GREEN FIGS

I've realized two very crucial truths today:

Truth # 1: Green figs are in fact...DELICIOUS. One may confuse them for an "unripe" brown turkey fig, to which we are so accustomed to seeing in the South. However, Green Figs are actually a variety all their own. And even at their "fullest and ripest", they remain bright GREEN.  But don't be fooled, they are quite ripe..and MAGICALLY DELICIOUS...

Truth #2: I have lived with MANY MANY different people over the years: My parents and big bro, countless roommates in college and grad school, boys, girls, dogs, cats, birds, fish, snakes, ferrets, chameleons (college daze, don't ask!!) significant others, etc. And upon reflection I finally realized the person I had the HARDEST time living with was ...

MYSELF...

UGH...

ME.

Granted. I never leave the seat up, I don't leave disgustoid globs of toothpaste in the bathroom sink or dirty dishes in the kitchen sink and I ALWAYS courtesy flush (HOLLA!!).  Although admittedly....I do tend to leave windows and doors open, and often forget to turn off the faucet :o...

And I am beginning to wonder if the various roomie battles I have endured over the years as I voiced my frustrations and criticisms towards the other for not living according to my "standards", was more so a battle...with myself??

Maybe I was tired of trying to live to my own "standard"?? And maybe I was also ENVIOUS of  the aforementioned roomie, because at least they had the option to LEAVE, even if only for a brief moment.
They could have a REPRIEVE from me.

But I was STUCK...

stuck with myself..

every day..
and night.

There I was...
in the mirror...
again...
EVERY.SINGLE.DAY..

STILL.LIVING.HERE...

UGH....

It sure can be EXHAUSTING....

And I got into medicine because I wanted to help people achieve the best "version" of themselves, whatever that meant for them.  But I somehow lost this along the way, as I saw how people actually LIVED...and how incredibly different their "best version" was compared to what I had envisioned for them.

And as I was seeing patients in their homes, and tripping over empty boxes of Bojangles, and navigated around bowls of ice cream, stale bed residing pop tarts and cigarette smoke to assess patient vitals signs, and proceeded to voice my frustrations/recommendations for how they might improve their existence, I am now realizing maybe this IS the best version for them.  And no amount of medication, recommendation, encouragement or "advisement" on my part was going to change that.

And maybe I was envious of them TOO...
For being so satisfied with themselves...

EXACTLY AS THEY ARE...

Amongst the mes, and disorder.....and COPD...and diabetes, and hypertension, and dirty dishes.....and unfolded laundry... and empty containers, and unorganized mail...and...and...and....

I've been reaching and OVER reaching for a "standard" for

SO.DAMN.LONG...

and now...
....I'm finally UTTERLY
and TRULY

EXHAUSTED.....

I can feel it in my BONES...

and in my SOUL...

Medicine is not what I thought it would be, and I've completely lost my purpose  ...
In fact, I'm not sure I even had one to begin with..

And I've decided to turn it ALL in....

go back to the start...so I may begin again.

And while I'll continue to work towards the best version of myself..

NOW, I will ALSO (TRY REALLY HARD!!!) to be satisfied with myself ...EXACTLY as I am
IN THIS MOMENT..

with stains on my shirt,
dirty dishes in the sink,
unfolded laundry....

Kinda like the Green figs, life can be deceptively delicious even if one might suspect we are"unripe" and not ready for picking.....

I hope this will help inspire you too... to except yourself 

EXACTLY AS YOU ARE...

(BUT ALWAYS COURTESY FLUSH PEOPLE!!! ;) )

GREEN FIGS Courtesy of my beloved neighbors, whose tree I continue to "ravage" when they are out of town!!! Bike helmet collection as I often do "drive by" pedals to scope out availability... ;)

Bacon wrapped...

Sometimes I have an eating disorder..

and sometimes ..

I have bacon wrapped mozzarella on a stick, with a side of wasabi sauce..from a food truck..because it is EFFIN'..deLISCHOUS...

