Inspiring My Compulsion

 I often wonder which I am,

how much of the current circumstances dictate one v. the other. And, why I have to allow the compulsion to have such a negative connotation even when I know that they both play off of each other and feed into each other. 

My kitten Birdie, who I saved from being unwanted, from a 4 month long rabies quarantine, named, spayed, vaccinated, and then gave her a home full of love.
She is checking out her Easter basket I made and the flowers we grew and bouquets I created. 

I tell myself over and over, like some meditational affirmation, that as long as my intentions are pure and genuine with the goal being to serve something and someone beyond me, that it isn't terribly important to categorize and profile. Right? 

Can I be both inspired and compulsive? Is one beneficial and the other detrimental? Can I be a half of two and more than one as the product?

The bike path, Georgetown to Lewes, Delaware

Yesterday we went for a run with the dogs. We are staying at my friends beach house in Lewes, Delaware for the week. Myself, my husband Joe, my sister Diedra, and her two boys along with one of their friends. Our normal routine is to get up around 8 (a good two hours past our normal at home chore and make it to work time), and run with the dogs before it gets too hot outside. The typical mid-July day temps are mid-nineties, and the sun is brutal in its prime. The dogs are excellent vacationers. They are used to being included in all family activities, but they still need outside time and bathroom opportunities. We have a short jog to the old railroad trail that is now blacktopped and wide enough for the brigade of bikes that it hosts. We can go right and head to downtown where The Station on Kings resides. The Station is a barn like looking structure with a sunbathed sky-light interior and a garden store adjacent. White marbled countertops showcase delectable baked goods that are irresistible to all of the senses that attempt to talk down the blood sugar count. This particular morning we ran to the left. Two miles to the left is Old World Breads bakery. Old World hits you within a half mile of its ovens. The invisible lasso of egg sandwiches, fluffy yeasty crusted rolls and coffee is cosmic. The dogs prefer left too. Like the horse returning to the barn these pups pull you to the breads in a hopeful dash to carb-ed bliss. The jog in either direction is only a few miles under a tree canopy tunnel. The dogs are used to sharing the road and they love the adventure almost as much as their chaperones do. 

At each destination we take turns going into the bakery. Dogs aren't allowed and I would never trust mine to not whine and beg in some pitiful display of unmet needs. I stick to a coffee, small. Pack light and stay prepared for the run back. This morning we collected our coffees, packed a backpack with goodies and headed to the nearby park bench to swallow gulps of hot coffee and plan the rest of the day. 

The Station On Kings, Lewes, Delaware

There is only one bench. Sitting there smiling in the shade was a young woman and her flat tired bike. We asked to sit next to her and watched as the dogs approached wagging and gleeful. It is a beach town where dogs are ubiquitous, but that doesn't imply everyone's affirmation to pet loving. Thankfully as they approached she offered a hand of hello. Within minutes we had exchanged basic introductions. Dogs names first, her predicament second. She was biking 20 miles to run her errands for the day and enjoy the sunshine. She, like us, does everything she can to avoid cars, heavy traffic and the bustle the rest of the world accepts as collateral for living in the beaches. She was waiting for her daughter to wake up and come rescue her. We offered to head home and come back to get her with our car. 

"Nope, it's a beautiful day out. So, I am just going to enjoy it here." She was perfectly content to sit and watch the rest of the beach ride by. 

Old World coffee counter

I was struck by her answer. I don't think I can remember the last time that I took joy in being stranded and having to rearrange my list of errands for the day because of it. 

Old World Breads pretzel

Diedra chatted her up and together they both realized they were teachers who agreed that the pulse of the Summer allowed the rest of the years chaos to be permissible. My sister is a math teacher. All rules and animosity to students who struggle to conform to its rigidity. This mom with the flat tire, an art teacher in the local high school. She has been here for over two decades. Long enough to have seen this place balloon into high rises, condos, and vanishing farm lands. 

"I came here as a child. It was always our Summer retreat spot. When I graduated college I got my first job here, lived on the beach in the Summer and I couldn't leave." She now has ids of her own and still cannot get enough of the sunshine and its Summer vibes.

Beach life

She got me thinking about my life. Where I am, how I got here and how much the sun, the sand and the sea influences my joy.

I used to dream of being an artist. immersing my whole soul into color, The creative outburst of just feeling set into the world for pure joy. It is the reason I do so many incursions into my back yard and excursions into the big city. The reason I write and read and find escape in other peoples work. 

