I’m back!
After my last 72-hour-call shift over Christmas weekend, I packed up my car and set out on a whirlwind of a roadtrip: over 5000 miles of podcasts and audiobooks, catching up with friends and family, and remembering how cold single-digit weather feels. I also had lots of alone time in the car to think, grieve, cry, and finally deeply feel the emotions linked to all the changes that are happening in my life right now. I truly had intended to do far more written reflection — both journaling for myself as well as blog reflections — but eventually I decided to simply embrace the chance to fully be where I was and with the people I hadn’t seen in a very long time.
And what an experience it was! It was incredibly special to reconnect with dear friends and find that we could easily settle into deep conversations despite massive changes in our lives since we’d last seen each other. I got to meet new children, hear about new jobs, see new homes. We shared our complicated, messy, beautiful lives.
Obviously, many of the conversations and questions people had for me revolved around the next stage of my life. Are you still going to work as a doctor? Where are you going to live? Are you going to start dating again? What are you doing for health insurance and student loans (yes, even that mundane)? Do you want to come work at my clinic/hospital in __?
Lots of big questions to ponder. Thank goodness the United States is so big (it took about 13 hours just to drive across Texas…)!
One of the podcasts that I’ve been listening to is Lean Out, by Dr. Dawn Baker. Her goal, generally speaking, is to help women specifically (and the typically “high-achieving” population at large) know that they have the option to step off the “Treadmill of Achievement” and seek a new approach to work-life balance. One of the episodes I resonated with was “Experiments,” as well as the question Dr. Baker poses for the listener at the end.
How can you view your next move as an experiment, and what will that experiment be?
Let me just say that giving up the notion that my next move needs to be a slam dunk has been incredibly freeing. I have long assumed that the job that pays the bills is the one in which I should be finding my fulfillment. For example, the following paragraphs demonstrate the circular thinking that typically leaves me feeling pretty darn hopeless about the idea that I could ever create a balanced life that also feels like I’m in my calling.
I know that I still love medicine. I know that I desperately want to spend more time outside. People have suggested expedition medicine, but also I think I want to incorporate working with immigrants and refugees. Expedition medicine tends to be targeted toward people with plenty of financial means, and that’s not really who I want to be working with all the time.
So, if I think I want to work with immigrants and refugees, why not just work at a federally qualified health center that has a large percentage of that patient population? Well, because I also know that those jobs still typically expect more from providers than they can possibly accomplish with so little time. Do I truly think a 15-20 minute visit (*and probably with an interpreter!*) is going to feel any less overwhelming than my last job just because it’s a population I want to work with? And what about my hopes to get outside more and to have enough social energy to engage in my community?
I have had this conversation with myself and others more times than I can count.
However, what if my desire for variety and service could be spread across multiple points instead of expecting to find it all neatly packaged in a single career? My experiment in the next stage, I think, will look something like this:
- Doing locums (sort of like “travel-doctor”) work here and there to pay the bills. I am not counting on this to feel particularly fulfilling, but who knows — I could be surprised!
- Participating in more outdoor volunteer activities, like the trail work I did on Thursday in Saguaro National Park (this post’s photo is from that day). I wouldn’t have been able to do that activity during the week otherwise.
- Seeking out opportunities to volunteer with organizations serving immigrants and refugees, whether in a medical capacity or otherwise. This (theoretically) will allow me to maintain more control over my time and energy since I’m not contracted to work a certain number of days or see a certain number of patients all the time.
- Maybe join Search and Rescue in the future for the outdoors + adrenaline aspect??
- I anticipate that I will continue to meet and develop a community of like-minded people as I get involved in a variety of activities that I care about, but I hope, still, too maintain a practice of contemplation and solitude for my own renewal.
I suppose it could all go terribly, and I will end up in a “normal” doctor role again, but I sort of doubt I’m going to have a bad time with this experiment. It is, however, reassuring that the (most-likely) worst case scenario is basically just doing what I was doing.
While I might regret leaving my safe and secure job, I know that I would regret not exploring another model of life and giving myself a chance to bloom. Come along with me for the adventure!
Thoughts to Ponder:
How about you? How can you view your next move as an experiment, and what will that experiment be?
I’d love to hear about it! Share in the comments, or email me at myimpendingbloom@gmail.com.
A Sense of Impending Bloom 
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