May 27 2026

My Brain’s Under Renovation—

Please Excuse the Synaptic Dust

I’m currently in the process of rewiring my TBI‑affected brain — which, frankly, feels a bit like trying to update a 1998 operating system using a hand‑crank generator. But here I am, diligently cultivating new synapses and building the cognitive reserve I’ll need to outrun the long family line of Alzheimer’s and dementia that’s basically waiting for me like a surprise party I never asked for.

For those of us blessed with a high‑octane, Type‑A monkey mind, the challenge isn’t just memory retention. It’s the relentless internal chatter — the mental equivalent of a toddler with a tambourine — that keeps the brain stuck in a low‑grade stress loop. My goal is to slow that down, literally and figuratively, by using the physical act of cursive writing to drag my brain out of its frantic autopilot and into something resembling deliberate, structural growth.

Why Cursive? Because My Brain Apparently Needs Handwriting Therapy

Cursive isn’t just “fancy handwriting.” It’s a neurological workout disguised as nostalgia — and the science backs it up.

A 2024 high‑density EEG study found that handwriting (but not typing) activates widespread brain connectivity, especially in theta and alpha frequency bands, which are essential for memory and learning.
🔗 Van der Weel & Van der Meer (2024):
https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fpsyg.2024.1333250/full (frontiersin.org in Bing)

  • Bilateral Brain Activation:
    Cursive requires continuous movement, forcing the left and right hemispheres to communicate across the corpus callosum — something my brain, like many brains, doesn’t always do unless bribed.
  • The Power of the Flow:
    Cursive mimics how thoughts should move: fluidly, not like a bullet‑pointed grocery list written by someone who forgot why they walked into the kitchen.

And this isn’t just about aesthetics — handwriting is increasingly recognized as a sensitive marker of cognitive health, especially in aging and neurodegenerative conditions.
🔗 Frontiers in Aging Neuroscience (2026):
https://www.frontiersin.org/journals/aging-neuroscience (frontiersin.org in Bing)

Why 20 Minutes? Because That’s When My Brain Finally Stops Arguing

Neurologically, 20 minutes is the sweet spot.

  • The 5–7 Minute Shift:
    It takes that long for my monkey mind to stop screaming about laundry, emails, and the existential dread of “what was I supposed to be doing again.”
  • The Plasticity Window:
    Once I hit flow, the next 13–15 minutes are prime time for building new neural patterns — without tipping into the fatigue spiral that TBI brains know all too well.
  • Consistency Over Heroics:
    Twenty minutes is doable even on days when my brain feels like a browser with 47 tabs open and one of them is playing music but I can’t find which one.

This aligns with research on cognitive rhythms and time‑blocking:
🔗 Ahead App Research — The Science of Time‑Blocking:
https://www.ahead-app.com/blog/the-science-of-time-blocking (ahead-app.com in Bing)

The Warm‑Up: Two Minutes of Drawing Infinity Like I’m Summoning a Portal

Before journaling, I warm up with two minutes of continuous figure‑eights.

  • The Drill:
    Fill a page with looping infinity symbols without lifting the pen.
  • The Goal:
    This “synaptic reset” quiets the monkey mind and preps the motor cortex for the sustained, fluid motion of cursive — like stretching before a workout, but for your neurons.

The “Anthropologist from Mars” Inventory: Because Humor Is Cheaper Than Therapy

Writing factually shifts processing from the amygdala (panic HQ) to the prefrontal cortex (the adult in the room). But pure clinical detachment can feel robotic, so I add humor.

The Prompt:
Write 10 lines describing your current activity as if you’re an alien researcher observing a confused human.

Example: “The subject is staring at a glowing rectangle while consuming a heated liquid stimulant. The subject is aware of a laundry pile nearby but is ignoring it with impressive determination.”

This technique is supported by research showing that externalizing thoughts reduces default mode network activity, which is responsible for rumination.
🔗 Neurosity — Journaling and the Brain:
https://neurosity.co/blogs/news/journaling-and-the-brain-how-writing-helps (neurosity.co in Bing)

Why This Works

  • Third‑Person Distance:
    Calling yourself “The Subject” creates psychological space from stress.
  • Humor = Cognitive Cross‑Training:
    To find the funny angle, your brain must shift perspectives quickly — a high‑level cognitive skill that builds resilience.

