Note To Self

 I sit in the morning inhaling coffee in tiny breaths. Whispering to myself as a calling. A gentle internal reminder just to see if the systems are still running. Neglecting the cylinder count as a small way to permit a flaw here or there. Collateral acceptance snuggled in permissive acceptance. I try to be understanding to the engine that reminds me it is showing its miles.

My Birdie reminding me to relax more than I let myself.

Reality blankets like an insulator. Deep, silencing, unyielding. A tight jacket that hugs back like a finger trap. The more I struggle the harder it embraces. There is no feedback that permits relenting.

..And so I sit quietly. Appearances of acquiescence. A body that ages as the soul stirs lifeblood back in. 

Found on the side of the road with head trauma, blindness, pain and fear.
Her rescuer named her Angel. She, over 5 days, has made an (almost) full recovery.
They remind me that miracles are everywhere if you will let them in.

The daily sequence of hours that exist between coffee at my kitchen table, and the cat purring on my pillow each night are fraught with too many needful souls. Furr-iously feverish with chaos sprinkled atop. It is the life I always dreamt of. The life I felt most honorable, needful, and absolute within. The place where mattering means everything. A shadow of credentials accrediting the mastering of a skill. Those three little letters, punctuated to add significance. Bold, erect, commanding, at the end of the name I was born with. They, well, they were and remain, the epitaph I got to carry my entire veterinary professional career. If you are very fortunate you get to write your own obituary early on, and build that legacy as a path you adorn with good intentions and not feel so burdened by clearing the road for anyone elses foot traffic. 

The professional degree was the bait. But, it brought with it a fear that the years of repetition, the endless one note of the same tune, might produce some degree of boredom.

Stripes, Baby Ketchup, and their girls. Reminding me to take joy in being a part of their story.
There is nothing more that I cherish than being able to see them all grow up together.

The highlights are the same. The stories repeat themselves time and time again. Some with nuances that remind me to be a constant student. Others with a pat of reassurance that practice has brought mastery, and others are a harsh, painful, albeit earned reminders that there is work left to be done. All of the repetition remains welcomed. All of the wrinkles were earned. All of what is behind, ahead and around mine for the pile in my nest. 

P.S. I just celebrated 20 years at Jarrettsville Vet. It's a milestone that I had always hoped to reach. When you find your place you can call it home.