Headwinds: The Dead Reckoning of the Heart


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Want to Read saving…. Want to Read Currently Reading Read. Refresh and try again. Open Preview See a Problem? Thanks for telling us about the problem. Return to Book Page. Preview — Headwinds by Thomas A. In , at 22 years old, Tom embarked on a solo, 58 day bicycle trip from Florence, Oregon to Chesapeake Bay, Virginia. The journey within proved much greater than his trip on the bike. This became a journey of the heart and soul. Events along the way triggered flashbacks from earlier times in Tom's life, starting with his birth, when the doctor encouraged his parents to In , at 22 years old, Tom embarked on a solo, 58 day bicycle trip from Florence, Oregon to Chesapeake Bay, Virginia.

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Events along the way triggered flashbacks from earlier times in Tom's life, starting with his birth, when the doctor encouraged his parents to pull the plug; to overcoming his disabilities; to surviving the heart wrenching family loss. The story encompasses his experiences as Tom pedals through unexpected snow storms, climbs over 11, foot passes, and crosses the Continental Divide.

Along the way, he has chance encounters and a near death experience as he struggles to complete his trip, hampered and emboldened by his life reflections. As a college professor and therapist, Tom shares how his life and journey has fueled his passion for teaching others, taking his students on inward journeys of the heart and soul as well, reflecting on relationships, love, and the meaning of life. This is a story of redemption and transformation.

Dead Space 2 - Dead Reckoning

In it are lessons of inspiration, sorrow, courage, tragedy, hope, and joy. It's a story that engages the reader in the dead reckoning of the heart. Paperback , pages. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. To ask other readers questions about Headwinds , please sign up. Lists with This Book. This book is not yet featured on Listopia.

They had no clue of what I was feeling or how big a day this was. I just had to see and touch and hold the boys close, on this day in particular. I just wanted to hug them and hold them close, watch them smile and giggle. Later that night at home, I walked around the house in silence.

I went to the bathroom and saw their bathtub toys ringing the tub. I saw the little bottle of baby shampoo next to my shampoo. I wondered if I would ever be able to give them a bath again. I opened the doors to their rooms.

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The room felt chilly and dark, like the space in my heart. How I wish they had left some kind of scent on their covers so I could breathe them in and bring them back to life in this barren place. So this is what grief is like—this pining, this knot in my stomach, this constant swallowing and anxiousness. The flip side of the coin of love is always grief. How I wish things were different! Reflecting on my trip across the United States in , the most difficult moments involved people, and the most unexpected joyful moments also involved people.

In Idaho, one of each happened to me. I was ugly, I was unlovable, and I had no self-worth. The world was not a kind and loving place. All she saw was a beautiful human being. She was that rare person who could look beyond my disabilities and see my essence, see the beauty that no one else bothered to look for.

She saw things in me that I never knew existed. It was one thing to get positive messages from my mom and dad and my siblings. But I would always write it off as family—they had to say nice things about me. Here was this kid of average intelligence, just getting by, with no self-esteem, with a deformed face and hand, and yet I was special in her eyes. She was the first person outside of my family who thought I was beautiful.

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It is a wonder that I write anything at all after surviving the trauma of freshman English. When I decided to attend St. Father Renee McGraw certainly fit my stereotypical image of a priest. However, the brother who taught freshman English was quite a departure from this stereotype. That his name escapes me may be repression, which they say is a defense mechanism that may on some level help preserve some of my mental health.

I remember him being a rather large, rotund man with his black monk outfit making him look even more imposing. He wore the typical white tassel rope belt and hood to complete his black ensemble. He had dark red hair, parted to the side, with a full beard and black, geeky looking glasses. I got the sense that he was teaching freshman English out of penance and not some great desire to help us become grammatically literate.

My professor of freshman English never got the memo on red ink equaling shame.