The photos of my kids,, at home.

I live vicariously through others. I surround myself with clothes, shoes, jewelry and interior design. I build and acquire and put little pieces of my soul out into the world. Some of it is buried in an abdomen. The magic of surgery set to make the patient a more viable soul to go back into the realm of the living. 

Maybe I get the creative process mixed up with the artistic influence? And maybe the work I build doesn't have to be for pure aesthetics. Maybe the work I do is all about feelings and the hidden magic that building yourself into an expert entails.

Seraphina and me. A very good example of my work.
my inspiration and my compulsion.

Is my passion the same as my inspiration and my compulsion? Yes. Call me what you want but I get to live a life that allows me personal expression, freedom to live and love and the acknowledgment that it makes lives better,, even if those lives can't pay me, or thank me, or allow me to sign my name to it. It's all about giving back and sharing joy. The mark of any great artist. 

The Artists Village in Asheville NC

What inspires you? And, is it enough to compel you to do something?

Stop and Smell the Reflection.

"Please submit 5 stories for review and consideration."

A personal letter from a dear old veterinary friend came in the mail a few weeks ago. It was short, simple and inquiring about using my veterinary blog posts for submission to a compilation book about the stories that make the fabric of a veterinarians life.

"Sure! I would be happy to submit a few of my stories!" I replied eagerly and instantly... I mean, come on,, I write a blog! I have tons of stories. It will be easy to find five.

And thus began the stroll through the 900 stories I have written. Easy? Right? Well, not so much. Seems about three years ago I started writing cases, all cases. Cases to learn from. Cases to help others. Cases to provide transparency for pet parents to learn from,, and in the process I lost my fun. I became the rote routine pet care professional who was all business and no cute fluffy stories. I lost my ability to share what I love most about being a vet in an effort to help other pets..

I took a little break from writing. I had to. I had to remind myself about what my voice was and who I wanted to read about if I was the audience. There had to be balance. Truth be told the world is a mess and I felt lost and disheartened to be in it.

It seemed that I had to shed my joy to shoulder the ever burgeoning burden of need. I feel that Jarrettsville Vet needs to be the answer to all of the pet problems in my community. Jarrettsville Vet also has become the place I spend the biggest part of my life. I am not alone. I know many other practice owners of every other kind of business share this ideology and compulsion. It can take you over. There are many vets before me who have given up everything else to the point that they don't remember, recognize or even reflect on what life used to look like.

We call it our "work-life balance". The terminology the new grads throw around in interviews when they chart the 'pros' v 'cons' list. They have to feel like you aren't over loading them because they need to preserve their "work-life balance". To which I reply, "you just got out of vet school, you never had it and you shouldn't be protecting it now." But I am not that predecessor and these are millennials. They feign from intimidation and crumble under pressure. They don't want any advice that I have short of mentorship on a healthy, less than 40 hours a week.

For me the balance has not been re-calibrated and the work became the life. Hard as I tried to be savvy and see it coming.

The request asked for 5 stories and I had three Herriott-esque ones from my first year out,, none since then. The reflection in the blog mirror proved I had become what I saw coming, drove into, and plead no contest to. Sure, I could dismiss it, pardon it, or even refuse to believe it, but, it happened.

I lost the puppy in the exam of the search for congenital deformities. The purr in the auscultation of abnormal lung sounds. The wag in the assessment of neurological function. The joy in the patient that is more than the sum if its parts. The emotional had succumbed to the analytical.

I needed, I wanted, and I had better take a second to stop and smell the roses. I at least needed to take pause to check my own health status.  There has to be a funny, cute, happy ending story in my day?

Maybe I will try to find the comfort in the challenge of the situation?

Maybe I will just try to recognize my own reflection and ask her if she knows where I went? Or if I just temporarily misplaced her?

Maybe too many of us work harder to find the balance and can't stop the pendulum from swinging higher as we jump from side to side?

Maybe all of this is what makes the greatness within the greater good? Or, maybe I let the grindstone take my nose to spite my intentions otherwise?

Blackjack
A happy ending lives here

About me;

I am available to answer  pet questions for free if you visit Pawbly.com. Pawbly is an open online pet community dedicated to educating, empowering and inspiring pet parents around the globe. 

I can also be found at Jarrettsville Vet in Jarrettsville, Maryland for appointments, or visit us on Facebook. 

I am also on Twitter @FreePetAdvice. Or check out my YouTube channel.