The Cursive Practice: Satire Meets Motor Cortex

Now combine the humor with exaggerated cursive.

  • The Drill:
    Write your alien observations in long, sweeping, dramatic cursive — the kind of handwriting that would make your third‑grade teacher weep with joy.
  • The Technique:
    When you get clever, you’ll want to speed up. Don’t. Slow down and make the loops even more ridiculous.
  • The Goal:
    You’re training precision and creativity simultaneously — the neurological equivalent of juggling while doing squats.

And yes, handwriting is increasingly being studied as a preventative tool for Alzheimer’s, thanks to its multi‑sensory, motor‑cognitive demands.
🔗 Atena Editora — Cognitive Benefits of Handwriting:
https://www.atenaeditora.com.br/post/artigo-beneficios-cognitivos-da-escrita-manual (atenaeditora.com.br in Bing)

So… Is This Sustainable?

Honestly, yes. It’s structured enough to work on your busiest days, playful enough to keep you engaged, and scientifically grounded enough to satisfy your inner researcher. Plus, it gives your monkey mind something to do besides narrate your to‑do list in a panicked whisper.

May 15 2026

Remodeling the “Monkey Mind”

“While I’m deep in the weeds sorting through drafts and photos to catch up on my Japan travel posts, I figured it was time for a quick pit stop to share what my day-to-day life actually looks like right now. Spoiler alert: When I’m not mentally traversing the streets of Tokyo, my actual reality looks significantly less like a high-flying global itinerary and a lot more like a slow-motion science experiment. For those wondering how a recovering tech leader with a restless ‘monkey mind’ stays anchored between big trips, the answer turns out to be fewer bullet trains and significantly more agonizing over a single embroidery stitch. Here is a quick update on the current focus areas ruling my schedule—and keeping me from eating myself alive…”

When people find out I’m mostly retired, the question I get most often—usually delivered with a look of mild concern for my sanity—is: “But how do you keep yourself busy?”

It’s a fair question. For decades, my identity was entirely wrapped up in being a high-flying, hyper-efficient, classic Type A tech leader. My brain was a finely tuned racing engine. But then, twelve years ago, a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) forced an uninvited, aggressive downshift. I eventually had to leave a high-octane career I absolutely loved and face the humbling, frustrating, and often absurd task of learning a “new normal.”

Today, my professional output consists of a few high-level consulting projects and stepping onto a stage for a keynote speech a couple of times a year. It’s just enough to satisfy the old ego. But the rest of my time? I’ve traded intense strategic planning sessions for balance poses and spreadsheets for satin stitches.

To keep my recovering brain healthy and resilient, I’ve dedicated myself to learning entirely new, wildly contrasting skills. If you had told the younger version of me that my daily schedule would revolve around Tai Chi and embroidery, I would have laughed you out of the room. Yet, here we are.

If you are a fellow Type A trapped with a restless “monkey mind,” here is how I spend an hour and a half every day keeping my brain from eating itself alive.

The Morning Routine: Rewiring the Hardware. My daily brain-remodeling project happens in highly deliberate, bite-sized increments. It turns out the brain doesn’t need a grueling eight-hour shift to change; it just needs consistency.

Phase 1: The Morning Beach Walk & Tai Chi (20–30 Minutes). Every morning, after a brisk 2-5 mile walk on the beach to get the blood flowing, I step in to the comfort of my living room for 20 to 30 minutes of Tai Chi.

Now, if you’ve never seen a former corporate Type A attempt Tai Chi, picture a Ferrari trying to drive at exactly 2 miles per hour. Every fiber of my being wants to power through the movements, but the magic of Tai Chi is in the agonizing, beautiful slowness.

  • The Brain Science: By forcing my body to calculate fluid, slow-motion movements in three-dimensional space, I’m giving my cerebellum (coordination) and parietal cortex (spatial awareness) a massive workout. Tai Chi triggers the release of acetylcholine—a neurotransmitter that essentially acts like a “save button” for new neural connections. It’s structural engineering for my balance and motor maps, heavily disguised as a slow-motion martial art.