And maybe I feel like my MIND is "bacon wrapped" ...by this eating disorder...and medical career.

Suffocating me,

squeezing the life out of me...

until I can't breath.

And I have become so accustomed to being "breathless" that its the only way I know how to live anymore.

And then I remember... I can go back to retrieve my old classic SCHWINN..
and ride like I have always wanted to ..

UPRIGHT...
beautiful..

FREE...

And I can also retrieve a (NOT so old!) classic friend...who knew me WELL before my mind became "bacon wrapped" by the eating disorder...and the medical career...

and he reminds me that I am still..

BEAUTIFUL..

and free....

And sometimes you get stuck...running in an effin' DOWNPOUR on your way to your girl's house to retrieve that old classic SCHWINN. And there you are...screaming, running, crying in the rain, but running as fast you as you can to get out of the effin downpour.
You show up in her garage, drenched, sopping wet.  She hands you some towels, and you both commiserate in the garage at the misery of the pouring rain..

UNTIL...

The sun finally comes out.

And now you are handed another opportunity to ride...
upright..
beautiful...
and FREE.

SO my loves....I leave you with this:
While some may believe the only "SURE" thing in life is "Death and Taxes"...I would like to add to that list...the SUN..because it will MOST DEFINITELY ALWAYS..ALWAYS...

ALWAYS

RISE AGAIN....

BROKEN...but still Beautiful...

This is a BEAUTIFUL stem glass my Mother brought back for me from Isola Bella, an island in the middle of Lake Maggiore in Northern Italy.  

After ONE ...

yes..ONE use, 

I successfully broke it!! 

It safely made the journey from Italy to the US, from NJ to NC, and lasted about 20 minutes in my possession.
But it is a perfect example of a beautifully broken glorious disaster ....

"Maybe some people just like to be sick.." he said, as I was reflecting on how my lil small town medical office is like the "Cheers" of Rural NC.

Because when you are here...EVERYBODY KNOWS YOUR NAME because you are here

EVERY.
DAMN.
WEEK..

Because maybe some people just like to be sick.

Because maybe some of us only know how to exist in perpetual 'recovery'...

BECAUSE...

“Life is what happens as you live with the wounds. Life is not a matter of getting the wounds out of the way so that you can finally live. Wounds are never permanently erased. We are fragile beings, and some days we break all over again.” Geneen Roth

But the question is.......can you co exist with someone else and continue to watch them break all over again ...and trust that they can put the pieces back together again, even if they don't want to use your glue??

Can you allow yourself to continue to break all over again, in their presence, knowing you will not accept their glue...and knowing the heartache you are causing as they watch your pieces crumble to the ground?

Or maybe when we break all over again together, our pieces get mixed up during the "clean up"...and we end up with some of the other's pieces glued to ourselves ......

and together we become a magnificent collage o' ruins...

....a BEAUTIFUL and GLORIOUS disaster.

And maybe its better to enjoy being simultaneously broken...revel in your glorious disaster-ness...
and not try so hard to glue each other back together again...

Because we are all RECOVERING ..

EVERY.
DAMN.
DAY.

whether its wounds from the day, week or years ago.

Some of us are just so much more "cool" about it....and don't get their feathers ruffled, or their panties in a bind.

But there are some of us are who are a total DISASTER...running, and pedaling, and starving and punishing ourselves for being susceptible to such wounds in the first place.

Because sometimes my hands will literally tremble and shake as I try to get the food to my mouth. And I often wonder if my "clumsy" is just my subtle attempt to drop the food on purpose so I won't have to eat it.

Or maybe I'm shaking and trembling because I drink COPIOUS amounts of coffee... :)

And maybe I need to stop drinking it black...and add a little creamer every now and then.
Because there are times when the starvation...like the black coffee..becomes too bitter...

And maybe the eating disorder doesn't have to be SO DAMN SERIOUS all the time...

