Customer Reviews

What I Thought I Knew

5 star:		(10)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

I've been a big fan of Barbara's for a long time. Her articles for Science of Mind Magazine are always thought provoking and very insightful. What delights me about this book is her ability to talk so honestly about love, loss, fear and courage. From the opening short story about her father's death when she was a teenager to the closing story of facing her fears after her husband's motorcycle wreck, she hooks you.

She is a writer's writer. Her words are eloquent, honest and filled to the brim with her own truths. There is are passages that can make you laugh out loud "fetus man" comes to mind. The candor with which she shares the terror and courage in leaving corporate america to start her own free lance career is nothing short of brilliant writing. ("Soon co-workers and executives told me the company had never had a better written employee news magazine. But after four years, my idea of hell was writing that magazine for all eternity. Corporate communications was confining, relentlessly one-sided, and instead of following my passion, I now was flogging it to death, one press release, one shareholder brochure at a time.")

She captures something unique, the feelings, the fears and the part of life that so many writers dare not share. They are too personal or private or guarded. We are fortunate that Stahura has agreed to share, for in her sharing we find strength, we all get a little stronger, a little braver, a little more real.

"Following the Call"
Page 28

"Whether it's serving God or writing essays, building boats or raising children, every call arises from passion. Suprisingly, I've found this passion to be nutured by many unexpected sources: a career that does not fit, feeling so stuck you can move only if you learn to fly, people who make you crazy, situations that hurt so much you want to die. The key is taking the time and finding the strength to listen to what these things are telling you."

From What I Thought I Knew

Close your eyes. Listen!
... It would have been great if you heard a train and better yet if you could have felt its power. (This will make sense after you read this book) If not, did you hear your heart? No, no, not its beat, but its ability to love, its capacity to heal, its desire for tranquility. Couldn't "hear" anything? Then I recommend you read: What I Thought I Knew. Stahura's essays are for those looking for that hard to find inner self where one learns that you may have to let go in order to possess; that Faith can't be taught in Church; and, that love really can overcome all.
-- Charlie Redner

The "Personal Essay" is a tricky genre. How does documentation of one person's life make the connective leap to those outside the circle of that writer's individual experience? Each essay penned by Barbara Stahura in "What I Thought I Knew" finds root in our basic fears, our emotional struggles, and subsequently touches a universal nerve. Unlike other "inspirational" publications, Stahura's revelations follow the writer's maxim of "SHOW, don't TELL". She IS a truth teller--even when that truth is uncomplimentary. Stahura unwraps each process of personal growth and shows, by example, a path to being that Best Person we each aspire to. What I learned from Barbara's book is that a critical step to being whole is to be bravely honest, first, with myself.

I would recommend "What I Thought I Knew" to anyone who is--or has--struggled with self-empowerment, with self-doubt, or with the complicated maneuverings of this life's journey. And isn't that all of us?

"Words that arise with coherence and beauty on the page, that's the holy mystery I serve. Like the nuns devoted to God, on my best days writing lets me serve something larger than myself: human self-expression that occasionally touches someone else's heart and brings us closer together." Barbara Stahura

In her first collection of personal essays titled "What I Thought I Knew," Barbara Stahura raises the bar for essay writers and readers alike. Her voice is clear, her writing clean and tight, and downright elegant. Stahura has years of interview experience with the likes of Deepok Chopra, Wayne Dyer, Don Miguel Ruiz, Louise Hay, Biologist Bruce Lipton, and Artist Valarie James (to name but a few.) She's no stranger to provocative questions and digging deep for answers.
It appears as though Stahura knows how to use those same tools to explore her own psyche and life experiences, deftly crafting pieces in which she generously shares her insights, her feelings, and her transformational shifts. An excellent essay lays track for the reader to appreciate from an observer point of view as well as inspiring the reader to self-exploration. These are excellent essays. The light Stahura shines on her interior processes shines through her work. Regardless of the genre, when a writer risks the deep honesty Stahura works from, an authentic connection is bound to happen.
Here's the bottom line: when I started reading this book I just didn't want to stop. Whether Stahura is describing her relationship with her father, her Catholic school experience, her quantum leap from certain death looming in the corporate world to finding her soul's calling, or the "tectonic" shift in her life when beloved husband Ken suffered severe brain trauma from a hit-and-run motorcycle accident, she never leaves her reader. We may not have covered the literal territories she describes, but we've all experienced the same very human emotions. She writes for herself and she writes for us; the result is our joining in a deeply satisfying seamless encounter.
In her own words; "Sometimes, I wake up early in my grown-up bed, windows open around it, and hear the distant whistles of trains. It is then I remember that little girl who did not yet know the most important thing her grown-up self would learn: Life is all about choices. Learning how to change your mind, when the moment is right, is often the best gift you can give yourself."
The second best gift you can give yourself is this book.

