In the deepest and truest moments of love, therein lie the equally deep and inescapable caverns of heartbreak. Love's antithesis. For the truest of hearts, their light guides them to the banks of believing...the shore of sincerity and truth. For others, their shore is never reached and hearts succumb to the tidal waves of anguish with damage too abysmal for repair. With pleadings for relief and in the desperation to breathe freely amongst the living, one seeks solidarity in the arms of self -worth, the outstretched hands of hope...sometimes only to slip through the fingers of self -doubt and come to final rest on the sands of a love unrequited. It is in these lowest moments that the purest love pulses with forgiveness, thrives on dreams that once built stairways with dandelions and embraced delicate moonbeams... It is this pure heart that bleeds a crimson river of clarity for the dancing fingertips of the sun and carves a new path amongst the landscape of broken pieces. It swallows all of your indecisions, your fears, your inabilities, your secrets, your betrayals and instead offers a reflection of what could have been...and loves you even in your refusal to see.
Deviant Noodle Web Search
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Where did the time go??
Can't believe that it's been more than 5 months since my last post. It's impressive how much life can be squeezed into a mere 150 or so days! Here's a recap for those of you wondering what the hell I've been up to.
- Fell in love
- Started the spring semester
- Had my Florida "kids" move out to CO with me
- Was selected as 1 of 14 for Alpine's Search and Rescue training class
- Had my heart completely crushed
- Got back into the best shape of my life
Started a veterinary internship
- Became president of the UC Denver Future Doctors Club
- Realized she was not at all worth my tears nor the money I was spending on tissues
- Completed Alpine Search and Rescue training and became field active
- Became an official employee of the veterinary office I was interning with
- Bought a Jeep!!
- Finished the spring semester
- Gained a much deeper understanding of ME, who I am, who I'm not, and who I want to be
- Developed a deep appreciation for those in my life whom embrace sincerity and honesty as a keystone of their character
- Stood in on several incredible surgeries at work and was offered an internship with the mobile surgeon
- Discovered that I really like expensive cabernet, lol
- Started building a deck at my cabin
- In the midst of planning some pretty incredible veterinary opportunities for myself
I've recently been diagnosed with H.D.D...
It can happen to any of us. A diagnosis that falls out of the sky causing us to re-evaluate EVERYTHING, right down to the way in which we breathe, walk across the street, and tie our shoes. It's an awakening that spawns an inner dialogue of self reflection, sometimes judgement, and reconsideration of choices made.
My diagnosis of H.D.D. came a mere 24 hours ago in the most unlikely of forms and location for such a revealing. I was taking long sips out of my short glass of Captain and Sprite at my favorite watering hole along side a co-worker whom was contemplatively stirring her margarita. Our conversation had sauntered in and out of remarks over the Rockies game playing on the bar's tv and our deepest heartfelt aspirations as women aiming to become something meaningul when we grow up. She a nurse, myself a veterinary surgeon...among other things. Lofty goals floating on the horizon for both of us...
Bar chatter of the locals and the noise of a persistent straw searching for any remnants of liquid left hiding in between ice cubes cut through our moment of quiet, self evaluations. It was a sigh and long stare that preceded her nonchalant, yet confident metaphorical slap of my disease declaration that she obviously had harbored knowledge of for quite some time.
"You have H.D.D., Stace. You suffer from Hero Deficiency Disease. Every goal you have is somehow related to saving the world."
I chuckled. That kindof reactive chuckle that falls out like a gutteral reflex when you're not sure if someone is joking or not. She smiled back but not the I'm just kidding smile. She smiled in that unwavering I'm being dead serious so deal with it kindof smile. In true search and rescue style I returned to a dedicated probe search for Captain hiding in my glass. The diagnosis was sinking in to my bloodstream faster than my short glass of happy hour and the million thoughts that had just been set into motion gave the false, dizzy feeling of being buzzed.
She was right. I fill my days, my moments, my head with marathon like loops of "have to's", "should's", "gotta's", "how can I help?" and "I will's" until I'm exhausted by the weight of the dreams and aspirations I carry around in a backpack too big for my frame.
H.D.D... I wonder if it's curable. Somehow, I have a gut feeling my condition is terminal...
If the cure is to adopt a more conventional, mediocre existence than I'll take my chances with the prognosis. I'd rather die being a hero to someone than die having been nothing at all.
My diagnosis of H.D.D. came a mere 24 hours ago in the most unlikely of forms and location for such a revealing. I was taking long sips out of my short glass of Captain and Sprite at my favorite watering hole along side a co-worker whom was contemplatively stirring her margarita. Our conversation had sauntered in and out of remarks over the Rockies game playing on the bar's tv and our deepest heartfelt aspirations as women aiming to become something meaningul when we grow up. She a nurse, myself a veterinary surgeon...among other things. Lofty goals floating on the horizon for both of us...
Bar chatter of the locals and the noise of a persistent straw searching for any remnants of liquid left hiding in between ice cubes cut through our moment of quiet, self evaluations. It was a sigh and long stare that preceded her nonchalant, yet confident metaphorical slap of my disease declaration that she obviously had harbored knowledge of for quite some time.
"You have H.D.D., Stace. You suffer from Hero Deficiency Disease. Every goal you have is somehow related to saving the world."
I chuckled. That kindof reactive chuckle that falls out like a gutteral reflex when you're not sure if someone is joking or not. She smiled back but not the I'm just kidding smile. She smiled in that unwavering I'm being dead serious so deal with it kindof smile. In true search and rescue style I returned to a dedicated probe search for Captain hiding in my glass. The diagnosis was sinking in to my bloodstream faster than my short glass of happy hour and the million thoughts that had just been set into motion gave the false, dizzy feeling of being buzzed.
She was right. I fill my days, my moments, my head with marathon like loops of "have to's", "should's", "gotta's", "how can I help?" and "I will's" until I'm exhausted by the weight of the dreams and aspirations I carry around in a backpack too big for my frame.
H.D.D... I wonder if it's curable. Somehow, I have a gut feeling my condition is terminal...
If the cure is to adopt a more conventional, mediocre existence than I'll take my chances with the prognosis. I'd rather die being a hero to someone than die having been nothing at all.
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