Because the funny thing about the eating disorder...is that its NOT about the food....
Its about protection..and survival.

And it is in the starving where I can find the answers.

Starvation helps to eliminate the unnecessary..strips me down to the core, and allows me to focus
on the most vital concerns...

like survival ...

But maybe I don't need to spend every day just "trying to survive"..

Maybe I can spend some days actually LIVING.

I can add a little bit o' cream...and sit back and enjoy the beautiful and glorious disastrous collage we have created together ..

until one of us breaks...

ALL

OVER

AGAIN.

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

Old DOGS....

NS2 AND THE CAROLINA THEATRE OF DURHAM PRESENT

THREE DOG NIGHT

With Walker County

Friday, March 24 | 8PM

A delightful show I attended with my parents and hubby.  Not quite the epic-sold-out-elaborate-stadium performances we are used to with our Bruce or Metallica shows, but inspiring nonetheless.

Cuz as I watched the lead singer do his "Parkinson's shuffle" up to the microphone, I realized that when you LOVE something, when you are utterly and truly PASSIONATE about something, you will do the SHIT out of it...

And no amount of arthritis, cardiovascular disease, hip replacement or otherwise failing body parts will deter you from your ability to"DANCE TO THE MUSIC."

But what am I passionate about anymore??

Who knows...

I founded myself a career in medicine because I thought I could offer so much more in this venue then the career I was formerly in.
But admittedly, I have been feeling as if I'm only offering the bare minimum these days.
Do I mostly just exist to refill medications?

No thought...no heart...just hit "transmit to pharmacy"

This isn't what I was hoping for...

Way back when the kitchen and I used to get along...
I would often turn out what I thought to be my MOST EPIC and INGENIOUS culinary or baking concoctions. Only for them to be met with an "eh" or otherwise underwhelming response.

More often, it was my "crap-o-la" or screws ups that were on their way into the trash, but somehow landed in the hands of an innocent bystander, that were met with the excessive praise and adulation that I was seeking.

Similar to medicine, my most EPIC and INGENIOUS "concoctions" seem to go unnoticed, as patients tend to be more concerned with the pain in their side, cut on their finger, or unusual looking toe nail,
oh..."And can you refill my blood pressure medication?"

But listening to Three Dog Night's words in front of a sold out osteoarthritic crowd, I was inspired as I watched the audience members slowly rise from their seats, and carefully make their way into the aisle where they were immediately transformed into their former junior selves. I was enthralled as they danced and sang and clapped along to the lyrics they recalled from many decades ago.

We were instructed to  "CELEBRATE, CELEBRATE, CELEBRATE"... bring "JOY TO THE WORLD" ....and most importantly ..

"Got to get back to some good time living..gotta gotta got to get back to GOOD living..."

And watching the sheer joy and enthusiasm among the crowd, I realized...

Maybe these folks just needed to have their "prescriptions refilled" for tonite. 

I continue to be enthralled and inspired, by my aging pooch.  In her 14th year of life, her hind parts failing her as she drags herself around the house.  But this B*ATCH DOES NOT GIVE UP. And until I can find her a suitable doggie wheelchair, she will continue to wake up every morning, drag herself out of her sleeping corner. and wait by the door to go out so she may continue to to sniff and hunt as she has done all her life.... as she too needs to  "TO GET BACK TO THE GOOD LIVING."

And I'm not even saddened watching this scene....because I can still see the "puppy" in her eyes.

Similar to how I could still see the "puppy" in the "old dogs" at the concert.

Observing all these "old dogs" I begin to realize...

Maybe we don't have to be at our most "EPIC" and "INGENIOUS"  or "sold-out-stadium" selves in order to inspire.  Maybe we can inspire just as well while hobbling up to the microphone, dragging ourselves through the yard...or simply refilling someones medication.

Because maybe sometimes that's all someone needs... "TO GET BACK TO THE GOOD LIVING."

