Learn To Fly

A couple of days ago I took Yorkie & Porkie on our afternoon walk to get the mail and stretch our legs. Not far down the path Yorkie stopped to relieve himself. I spotted a little tiny baby bird bouncing around in the xeriscape, under a dense tree. I could hear mama singing to him high in the branches above. The baby bird did not seem to know how to fly. It was perfectly formed and very tiny, but every time Y & P would lunge at it, the bird would do these little hops away. I finally spotted mama, in the thick foliage above, stretched out on a limb and calling a mother's cry high into the air, her little red chest stretched wide and proud. Oh I wanted to put baby bird back in its nest! But you can't do that, the mother will smell human and shun their own child, right? No malicious intent, just a preservation instinct I remembered learning about in my childhood. I thought about going to grab some rubber gloves but there was no finding the nest in the dense tree above. Besides, how was I gonna get up there, with a half-ounce bird in my hands no less?

I made some chirping sounds, channeling mama bird to fly down to where her baby was. Neighbors started to look at me oddly. I looked at the baby and told him he needed to teach himself how to fly. He just sat and stared, gaining tiny little stirrings in his wings as the moments passed, I prayed. I decided to go get the mail and see how far this avian duo could get in my absence. I walked back to find baby still hopping on the gravel and mama far away, way at the top of a very tall palm tree. Still chirping for her baby, still searching, still calling. And I looked at that little guy down there and knew he had to learn to fly if he were to survive. And there was not one damn thing I could do to make this happen. The circle of life, I thought. So cruel. So harsh. The metaphor just knit together right then and there. Smacked me in the face and provided instant clarity. For this is exactly what I am working so hard for, trying to do for all of you.

I had wings, but I did not know how to use them. I could fly, but no one had ever shown me how. In fact everyone told me it was impossible. So I sat on the ground and cried and whined and bitched and moaned, flinging myself around in desperation. But no one else was on the ground with me, so I had to figure out how to get back up to where the rest of the world was. For I was not gonna sit there in the gravel when everyone I knew and loved was soaring high up in the sky. And that, my friends, is why when someone asks me how to get better from Fibromylagia I, like most doctors out there, cannot give a pat answer. I don't know what you need to do to get better from Fibro. Through my own personal journey, massive amounts of self-education on health and wellness, and a big fat dose of self-discovery I figured out how to improve my quality of life to something worth living. But what worked for me may not work for you. And what works for you may not work for the next patient reading this blog. True freedom, understanding and healing comes with time. Experience. And more than its fair share of blood, sweat and tears. So I am here to say soar high my birdies, despite what you may have been told, you can do it. And don't stop searching, trying, seeking and finding until you do! The deepest desire of my heart is that every single one of you will find your wings, and believe you can fly again too.

Thanks for joining,

Leah