My essays dripped shame. I dreaded getting my papers back from him. There would be more red ink from him correcting my paper than the black ink I used to type it. At this point, I have my students open their eyes and write for a few minutes about what this meditation was like for them.

by Thomas A. Reis

Headwinds: The Dead Reckoning of the Heart [Thomas A. Reis] on uzotoqadoh.tk *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. In , at 22 years old, Tom embarked. Headwinds has 5 ratings and 1 review. Cheri said: I found myself quite frustrated with this book. I expected the story to be a lot more about the bike ri.

Then I ask how many of them know all the names of their great grandparents and only about a quarter of the hands go up. In the arrogance of our temporariness, we think we are so important. The world has been going on without us for millions of years and it will continue to go on without us, hopefully, after we are fertilizer and pushing up daisies for another million years. Do you want to be known as an alcoholic?

You are the author of your life. You write the story of who you are every moment, every day of your life. Every action you take, every choice you make, is an act of self-definition. What legacy are you going to leave?

Headwinds: The Dead Reckoning of the Heart Archives - Inver Hills News

What sound bite will you create with your life? I was so cold bicycling through Yellowstone that I would stop at every rest stop in the park, spaced about 10 miles apart, get under the hand dryer and punch it about 20 times to warm up my hands and body until feeling came back in to my extremities, only to rush back out and pedal in the cold for the next 10 miles to stop at the next rest area and sit under the hand warmer another 20 minutes before heading out yet again.

This was my ritual of survival as I inched my way through Yellowstone. This is what I remember most about Yellowstone, outside of its panoramic beauty. It was in Yellowstone that I was hit by a vehicle. I was riding on the shoulder of the road, near some elk and buffalo. At times in the park, because of high vehicle density, it was not unusual to see bumper-to-bumper traffic—not the place to be if you are in a hurry. Actually, it is a wonder there are not more accidents in the park, because there is so much to see.

It was not unusual to see tourists hanging out the windows, leaning out taking pictures of bear, buffalo, and sometimes mangy looking bicyclists. At one point, a large Winnebago I had passed earlier was inching its way up, meandering out of its lane, and onto the shoulder I was on.

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My joy was complete as I waded into the Atlantic ocean, two months after dipping my toes in the Pacific Ocean. But, despite pushy drivers, mountainous terrain, and unpredictable weather, Reis pressed on and finished. You write the story of who you are every moment, every day of your life. What legacy are you going to leave? The Letter I paced back and forth in that room for about an hour when the doctor came in to apprise me of the situation. Events along the way triggered flashbacks from earlier times in Tom's life, starting with his birth, when the doctor encouraged his parents to pull the plug; to overcoming his disabilities; to surviving the heart wrenching family loss.

Good thing it was only going one or two mph faster than me, because the next thing I felt stunned me—its side-view mirror slapped me on my upper back. Seldom do we fall in love with who they really are. Most end up agreeing with this statement. Seldom do we truly see the truth of anyone. Our perceptions are always biased and always partial.

So much of what we call love is our hope, our desire for what we think that person is.

Headwinds: The Dead Reckoning of the Heart

So much of what we think is love is need-based. Many of us enter our love relationships from a place of diminishment, a place of our own woundedness. No wonder love becomes so elusive, coming from this state of being. So many of us look for love outside of ourselves, when we have yet to find love within ourselves first. Four Stars out of Five A cross-country bike ride serves as an allegory for perseverance in this inspiring memoir. This autobiographical work from professor Thomas R.

Reis weaves a travelogue into a memoir, and the inspirational result is a work that shows how determination can help to overcome adversity. When Reis was born, a doctor intimated to his father that certain aspects of his conditions might drastically impede his quality of life and made a suggestion that no parent wants to hear. Reis grew up headstrong and found ways to work around his disabilities to pursue athleticism and other vehicles of normalcy.

Challenges here are related honestly, including childhood cruelties and adult insensitivities, though Reis does not write with self-pity. Readers mainly interested in the billed travel tale will have to be patient, though the bridging material proves to be fascinating reading. Through Reis, we get a glimpse of what life was like for those with visible disabilities just decades ago, prior to the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act, and those realities are both shameful and humbling.