The biggest leap I took was into the realm of reintegrating primitive reflexes. My intellectual curiosity was piqued by Kathy’s unique expertise in this field, especially after learning that her Brain Training class was only a sidekick. Her primary clinical focus was on childhood developmental delays and autism, but the same precise techniques also applied directly to adults who had experienced a catastrophic brain injury. Primitive reflexes are involuntary motor responses that prepare an infant to move against gravity and acquire new skills. As voluntary movements emerge during the first months of life, the brain gradually inhibits these reflexes. If they do not, the central nervous system cannot fully mature. As Kathy explained to me, “A person’s ingrained neonatal reflexes can regress after a traumatic event. By completing simple exercises at least once a day, a person can recover more easily from that trauma.”

Early in their relationship, Kathy quickly identified symptoms of this condition and recommended that Matt complete twenty-six days of a planned thirty-day program called “Maintaining Brains Every Day.” Kathy noted that Matt was initially unable to cross the midline of his body with his hand or foot, suggesting his corpus callosum was compromised—an indication that the two hemispheres of his brain weren’t communicating effectively.

In our family, there were mixed feelings and skepticism about the efficacy of these endeavors. Because Matt didn’t consciously perceive his physical misalignment or the routine’s positive impact, he not only opposed this undertaking but adamantly disliked it. Meanwhile, Mike gave them a definitive thumbs-down, citing a lack of clear evidence for a proven cause-and-effect correlation. From my perspective, these efforts were well worth the time investment. Once again, my commitment to ‘Celebrate the Small Stuff' directly clashed with Mike’s laser focus on the big picture and long-range forecast—a divide that underscored our differing clinical leanings on the topic.

It was incredibly frustrating to watch the visible erosion of Matt’s posture and gait within a few months of stopping. The situation left me feeling powerless to permanently fix the problem. Even now, I believe the outcomes would have been exponentially more sustainable if we had stayed the course, or at least for longer stretches. But there was a limit to how hard I could push my agenda. Sometimes I simply had to set one intervention aside to make room for another to emerge on the horizon—and patiently and slyly slip this one back in at a more favorable time.

By September 2021, the on-again, off-again pattern of gains and losses was obvious to a few relatives, who wondered why Matt wasn’t walking as well as when they had last seen him. They observed that when left to his own devices, he leaned to the right and favored his left leg. Without a concerted effort, his posture was heading downhill—because gravity is an unrelenting taskmaster that ruthlessly takes every inch you give it.

To me, the neurological connection was undeniable; whenever we tentatively revisited the primitive reflex exercises, the response was immediate. One afternoon, after I convinced him to try a few different ideas, the change was staggering. The targeted maneuvers dramatically reduced his postural shift, which instantly helped him transfer his weight, swing his right leg through cleanly, and engage a natural, rhythmical arm swing. In that fleeting moment, Matt could actually feel the structural difference in his stride. Sadly, by the following morning, that innate memory had faded, and he couldn’t recall the breakthrough at all.

So around and around we went: catching glimpses of what was possible, but never staying the course long enough to make it stick.

© 2026, Sarah Watkins