She'll always be a puppy to me...

The First Cup....

I continue to starve myself..

and I starved myself of the woods this past weekend.
So when I returned to them this morning...it all came RUSHING back in like a massive flood.

All was so CLEAR..the delicious sounds ...the scrumptious views.
The steep descents that spilled me into the low pockets of warmth.
Just like that a fine glass o' red....that is deep and warm.

When you get down into those deep spots...in the red...there's a lot of work to be done to get out.
But sometimes you just wanna stay wrapped in that warmth for a while.

Eventually...
you decide to pull yourself out.

And as you ascend up the steep climb back to the top, you notice the AMAZING and DELICIOUS views.
And while it may be a little chilly up here, its like that bright crisp white, a Pinot or Sauvignon Grig if you will.

It is clean, dry...

CLEAR

And you can finally see all the majestic views before you.

This AM run felt like I was wrapping myself in a warm, comfy blanket,.alas, as if I was still asleep.....

and i'm reminded:

“That is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great. When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep.” 
~Willa Cather

And I actually did NOT want to over do this one...
I was quite satisfied with "the first cup".
I didn't feel the urge..
or insistence..
or those terrible STARVING pangs for wanting
needing ...
more..

Because that "first cup"
was just right...

 I hope you too might find that "first cup" ...that is JUST RIGHT for you.

There's beauty in the bleeding...

BLEEDING ME

~Metallica

I'm diggin' my way to somethin' better

I'm pushin' to stay with something better

I'm sowing the seeds I take for granted

This thorn in my side is from the tree I've planted

It tears me and I bleed.....

Oh that thorn in my side.....how it bleeds me....

But then there was the day ...TODAY....when I woke up and I DID NOT WANT TO RUN....

but, this is my day off...my free day to go romp in the woods..how could I NOT WANT THIS???

Nope...not on this morning.


I did not want to RUN AWAY from the thorn in my side.


I decided instead of earning my food today...I would do it backwards.


I decided I would pedal to the coffee FIRST...without feeling the obligation to "earn it".


And as I pedal through downtown Raleigh with the sun rising over the high rise buildings and headed toward my usual coffee establishments, I whiz past a coffee shop I've never noticed before.

In large white block letters on the big bay windows i see "DRAFT COFFEE"...

wha wha whaaat??

My head exploded. Coffee on DRAFT? NO WAY...

As this is not my "usual" coffee spot...I lock the bike outside with a bit of hesitancy, but we'll give it a try, its bizzaro-backwards world today anyways so let's throw caution to the wind - literally, cuz it was windy as hell through those city streets!!

I slowly enter. this new find.....and the first thing I notice on the chalk board menu below written neatly below COFFEE is:

SLOW COFFEE (pour over) $4.50

OH.MY.GOD...am I still sleeping, I must be DREAMING??

The beautiful barista even allows me to sample the "fast batch brews" before I decide to commit to the slow pour over. While my selection is being prepared I wander over to the coffee bar and wonder if its possible that this establishment might also possess one of my other "standards" of fine estalishmentary....HOOKS below the bar. Because another thing that drives me absolutely BANANA HAMMOCKS is when a bar does NOT offer hooks with which to hang my baggage. Cuz don't most of us saunter up to a bar with some sorta baggage that we need to hang for a while???

I slowly bend over to peak below....and ALAS there, shimmering in the morning sunlight, are perfectly placed hooks for my "baggage".

OH.MH.GOD...I MUST STILL BE DREAMING!

I hang my items just as I'm handed my slow pour over, which is served in a "for here" mug, as I'm finally gonna stick around for a while..

I takes a sip of the brew...black...no cream...

And....

IT

IS

MAGNIFICENT...