Phase 2: Micro-Movements and Embroidery (20–30 Minutes). Later in the morning, I pivot entirely. I sit down for exactly 20 to 30 minutes of embroidery. Yes, embroidery. Stop laughing.

Going from high-level tech strategy to meticulously threading a needle is the ultimate exercise in humility. My primary motor cortex—specifically the massive chunk of real estate dedicated to my hands and fingers—is forced into a state of hyper-synchronized focus.

  • The Brain Science: Every single millimeter of progress requires intense visual tracking and micro-motor precision. This creates dense, localized clusters of synapses in my motor and visual cortices. Even better? The aerobic boost from my earlier walk and Tai Chi primes my brain with BDNF (Brain-Derived Neurotrophic Factor), a literal fertilizer for neurons. By the time I pick up the needle, my brain is chemically optimized to build and insulate these new pathways.

The Intermission: Taming the Monkey Mind. Sandwiched into this routine, I add two 15-minute sessions of mindfulness and gratitude meditation daily.

For a Type A personality, meditation can feel like a form of psychological torture. Sit still? Do nothing? Focus on my breath when there are problems to solve? It feels counterintuitive. But for a brain recovering from a TBI—and a mind naturally prone to swinging from branch to branch like a caffeinated chimpanzee—this practice is non-negotiable.

This double-dose of daily mindfulness allows me to:

  • Hit the neuro-brakes: It down-regulates my sympathetic nervous system (the fight-or-flight response that Type A’s live in) and dials down the amygdala, reducing the background anxiety of “not doing enough.”
  • Anchor to the present: Instead of mourning the pre-TBI past or obsessing over an unpredictable future, it forces my prefrontal cortex to anchor into the absolute current moment.
  • Foster structural resilience: Studies show regular meditation actually thickens the gray matter in areas involved in emotional regulation and memory, while thinning the areas associated with stress.

The Hardest Part of the “New Normal.” If I’m being completely honest, it is still really hard to admit—even to myself—that I’m no longer leading huge, Worldwide Initiatives. My ego still wants to be the one orchestrating global strategies, not sitting on a couch trying to figure out how a single French knot works. Stepping back to enjoy the absolute simplicity of embroidery and Tai Chi, sprinkled with a bit of meditation, required swallowing a massive dose of pride.

But there is a silver lining to this forced humility. While my inner overachiever might still throw the occasional tantrum, those around me have noticed a massive shift. They genuinely appreciate a new calmer, kinder, and much more patient Rane. So, while I’m primarily doing this to painstakingly claw back some executive function, my friends and family are just glad I’m finally learning how to breathe.

Twelve years post-TBI, I am not the same person I was in leadership team meetings, and that is finally okay. I’ve learned that keeping a brain healthy isn’t about running it ragged; it’s about challenging it with novelty, precision, and deliberate rest.

If you are a fellow Type A struggling to slow down, or if you’re navigating your own version of a “new normal,” I highly recommend building your own eclectic routine. Pick one thing that challenges your large-scale balance, one thing that demands microscopic focus, and throw in some stillness to keep the gears greased.

Your monkey mind might fight you at first, but your synapses will thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some fabric to tension, and it is going to take all the mental fortitude I possess.

Apr 7 2026

Japan- Japow or Bust

We finally landed in Japan, let’s say the super cheap Alaska-Hawaiian flight be prepared no power, no wi-fi and squeezed in like sardines but that’s what you get being a cheapo with $500 round trip flight! Our luggage disappeared faster than a sumo wrestler at mealtime to our hotel in the Japanese Alps-look for the Black Cat when you land! You want to be like a pro don’t bring all your luggage on the trains and annoy everyone- send them to your hotel and just have a day or 2 worth of clothing in your backpack. Makes travel easy and most Japanese Hotels have unlimited amenities galore (hairbrush, toothbrush, lotions, facials, bath salts, PJs, etc.)

