Well, hello again

It has been awhile, yes? Why so long? Life, I suppose. Also feeling a little like, 'what the hell do I have to say that either someone else hasn't said well or that anyone cares to read?'. Honestly, it's all been said and done, right? But I am realizing there is a deep compulsion in me to shut that silly voice up, the voice of doubt, the cynical little self saboteur that lurks from time to time. Shut the hell up, doubter. Shut up cynicism. Shut up been there done that thoughts. Ok, now that that's out of the way, hello again! Hello from very very windy New Mexico, where, in the last week we've enjoyed mudstorms, winds gusting to 80 mph, downed power lines, fires in orchards that have destroyed ancient, magical fruit trees and habitat for local birds and bees and humans. I encountered, on my drive home from work last week during 50 mph crosswinds and a mudstorm the like of which I've never encountered, a tumbleweed as large as my car bouncing across the road. It was 'oh shit!' huge, and and I was super grateful when it managed to bounce over to the side of the road before I passed. It has been superbly, comfortably springlike warm, then absolutely frigid and hostile and dangerously windy, all in a week. WTF? It is simply unsettling to have parts of your home fly away...when caught in a particularly vicious gust. This stuff really needs to calm down, and soon. In an informal survey conducted over the last ten days, I've found most of us have endured something ridiculous, something scary, something fundamentally unsettling. My patients have all had weird stories to tell. These stories, given my rural clinic practice, usually involve horses, angsty livestock, tumbleweeds,fussy goats, uncharacteristically aggressive chickens and barns...in some form or another. And none of the stories have been funny yet. So we are all really ready for the shitty weather, solar flare storms, and general nonsense to cease. Now would be a great time for said ceasing. Life is feeling a lot more normal than the last time I was here. Normal, though, has shifted a bit, hasn't it? Our classical definition vs what we're inclined to consider normal now is different. It's like, after almost three years of COVID we've opted to simply lower the bar when it comes to our view of reality. We've seemingly, collectively, decided that it's ok to be happy with a lesser version of perfect. We've adapted. And here we are. We've all dealt with the mask thing, with differing results. We've all dealt with the vaccination thing, with varying results. Many of us have emerged from the COVID cloud bruised but still here. We're all a little twitchy, and I have noticed in others and experienced for myself a level of intolerance for general bullshit, now. It's like we just go, 'really, you want to monopolize my time with that level of nonsense? No thanks.' There is a sense of collective PTSD that has been well earned, and through which we must navigate. I have routinely added special PTSD treatments for almost all of my patients in the last several years. None of us are above the pull of the memories, at this point. So if you haven't acknowledged your own, please do. Please take time to meditate, to contemplate, to count your blessings, to embrace the beauty of simply being alive, being here, being in a place to feel snark and joy and love and angst, not necessarily in that order. Because many, many don't have that luxury anymore. And taking a moment to recognize and appreciate that? Is time well spent. This is getting long. I should probably wrap this one up, yes? Modern readers don't really like long content anymore. Fortunately, a) I don't have the normal following and, b) this is my blog, so if I want to be windy, so be it. I hope you are well, that you look forward to Spring and tulips and daffodils and the smell of the Earth as she awakens for another cyle of growth, birth, renewal. I've missed you. Hugs and love, Stevie