Almost two years ago I had a stroke at 45 years of age. A sixth grade English teacher for over twenty years, I had often darkly joked with my colleagues, “These kids are going to send me to an early grave.” I never believed it, and it was not my work with students that sent my blood pressure soaring, causing a cerebral hemorrhage and stroke. The reason my head exploded is so complicated, I’ve decided to veer in a completely different direction. Instead of searching for the cause of my demise, I’m going to explore the reason I needed to have a stroke. Because I do believe my life needed to explode to create the room and inspiration for my second half . And writing down, documenting all the fleeting thoughts I’m having, might let me hold on to that divine feeling of “knowing something important.”