Floppy Ears....

"Much of pharmacological treatment comes down to trial and error. Many times medication can help, but in the end a pill cannot heal a soul."

~Brian T. Maurer
https://briantmaurer.wordpress.com

My healing comes in the way of the woods and words.

I write to heal myself, because anytime my pen hits paper, or fingers hit keyboard = I AM HEALED.
Anytime my feet (or fat tires) hit a trail and I can breathe in that fresh, unencumbered oxygen directly from the trees = I AM HEALED.
Romping through the woods often feels like I’m wrapping myself in a warm blanket..

However, sometimes, even at maximum dose, these medicines do not heal.
And there I am, in pain, idly waiting, for the healing to begin….
And I’m reminded that maybe in order to maximize their effectiveness, I need to find a more appropriate dose, or the “therapeutic range” of my medications.

Truth is, I’ve been told that I'm "nuts", "crazy", " maniacal", "not human".... constantly pushing the limits, RARELY operating within the therapeutic range.

However, I prefer to be known as "passionate".

PASSION Defined:
1. the suffering and death of Jesus
2. a barely controllable emotion

SUFFERING + BARELY CONTROLLABLE, alas, I am a passionate one.

And I credit this passion to the ~50% Italian/Sicilian blood that courses through my veins.

Because even at less than maximum dose of Italian, I am provided enough fuel for the relentless pursuit of both pleasure....

and pain.

I’m constantly stoking the fire, a “controlled burn” if you will, of my many..MANY passions, in all of their various forms.

(And side note – “controlled burn” is also the name of a local kombuha, to which I’ve developed a mild addition. It contains all the spicy elements I love and crave.....Ginger/Cayenne/Turmeric..and that bubbly Majesty that makes it a kombucha.)

...and my "controlled burn” may come in the way of….

the perfect pedal..
the perfect run.......
the perfect trail....
the hard, fast breath...
the racing heart....
the pounding in my chest....
the dripping, salty sweat....
the perfect pour..
a "stinging" spice ....
the perfect "heat"...
the perfect adult libation ...
the perfect look...
the perfect touch..
the perfect laugh...
the perfect thought..
the perfectly crafted words....
the perfect pooch walk/hike..
the perfect breeze...
the perfect breath of fresh air....
the perfect floppy ears head shake...
the perfect diagnosis,..
the perfect "prescription"

And since nothing is ever perfect...it keeps me coming back for MORE....because when it feels GOOD...MORE is always better....right?

But is it more PAIN or PLEASURE that I seek?

Or maybe I am just a sadist, addicted to the pain, the heart pounding, head spinning, breathlessness of life….

As Kurt Vonnegut has so eloquently stated: 

"Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them -- in order that the reader may see what they are made of."

― Kurt Vonnegut

Aaaaa.... Thank you Kurt, because I do believe that PAIN…. is ....EXQUISITE.

And through the sadism, starvation, and “controlled burning”, I can strip myself down to the core, and see what’s inside.

I can expose the wound,
feel the pain, let it bleed.

And now that it is bleeding, 

it can begin to heal...all.over.again.

Because it is through the HEALING where I find the enlightenment,
the inspiration,
the motivation,
to seek pleasure, and LIVE....all.over.again.

But must I/you/WE continue to endure pain first, before we find the pleasure?

Must it be the PAIN that defines us?

WHO am I....if i'm not constantly in pain,,?
WHO am I ……if I'm NOT starving??

Maybe I am constantly pushing the limits of physical pain because I’m just not sure I can endure the emotional pain…?
Or ....

maybe I push the limits of physical pain to ENSURE I can endure the emotional pains.

But what happens when we are at MAX dose of all our medications, and still not healed?

How do we find the therapeutic range??

How do we "control the burn"..???

Who knows....

But as I held her head in my hands, my nose pressed to her fuzzy nose, and I matched my breath to her last few, she gave me one last head shake, so I can hear her floppy ears, and I’m reminded of the 14 incredible years she gave me. And while she technically was a “rescue”, SHE was the one who saved ME. And now, neither one of us need to remain in chronic pain, physical or emotional. 

 And with or without medication, I know I can endure it all,

because she is  watching over me...…

And whether you realize it or not, there is someone watching over YOU TOO....to ensure you find the therapeutic range for your medications....and can once again, find that pleasure of the healing.
ALL.OVER.AGAIN.

And ..if you do not believe this is true...
 well..

Stevie will keep an eye out for your too. :) 

Rest in peace Stevie Lynn – 5/11/17