Has Oprah seen this book yet? Barbara Stahura is brilliant. I couldn't put down this insightful, moving, thought provoking book. How generous of her to share her very personal story in order to teach us what we need to know.

"I cried more from anger and humiliation than the slight sting. Spankings were for babies! How could my father do this to me when I was so grown up? (at 10).... He sent me to my room, and despite my shame, the only thing I could think to do was try to make things better with him again. He needed to know I was still a good girl and wouldn't do bad things again. What would I do if my dad didn't love me?"

Ok, I confess. I've not finished Barbara's book yet...but I know I will because it has already enhanced my life and my relationship with my 16-year old daughter. I read about Barbara's break with her dad after being spanked at 10-years old where she writes, "Something tore in my chest -- I could literally feel it -- as my heart twisted and broke, severing for me something elemental in our relationship."

Well, after reading that I walked into my daughter's bedroom to let her know that no matter what she might do in life, whatever 'bad behavior' or whatever she might do that I might not agree with, even dating or marrying some guy I didn't like... there was nothing she could do that would have me not love her.

So, this is a book to be savored for it reveals life -- real and authentic life. Read this book and if it touches your heart as much as it has mine, share it with all your friends. It deserves to be read by many during these troubling times for through it the author shares her 'truth,' in a way that can touch our hearts and return us to ourselves.

What I thought I knew - A Book Review - If you are dealing with brain injury and cognition issues you will find this book to be a gem of a tool to help you get through the difficult times and a way to confront them with dignity and peace. In my case It is interesting how life brought this book (and the author) came to me when I needed it even though I didn't know it. Barbara Stahura and her book came into my life through the back door so to speak as my wife found her book while searching for information on trauma and cognitive memory problems. I was (am) having cognitive memory issues at the ripe age of 57 and thus Barbara Stahuras book was a timely gift for me. Synchronicity was certainly at work.
The book is based around Barbara's husband Ken who had TBI (traumatic brain injury) from a motorcycle wreck. Ken has loved bicycles and motor scooters for much of his life and his passion for riding them almost killed him in a serious crash several years ago. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" comes to mind as apropos in this story, both for Barbara and Ken. The motorcycle crash did some damage to Ken's brain and much of the book is the ongoing and long recovery they have endured and continue to endure. Barbara's life had already had some traumatic issues in her life with the loss of her father when she was a young girl. No doubt that her early struggles gave her many of tools and fortitude to deal with the close call of death and slow recovery for Ken.
Stahuras story touched me in a number ways as I have had life long love of scooters and motorcycles as well which started when my Dad gave me a brand new 1965 125cc Lambretta scooter at the age of 13. I rode through college and off-road motorcycles in the intervening years. I have not had a street bike since but recently bought a new Vespa 250 scooter and I am having a ball of fun riding it around town and adjacent rural roads. Given my current scootering escapades Kens story hit a nerve with me and illuminates what can happen when you least expect it.
Like Ken, I was hit with unexpected brain and cognition problems ( not traumatic but seriously problematic) and I am having my own version of a "slow crash" precipitated by a long term bout of untreated sleep apnea which has led to serious cognitive and memory problems for me. It sneaked up on us (me and my wonderful wife Margie) and suddenly she and my kids started noticing that I was forgetting things often and I had not a clue that it was happening. It has been a slow crash of the silent kind. Rather than a sudden shock of the new situation my trauma came in as a slow decline that simmered and slowly did its dirty work in my brain over several years. I never in a million years expected this outcome as I was getting ready to retire from my working career.
Out of all this my wife Margie and Barbara have become pen-pals. It is not fair for me to compare my issues to Ken's as he has had both physical and mental demons to slay. Mine have been in the realm of a mind going downhill and a slow burn of declining cognition. After a year of neuropsychology tests along with MRI's, and EEG's we have finally learned that I don't have Alzheimer's or dementia which is a relief for me and my family. However, we don't exactly know what has, and is taking place in my short and long term memory. I am still impaired compared to a year ago. The use of a V/PAP machine is stopping the nighttime apnea events (and the hypoxia damage that goes along with it) but it is clear that I have suffered some cognitive and frontal lobe damage. All I can say is that it could have been worse so I am grateful that I have what I still have in my head. At this point the Doctors still don't know exactly what is taking place in my brain but the best guess is long term hypoxia damage. Tests are ongoing and I am fortunate to have a first rate internist who is orchestrating my testing and recovery.
Ken & I will probably be dealing with our issues for much of the rest of our lives but the good news is that both of us are still alive and having great lives. As a conclusion we have an interesting twist to our mutual stories as Ken & Barbara came to visit us a few weeks ago and we were able talk about our issues face to face. It is indeed interesting that life brings what we need when we really need them. As the old saying says, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger". Normally I would sign my name with a book review but given the medical issues and the need for privacy at this point I am keeping myself anonymous. For this period in my life is I keep thinking of this quote from the Desiderata, "Nurture strength of spirit to shield in sudden misfortune but do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness". Amen and forward into the future with a renewed appreciation of the simple things in life and how important they really are.
Jon Davis 2010

