women – Medicinal Conversations

Onward

Well, looks like Retirement — 🌊 1, is about to come to an end. I guess I never felt so strong about this word. Retirement. But this wasn’t the first and it won’t be the last. I will retire to many beach chairs, tables, beds, cities, ranches, countries, states. I will break bread with many people. This I know. It’s why I’m here. To break bread. To listen to stories; something that was quite a deficit in our family, as my Uncle and I just conversed about yesterday. I also know, I’m here to express and share those stories, both theirs and mine –This does not exclude the stories of the land/the sea where I may lay my head. It is as important or more so than the people. Think about that for a minute – Or day. To be in reverence with land, is to be a kinder — more humane human. Whether you’re a human that wants to be left alone or like ants marching (insert Dave Mathews) on colorful city streets, it’s quite the same. Just different music.

Honestly I’d be quite content never donning my Operating Room bouffant again. AND, I know, I will be content in doing so. It will look different as I’ve mentioned. I look different now. Feel different now. Being the curious tot, as my friend in Scotland says, especially around Medicine — How it’s practiced, who’s participating, what does it mean to do what we do, for another, and does it matter Red State or Blue State, gives this career all the more intrigue. Meaning.

This woman here, she’s also got some #goals, though I think I like the word dreams/visions better. Goals sound as rigid as retirement. So, with that said (insert the drums) I will begin my first, Travel Nurse assignment on the last day of this month. In LA. Not to be confused with L.A. It is a place that called me first. Perhaps because I spent time there when I was a child and have very little memories, expect for certain smells. Isn’t that interesting? And something I’m sure many will understand. Some of you will say, “But you love NM,” and my answer is, She will be my anchor. ⚓ Ojo Caliente, is after all, the Crone Energy and She is included in my vision. 😉

Much love and of course more to come….💞

#44

Tis the day. I was born. But being born is something I’m used to…again and again. And with birth there is death; also quite familiar with death. I was never baptized. Kinda consider myself lucky — As I have gotten to choose who and what does the baptizing in my many new beginnings. Transitions. I never belonged to the church; also pretty lucky. Those that carry on confessing to a white man, well, I was on to that BS before you could say hallelujah. Anyway what a digression, I wanted to speak on what I’ve learned, mostly between 43 and 44.

I’ve learned that things aren’t as scary as we make them out to be in our head. And now, yes, things are actually kinda scary and it’s not in our heads. It’s not a conspiracy. It’s truly a shake down and break down(personally and collectively) I have learned more love for humans across the aisle and continents. I looked into the eyes of many strangers on my travels and witnessed myself — Love returned. A belonging. I learned that I can do it!! I never set out to prove that — but it sure feels good to climb mountains both literally and not. Btw, I went down a mountain the other day with a man — came up solo. A woman and a Mountain; oh there’s so much more to this. I cannot explain the profound exhilaration at its peak, tears and laughter at once. I imagine it’s the collective feelings of a woman’s soul. Giving birth to something — another Being, her voice, her business, art // HERSELF.

This year, for me, I’ve learned blood is not thicker than water. I’ve learned that not only Spirit has me/holds me/carries me, but my chosen family as well. As I write this it’s like cupid has a thousand arrows in me. I have been love struck by so many beautiful humans — on my many trips around the sun. But this year, now in the arc of our planet’s awakening, I am, to the moon, grateful for the container(a small set) of women on my stage. I am thankful for the deep inquiry, the conversation — the reciprocity. The healing. The “how do we charter these waters?” Together.

“Tits up” (who knows where this comes from?) Oh and…..Life is Fucking short!

Holly

Nurse Me

Well here it goes. The Nurse me. If we want to speak of “battles” then I have a battle wound or two. These wounds are more akin to tears(holes, breaks) in my heart. It’s ironic, as my inner compass showed me Medicine for a reason. But it appeared to me,(through my body/my health)in almost my 20th year of service that the way of the West, the way of New York; powering through, the way of metrics, evaluation, speed, waste, and profits no longer met my inner standards/values of what Medicine means to me. In my heart.

I worked and pushed through a lot of disempowerment in my hospital days. The only thing bringing me back from these edges was not a boss that says “If people aren’t happy, they can leave.” It was the immense humility to connect and be present, make more comfortable, to see; to see another through a most vulnerable time. Through the gifts of what medicine, at its roots, also entails. Yet these gifts, and I will name them, are the Femine values and virtues/the intangible/the unmeasurable,unquantifiable parts to the whole, that often go unrecognized. It is the gift of selflessness; as a human being on their deathbed that says. “Give a piece of me to another, please,” and they donate an organ. It is the Nurse that shows up to work countless hours to send money home to their families. It is the Caretaker that comes to work sick, because there lies in these systems, lots of trickery, guilt and shame. It is a system that, in the current conditions, looks so unified on the outside. But the truth is, it’s broken.

This is not meant to drag the current resilience, bravery and light by which we view the Health Care system off the stage. I only write this to cast some shade…because there’s always a shadow. I admit, I felt betrayed as I walked out of the locker room after eight years of service to a place I brought heart, soul, light and wisdom to. But I am also so proud of who I’ve become in the process. I know that we each are our own Medicine following our own heart’s Lub,Dub. And I was definitely one, to march to the beat of my own drum, always. I guess I no longer felt part of the beat.

The Salve

Yesterday I felt a grief down in my bones. A feeling, like something is missing. Something that can’t be reached through a screen. Even beauty or God, for that matter. That feeling; it’s more of a salve than a prescription. It’s a connection. My skin resting in a hug. Hand holding hand. It’s checking vitals. Not with a cold device between your heart and mine. Rather vitals as, “what is vital to you dear human?”

It is warm sand again, between my toes. Sharing a gin in a small back room where all mouths are poets’ mouths. It is the company of a healer not just my own healing company. The company of little ones, old ones and even homeless ones. There was this one man in silver rings, wearing black, always. Summer and winter under the scaffolding on Howard Street, our eyes would meet. We would bow our heads in honor. I wonder how he’s doing presently…as he is God too. Also beauty.

That feeling; that salve I so viscerally want to taste. It is Humanness. The sweet and sacred collective. The community. The planet, yours and theirs. May we be brought home soon dear ones, minus the masks we once(and always) wore.