Everyone’s been absurdly friendly and helpful, it’s like they’re training for some kind of niceness Olympics! The shuttle ride from the airport to the nearby hotel was so smooth, I almost needed a wake-up call to alert me we arrived, and by smooth, I mean I drooled a bit on the window. Later we found out it would have been an easy 2 mile walk when we headed to ramen for dinner that was back at Terminal 3-HA! Let me tell you, the cheap $7 a bowl treat at the airport you can’t go wrong! Then, a speedy jaunt to a super clean ramen joint for dinner, my taste buds are doing the cha cha slide! Their zero beer (Asahi) has a fantastic flavor, low calories and a funny quote about making work the next day easy, too bad that’s not my friend today!

Now, off to dreamland for some mountain-snow filled fantasies in the Japanese Alps – woohoo! Check out the size of these twin beds, more like full beds, even better! Highly recommend Narita Tobu hotel by the Airport. One day in Tokyo and then we’re shredding the slopes — here we come!

  • Great directions on paths, you won’t get lost
  • Vending machines and trash/recycling everywhere-so clean and you won’t go hungry or thirsty
  • Wow, our room is huge for being so cheap!
  • First, Ramen short walk from hotel
  • Breakfast so many options
  • This is a huge all you can eat buffet
  • So many options from American to Asian breakfast, I am in heaven

Day 2 kicked off with a delicious breakfast included in the ridiculously cheap hotel price (look at the spread!) then a casual little stroll to the airport to catch the express train into Tokyo. Honestly, Japan’s walking paths deserve their own fan club. Distances, arrows, instructions on how to be a functioning human in public—my Type A soul has never felt so seen.

On the train, I ambitiously planned out 12 activities. Naturally, we accomplished about… 1/4. Time in Tokyo moves at warp speed, apparently.

First mission: drop a bag at the hotel. Easy, right? Except we took the wrong exit and gifted ourselves a scenic bonus lap around the station. Silver lining: we discovered the hotel lets you pick your own pillows and gives you more tiny lotions and face washes than a Sephora sample bag. I was thriving. Another recommendation, affordable and easy walk from the station-Tokyo Super Premier Hotel!

Next up: Ramen Street back at the Tokyo train station. There are so many- how do you choose? Give up, do iny mini miny mo and step in a long line and just wait. Oh, we choose right! A glorious bowl of broth, pork, and bamboo shoots—order from a menu machine like civilized chaos. You push buttons, you get a ticket, you stand in line, one person out one person in, you slurp noodles. It’s the circle of life. I would try to give you the name of the place to go, but there is no way I can write the congee here.

Then we braved, deep in the basement, lies Tokyo Character Street, where Pokémon, Hello Kitty, and Godzilla live in a state of high-priced harmony. It’s the only place in the world where you can see a high-powered businessman in a $3,000 suit unironically buying a plushie of a sentient piece of fried shrimp. We also battled thousands of people who were enthusiastically buying… characters. Plushies, figurines, keychains, outfits that made Comic-Con look understated. I called it Cuteness Ghetto, Greg called it Dante’s Hell again!

A few fun facts about Tokyo Station:

  1. The Dutch Dopple-Gänger: The Marunouchi facade looks so much like Amsterdam Centraal that people have been accusing architect Kingo Tatsuno of “copy-pasting” since 1914. Tatsuno’s defense? He added white granite stripes to the red brick, which is basically the architectural equivalent of adding a mustache to a painting and calling it “original art.”
  2. The “Mole People” Mall: If the surface of Tokyo looks too crowded, you can just join the underground civilization. The station is the gateway to a subterranean labyrinth where you can buy a tailored suit, get a ramen bowl, and walk three miles to the next neighborhood without ever touching a drop of rain. It’s perfect for people who want to visit Tokyo but have a personal vendetta against the sun.
  3. “X” Marks the Spot (Literally): Most train stations put up plaques for famous snacks; Tokyo Station puts them up for assassinations. There are unassuming tiles on the floor marking where two different Prime Ministers met their end. It’s a grim “Easter Egg” hunt for history buffs that makes your morning commute feel significantly more like a Tom Clancy novel.

