The Tipping Point. When There Is More Behind You Than In Front.

The tipping point.

There is a place, a moment, a collection of revelations, where you realize, bring to your own attention, that you are looking back, (horrifically in some cases even attempting to relive, revive and recollect the exact details of what was before), more than looking forward. 

That place where there is more behind you than in front of you, and not only is that the truth, but worse, your preference defers to back versus ahead.

Gracie. Just rescued. Her mouth was soo diseased the smell would knock you over.
All of her teeth had to be removed. This is her waking up.
She was a different (soo much happier) cat 24 hours later.
The degree of neglect she came to us with was pitiful and compelling.

In the misery of many a childhood moment I would sit, close my eyes and imagine the magic that lay ahead. Too often the allure of what might be. What I could salivate over. Some lustful moment. A momentous accomplishment dreamt of but yet to be fulfilled. A far away land with all of its exotic flavors. I got by, (a theme song from my favorite Grateful Dead anthem), because I projected forward. Those invisible carrots of motivation lay just at the tip of my tongue. Propelled me forward through what turned out to be some pretty traumatizing growing up. 

At 50ish I have realized that the carrot has shape shifted. It no longer hovers above calling. It lays beside me waiting. The small dirt-dusted, blunted, jaundiced nut in a collection resembling a sickened nest of eggs to ride out the Winter. 

The snowdrops and the crocus.
They remind me to believe in beginnings,, even after all of the endings.

Unbeknownst to me the tipping point hasn't evolved into a concession, rather a gentle acceptance that the To-Do list, my collective life accomplishments still yet ephemerous, need to be fast-tracked. That list cannot be allowed to outlive me, good intentions, or fate deciding.

Perhaps other people spend their autumnal time reflecting on the amassed possessions as some aging dragon in her liar of pillaged treasures? Perhaps not having children to leave a better life to isn't the motivation to dying with assets left behind? Or, perhaps even more disturbingly I recognize my stash will outlive me. I will not be able/chose not to, exhaust it before the timeline draws to a close. Perhaps this is the tipping point? that place where your efforts tip to giving back versus gaining more? Perhaps that's what aging, retirement, exhaustion and a worn out body brings to your peace of mind as the collective cacophony of a chaotic world swirls around you?

My Raffles kitten. She was given up on because her sibling came up positive for rabies.
Four months of quarantine and she is mine.
Life for me works like this. These needful souls find me.
I am as much grateful for them as I am for the fate that brings them to me.

Maybe that's why I am so much happier in the looking back than the drive to accelerate forward?

Oh, that's right, today is Tuesday. I must get dressed and go fight those diseases and dragons for another good day of deeds in the small animal vetmed trenches. I'll rest tomorrow and save a carrot for the slumber another day. 

Raffles watches as Birdie wakes up from her spay surgery.

Tipping points too often get me confused between tipping and pivoting. I don't know if I can recognize one versus the other any longer.

There is a real-life plight in vetmed these days. Those of us who grew up in the trenches, took on a place of our own, led or our community practice for a few decades, sunk our whole lives into. We are at a place now where we have to decide how to exit. Do we take the big cash out from the guys who might as well have a Hamburgler face on. Their shifty eyes, smooth talking and thick gravid unexplained check books? Or, do we try to find some new grad willing to take the reigns and care for the next generation of pets the way our previous generations of vets did? Is that even possible?

Hamburgler holding the American icon hostage

Me, I am at a place where the box has to be rethought, reinvented and repurposed for the greater good and not the singular cash out retirement/burnout plan. Me, I'm pivoting before the tip pulls me under.