Newsletter #21 - The Wonderful Externalities of Travel

The effect of traveling on neuroplasticity, growth, and recovery

I’ve developed an unusual skill — the ability to predict exactly how much growth and rehab progress I’ll have in any given month or period of my life.

Back in January, I had no idea how the first half of 2025 would play out, how busy work would be, or what my days and weekends would look like. But I was absolutely certain of one thing: I’d make leaps and bounds in my recovery.

Let me explain. When the year began, I was closing in on the four year anniversary of my stroke. Four years of moments I could’ve never seen coming when I started college in 2019 — visits to hospitals and ER, sweaty gym workouts, sessions in PT clinics, and, most surprising of all: traveling.

It’s unintuitive, but I’ve done more traveling since the stroke than I ever did before. This includes family trips around California but also internationally, domestic flights to other states, and — now that I live in New England — bus and train rides to cities in Connecticut and New York to explore all that the east coast has to offer.

Each trip has broken me out of my comfort zone, opened my eyes to new places and cultures, challenged me in unexpected ways, and led me to a wonderful conclusion: Traveling is the best thing possible for my recovery.

There is an unmistakeable correlation between the amount of traveling I do and the amount of progress I have in walking, independence, and adulting prowess — and being a better adult means being a better stroke survivor. This is the secret behind my predictive abilities.

In 2022 and 2023, there was Paris and Tokyo. Paris taught me to walk long distances without tiring. It taught me to interact with strangers and use my voice in ways I hadn’t had to since the stroke, navigate a subway system, and maintain my balance on staircases, of which there were many. Tokyo reinforced all of those same skills. I predicted I’d see gains in my physical and occupational therapy, and I did.

And in the first half of 2025?

I visited New York City. Philadelphia. Honolulu. Los Angeles. New Haven.

I had a feeling all of these trips would be good for me, and the results were exactly what I guessed they’d be — lovely, quantifiable improvements in my physical and mental recovery.

Navigating New York sharpened my logic and organizational thinking. facilities that are affected when a brain injury damages your frontal lobe and executive function. Philadelphia taught me how to be vigilant in loud, crowded areas and how to stand for hours at a time, strengthening my back and leg muscles. Honolulu forced me to walk and swim and snorkel — intense challenges that accelerated my recovery in myriad ways. My time in Los Angeles improved my ability to get in and out of cars and lessened the amount of tension in my hip muscles. New Haven brought with it even more walking, a nature-filled vibe, and a mindfulness that was constantly reminding me to stretch and do my exercises.

It’s also interesting to observe how resourceful I can get when I have exercises to do but none of the usual equipment I do those exercises with: how can I strengthen my legs and core when I’m far away from the gym I usually go to? How can I stretch my tight muscles when I don’t have the wall I usually lean against or the couch I like to sit on? No matter where I am in the world, my recovery must continue. Figuring out how to make that happen is fun.

What’s more, all of the destinations above also showed me who I am deep down, revealed a side of me not present in the same old environments I’d gotten too comfortable in, places where I saw myself as a “patient” or a “victim” or an awkward regular with a disability. The novelty and fresh perspective they provided healed me, illuminating a resilience and confidence and “street smarts” that that I didn’t know I had and that never have to come out in the same old cities I’m always in. These are things that my mental health therapists and my years of therapy couldn’t necessarily have unlocked in me. There’s something beautiful about getting to know yourself when all the usual things you use to define who you are aren’t with you anymore: the company you work at, the room you live in, the physical therapist whose patient you are, and the neighborhood you always walk around. Everyone on the internet likes saying that the experiences you get while traveling help you grow as a person. I never quite understood that until I started doing it myself.

So, this is why, for four years, I’ve moved heaven and earth to allow myself to travel. To explore, to push my boundaries, to place myself in new environments I know will keep me on my toes, force myself to walk and move my body in new and different ways, expand my perspective, heal me mentally, and show me exactly what I need to do to take my recovery to the next level, rehab-wise. (Example: I’d been working on hip extension and improved balance and endurance in physical therapy but had never needed to apply them in Boston, where my commute is so routine and monotonous and simple it’s comical. But Hawaii changed that immediately — if I didn’t use those skills while snorkeling, I’d have drowned.)

The unfortunate thing is that traveling costs money, people’s bodies have finite energy, and life gets busy. The second half of this year will not involve as many trips.

But I obviously want to recover well and continue getting better. So once I’m well-rested, well-financed, and more available?

The traveling will continue.