Everyone thinks they know it all, when they clearly don't. "What I Thought I Knew" is a collection of reflective essays from Barbara Stahura. She goes through life with an open mind, and learns new things daily, leading her to advance forward and look back on her life and give herself insight on what she has learned over the last few years. "What I Thought I Knew" is poignant, entertaining, and many readers will find a bit of themselves as they go through Stahura's writings.

Not only is this a delightful read (and I absolutely agree with the other comment - "Has Oprah seen this yet?"), but so relevant to so many issues. As I read the book, I couldn't help but think of all the people I know that could benefit from this book. Delightful, easy, thought provoking read!

This is a delightful book of personal essays. We get to know Barbara Stahura and her feelings about many of the things that we all think about but don't take the time to explore.

Stahura admits that she was a lonely girl who grew into a woman who is much more confident and outgoing because she felt safe within the pages of her books. She tells us that her library card has languished because owning books meant that she would not have to release them, like hostages with whom she'd fallen in love. That's the love that opened her world and nourished her spirit.

One of the topics that she discusses is her father, who died when she was 14 years old. She had loved him so much, this ordinary man who had been willing to make great sacrifices to be of service to God and to the suffering human beings he understood were God's children. Years later she remembers thinking "...on the day I turned 42 years and four days old, I was older than my father ever was." They didn't grow older together, and he left no messages for her. With each big change in her life, she wondered how her father would have felt. Would he have understood when she gave up religion and searched for spirituality through paths that were less dogmatic?

Then there was Stahura's Catholic upbringing. A good Catholic girl, she felt she had a calling to be a nun. But years later, long after quitting religion altogether, she found it difficult to tease out the origin of this one desire from the strands of her childhood. She loved the nuns because they commanded respect and people deferred to them. Families with a daughter-nun were held in high regard, as was the daughter herself for committing to a life of service in Jesus' name. Maybe she thought being a nun would free her--or perhaps it would please her parents.

Perhaps the most defining moment of her life happened when her husband Ken had a horrific motorcycle accident that left what she calls a "Brain Wreck" for both of them. She didn't know if her husband's injured brain would ever allow him to read or work or be the same intelligent, self-aware man with whom she'd fallen in love and married. She didn't know how long she could continue to care for him, more like a mother or a nurse than as a wife. She feared more than anything that the brain injury, which had kidnapped him, might also have replaced him with a stranger she could not love. None of these fears came to pass, and eventually, she had to allow him to once again navigate his own way in the hostile world, and she returned to what she had done before the "brain wreck." Her days of single-minded focus, in some ways the most meaningful time of her life as well as the most difficult, would be over.

Stahura reminds us that life is all about choices and learning how to change your mind when the moment is right. This is often the best gift you can give yourself. When we're mired in the muck, it's because we've exhausted all our usual options. This feeling of stuckness comes from applying traditional thinking and behavior to new situations and having them not work, repeatedly. The only way to free ourselves is to try something new. She gives us many reasons to believe that we can become the person we want to be and "give up what we think we know."

by Doris Anne Roop-Benner
for Story Circle Book Reviews
reviewing books by, for, and about women