We then joined several hundred of our closest strangers for a guided tour of the Imperial Palace. Reminder: Japan is like the UK—walk on the left. My American instincts were fighting for their lives. The gardens were beautiful, though you can’t go inside any buildings, which feels like being invited to a party but only allowed to admire the house from the driveway. A few fun facts on the Imperial Palace:

  1. It’s the “Holy Land” of jogging: The 5-kilometer (3.1-mile) path surrounding the palace moats is the most popular running route in Japan. It is often called the “Holy Land of Runners.” Because there are no traffic lights and the scenery is beautiful, you’ll find thousands of joggers there daily. There is even an unwritten rule that all runners must jog in a counter-clockwise direction.
  2. The Empress raises silkworms: In a tradition that dates back to 1871, the Empress of Japan personally tends to silkworms at the Palace Sericulture Centre. Each year, she feeds them mulberry leaves and participates in the harvesting of the silk. This silk is then used for the restoration of historical Japanese textiles and as gifts for state guests.
  3. It sits on the world’s largest fortress: The palace is built on the remains of Edo Castle, which was once the largest fortress in the world. While most of the castle buildings are gone, the massive stone walls and moats remain. Some of the stones used in the walls are so large that they required dozens of men to move, and you can still see the “signatures” (marks) of the samurai clans who donated the stones carved into them.
  • Ramen Alley in Tokyo Station
  • Yummy, quick and efficent
  • Crazy characters and lots of people
  • Get your favorite plushy character
  • Another great breakfast
  • I could live on these soups and treats
  • Our new customer service pet dog
  • Free PJs say what!
  • Tour of the Imperial Palace Grounds outside of Tokyo Station, free tour at 1:30pm
  • We are part of just a little tour group
  • From Kokyo Gaien, the large plaza in front of the Imperial Palace, visitors can view the Nijubashi, two bridges that form an entrance to the inner palace grounds. The stone bridge in front is called Meganebashi (Eyeglass Bridge) for its looks. The bridge in the back was formerly a wooden bridge with two levels, from which the name Nijubashi (Double Bridge) is derived
  • So many cool views of the old castle
  • ScreenshotEdo Castle used to be the seat of the Tokugawa shogun who ruled Japan from 1603 until 1867.
  • ScreeEast Gardens of the Imperial Palacenshot
  • East Gardens of the Imperial Palace
  • Of course a selfie, yes it is worth doing the free tour.
  • So many cool views of the old castle
  • So many cool views of the old castle

After that, it was time for the holy grail: Daimaru Department Store Bento Heaven. Its basement (the Depachika) is a high-end food cathedral. It has a “Bento Street” where the food is often prepared fresh on-site. It’s where you go if you want a $30 wagyu steak bento that was sliced ten minutes ago. I browsed 50 different types of gourmet sushi and then realized I’ve spent 45 minutes looking at pickled radishes. We sampled everything—fried chicken, sushi, steamed chicken cilantro salad, wagyu beef noodles. At this point we were 8 miles in and running purely on carbs and curiosity.

Back at the hotel, we were greeted by the owners Pet Dog! We changed into our complimentary PJs and slippers (peak luxury), but not before hitting the free happy hour and ice cream. Priorities.

Then came the onsen experience. Picture tiny wooden stools, organic soaps, and a little bucket to rinse yourself before entering a steaming natural pool that makes a hot tub feel lukewarm. I had the whole place to myself for 20 glorious minutes. Afterwards, I tested every lotion and face wash in the women’s lounge like a kid in a very polite, very quiet candy store. Greg also had his onsen to himself but he wasn’t an explorer he raced back to the room to shower in peace and not have to figure out how to use the stiil and very short shower head.

Of course we found right outside our hotel a direct entrance into the Tokyo Station…For dinner, we attempted to find a Tonkatsu place… and failed. We wandered, debated, got lost, and ultimately ended up eating at the first soba restaurant we saw when we first entered the station by our hotel. Naturally. Buckwheat noodles and tempura never tasted so victorious.

Back to the hotel for “night night time,” as the locals definitely do not say, and another morning breakfast for the Gods!

Nagano and the start of our Japanese Alps adventure. Perfect timing too—sunny skies for us, and then a Siberian storm front rolling in with a whole lot of snow. Stay tuned…