Picking Up the Pen Again

Hi, I’m Michael and I’m a stroke survivor.

I’ve always been a fan of mind maps. When I’m planning something, I grab a piece of paper and map it out - connecting ideas, teasing out details, making sense of complexity.

I started doing it in high school while preparing for history exams, and it’s been my go-to thinking tool ever since.

When the Tool Disappears

Then came the stroke.

Suddenly, something as simple as holding a pen was gone. With it went my ability to mind map - a process that had been central to how I think.

Yes, there are software tools. But I’ve never found anything that matches the clarity of pen on paper. And in those early days, typing and using a mouse weren’t much easier either.

A core part of how I processed the world had disappeared overnight.

Back to Basics

Rehab for my hand started at the very beginning.

Tracing shapes. Following dotted lines. The same exercises used to teach kindergarten kids how to write the alphabet.

My family found me thick, ergonomic pens that were easier to grip than standard ballpoints. Even then, my writing was messy. I’d often find myself staring at a scrap of paper, trying to decipher what I’d written.

Progress was slow. And humbling.

The Mont Blanc

On my first birthday after the stroke, my friends bought me a Mont Blanc pen.

It’s fat. It’s heavy. Two things that make it easier to hold and control.

At the time, I couldn’t use it. The ergonomic pens were still far more practical. So the Mont Blanc sat on my desk, untouched.

Some people asked if it was a cruel joke.

But I knew better.

It wasn’t about what I could do at that moment. It was about what I might one day do again.

It was a goal.

The Attempt

Recently, I was working through a situation that needed clarity. Instinctively, I thought: I need to mind map this.

That was the first challenge.

The second was deciding to use the Mont Blanc.

I slowed everything down. Focused on control. Took my time with each line, each word.

And I did it.

A Small Win That Isn’t Small

I completed a detailed mind map - one that was legible, usable, and shareable.

It might not seem like much. But for me, it was a milestone.

More than three and a half years after my stroke, I had reclaimed something I thought I’d lost.

Not perfectly. Not like before.

But enough.

Still Writing the Story

That pen sat on my desk for years as a reminder of what I was working towards.

Now, it’s something else.

Proof.

Proof that progress happens - slowly, quietly, and often when you least expect it.

And that sometimes, picking up a pen again is about much more than writing.