The perfect temperature...the perfect rate of flow of the warm, smooth, silky brew over the thick rim of the mug as it passes my lips and down my gob to warm my belly on this chilly morning.
I peak underneath the mug, while not a VICTOR mug, this is OK, as they are understandably hard to come by.
Instead, imprinted below this mug is a kind reminder of the beauty of a "SLOW BREW"

I find it ironic that I prefer my coffee to be SLOW, while everything else in my life insists on being so FAST, in such a flurry, always on the go, always so "strung out".

I watch downtown Raleigh outside the window of this fine new establishment. I watch cars whiz by. and wind blow around the pedestrians.....I even notice a few runners trot by...

not for me today.

I continue to sip my slow brew, called "Wengo" from a roaster on the west coast - Huckleberry.

The coffee is smooth, balanced, not too much spice or smoke to it...

Kinda like how I feel right now..smooth, balanced, not too much spice or smoke to me right now. I don't feel the urge to whiz around, I am actually feeling comfortable in this stillness....

and I don't always need a second cup..
if I allow myself to enjoy the first.

Oh I feel dizzy and drunk with inspiration....

Here I am..in a NEW coffee establishment..that has met all of my fine establishmentary standards.

Typing away on a NEW laptop..that doesn't have all the "stains and spills" that my former did, as she suffered an untimely demise at the hands of an exploding fizzy-seltzer drink in my commuter bag while pedaling along on a chilly morning many weeks ago.

But maybe it was for the best, as so much DISORDER went into that laptop.

I think about the disorder, and the starvation. There seems to be something very pure and cleansing about starvation, a DETOX, if you will.

But man I been "detoxing" for quite some time now.
And I'm finding it harder and harder to stay AHEAD of the burn, and stay AHEAD of the hunger.

But I feel that through the "starvation", I am able to eliminate too much stimulus, which allows me to see things much more clearly. But like everything else, this too can only be good in small doses, 'cuz then the scale tips and the starvation becomes ..

relentless...
maddening..
controlling,..

and it robs you of your "beauty"..

But there still are plenty of days when I WANT to starve...I NEED to starve..

Why?

Because there's beauty in the bleeding...
and in the spilling..
and in all of the stains in my life...
and clarity in the starving...to realize all of this.

I am so frustrated with myself because I am constantly spilling and staining, but I suppose that's what happen when you you constantly "overfill" your cup.

Why must I always have so much?
My appetite for everything seems to be insatiable..and for this, I am perpetually ashamed.

I am ashamed of my THIRST and HUNGER and GLUTTONY for EVERYTHING in this life..

for slowly poured AND CRACK coffee....
For fine Spanish AND Italian reds AND delicate crisp French whites
AND...creamy west coast Chards..
For beautifully written words and novels to cram into my bookcase
For colorful markers and pens and sharpies to decorate my world...
For witty greeting cards and stationary to share my thoughts...
For plants and flowers and vines to accentuate mother nature's splendor....
For diagnoses..and treatments...and medication interactions ....
For tunes...and Bruce...and Metallica.....and Bob...
For trails ....and pedaling ....and paddling...and plodding....
For hooded sweatshirts and warm comfy pull overs.....
For long scrumptious socks to keep my tootsies toasty....
For four paws and floppy ears....
For bread...and butter ....AND food..AND snacks...

I do love food...and I do love LIFE.

And I want to enjoy food and not feel guilty about it....
I want to run and ride and jump and paddle...and not feel pain while doing so.
When did it all become so painful?
Why do i find myself in so many coffee shops?
And why don't I blow over in this wind when I feel that I should?

Because there's beauty in the bleeding...

I'm tired of being ashamed for being such a mess...

Because there's beauty in the bleeding...

And I believe there is beauty in EACH AND EVERY ONE OF US....in our bleeding, in our spilling, in our stains...
As this is what makes us WHO WE ARE...and we are all BEAUTIFUL JUST AS WE ARE.
And we should NEVER be ashamed of WHO WE ARE..

I believe in YOU...and I thank you...dear friend....who reads these words ...for continuing to inspire me and for believing in ME..and all my stains :)