since passing my board exam i have relearned relaxation
languid, stillness, santosha.
i had forgotten how.
at first it felt easier to maintain the routine of studying,
because
the body does what it is taught.
“habits are cobwebs, then cables”
it is said.
beliefs are, too.
in this time of softening
allowing mind and soul to marinate together again
i watch tendrils of myself grow
finally brave enough to wander past the confines
of
Supposed to
Should
and
Must.
free to dream,
these wayward tendrils reach to the future
they imagine my future practice
its logo, a lotus
serenely supported, protected, surrounded by my open palms.
but
the upcoming twelve hour days
in which i am expected to daily strive for a fresh gold star of approval
leave no space or time to follow these vines
to wonder
what does it really mean to nourish, sustain, and heal?
i am expected to partake in a yearlong daily battle of bravado
wear my exhaustion like a badge of honor
to remind my attendings that this system chose correctly,
the sorting hat made no mistakes.
i’m tough enough.
i am expected to trade sleep and nourishment to accomplish as many tasks as possible
complete as many working hours as possible
so as to impress my superiors as often as possible
apparently, self-deprecation is the yard stick by which the dedication of doctors in training are judged.
i wonder
what kind of healing can be given,
can be learned,
when the healer-to-be is sickened in the process?
i used to know better
than to listen to what my soul and spirit need.
i would use scissors to
trim
and
curtail
these wayward tendrils of mine
lest they take root
and anchor me
outside the safety and certainty of the prescribed process.
but my scissors are rusted now,
blades dulled from hours spent wandering the humid and salty coastline down under
damp air that nourished fresh sprouts
my wayward tendrils
(once cobwebs, now cables)
that grew and grew
have now taken root
and anchored me.
07/2022 ~ written just prior to starting third year
