Re-run.... On Call

Most medical professionals grow up being freaks.

While other kids play outside, we hole up in our rooms memorizing the periodic table, huddling for hours over our junior microscopes, dissecting our first frogs.

Imagine how surprised and relieved we were when we grew up and found out there were others out there just as freaky as we were.

Same microscopes, same dead frogs, same inexplicable urge to take human beings apart.

Nobody chooses to be a freak.

Most people don't even realize they're a freak until it's way too late to change it. No matter how much of a freak you end up being, chances are there's still someone out there for you, unless, of course, they've already moved on.

Because when it comes to love, even freaks can't wait forever.

Chapter 3

Saving for later the argument about whether God exists at all (no-here's a better idea: let's skip that argument completely), let me first explain why I use the word God, when I could just as easily use the words Jehovah, Allah, Shiva, Brahma, Vishnu or Zues. Alternatively, I could call God "That," which is how the ancient Sanskrit scriptures say it, and which I think comes close to the all-inclusive and unspeakable entity I have sometimes experienced. But that "That" feels impersonal to me - a thing, not a being - and I myself can not pray to a That. I need a proper name, in order to fully sense a personal attendance. For this same reason, when I pray, I do not address my prayers to The Universe, The Great Void, The Force, The Supreme Self, The Whole, The Creator, The Light, The Higher Power, or even the most poetic manifestations of God's name, taken, I believe, from the Gnostic gospels: "The Shadow of the Turning."
I have nothing against any of these terms. I feel they are all equal because they are all equally adequate and inadequate descriptions of the indescribable. But we each do need a functional name for this indescribability, and "God" is the name that feels the most warm to me, so that is what I use. I should also confess that I generally refer to God as a "Him," which doesn't bother me because, to my mind, it's just a convenient personalizing pronoun, not a precise anatomical description or a cause for revolution. Of course, I don't mind calling God a "Her," and I understand the urge to do so. Again - to me, these are both terms, equally adequate and inadequate. Though I do think the capitalization of either pronoun is a nice touch, a small politeness in the presence of the divine.
Culturally, though not theologically, I'm a Christian. I was born a Protestant of the white Anglo-Saxon persuasion. And while I do love that great teacher of the peace who was called Jesus, and while I do reserve the right to ask myself in certain trying situations what indeed He would do, I can't swallow that one fixed rule of Christianity insisting that Christ is the only path to God. Strictly speaking, then, I cannot call myself a Christian. Most of the Christians I know accept my feelings on this with grace and open-mindedness. Then again, most of the Christians I know don't speak very strictly. To those who do speak (and think) strictly, all I can do here is offer my regrets for any hurt feelings and now excuse myself from their business.
Traditionally, I have responded to the transcendent mystics of all regions. I have always responded with breathless excitement to anyone who has ever said that God does not live in a dogmatic scripture or in a distant throne in the sky, but instead abides very close to us indeed - much closer than we can imagine, breathing right through our own hearts. I respond with gratitude to anyone who has ever voyaged to the center of that heart, and who has then returned to the world with a report for the rest of us that God is an experience of supreme love. In every religious tradition on earth, there have always been mystical saints and transcendents who report exactly this experience. Unfortunately many of them have ended up arrested and killed. Still, I think very highly of them.
In the end, what I have come to believe about God is simple. It's like this - I used to have this really great dog. She came from the pound. She was a mixture of about ten different breeds, but seemed to have inherited the finest features of them all. She was brown. When people asked me, "What kind of dog is that?" I would always give the same answer: "She's a brown dog." Similarly, when the questions is raised, "What kind of God do you believe in?" my answer is easy: "I believe in a magnificent God."

In The Known

It's a common belief that positive thinking leads to a happier healthier life. As children we are told to smile, be cheerful, and put on a happy face. As adults we are told to look on the bright side, to make lemonade, and see glasses as half full.

Sometimes reality can get in the way of our ability to act the happy part though. Your hope can fail, boyfriends can cheat, friends can disappoint.

It's in these moments, when you just want to get real, drop the act, and be your true scared unhappy self.

Ask most people what they want out of life and the answer is simple - to be happy.

Maybe it's this expectation though of wanting to be happy that just keeps us from ever getting there.

Maybe the more we try to will ourselves to state's of bliss, the more confused we get - to the point where we don't recognize ourselves.

Instead we just keep smiling - trying to be the happy people we wish we were. Until it eventually hits us, it's been there all along.

Not in our dreams or our hopes but in the known, the comfortable, the familiar.

Its Worth The Pain

We live in a world of constant progress and emotion. Stand still for a second and you’ll be left behind. But as hard as we try to move forward, as tempting as it is to never look back, the past always comes back to bite us in the ass. And as history shows us again, and again, those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it.

Sometimes the past is something you can’t let go of.

Sometimes the past is something we’ll do anything to forget.

And sometimes we learn something new about the past that changes everything we know about the present.

Medical professionals... we aren’t complacent people. We don’t put our feet up. We don’t sit still. Whatever the game is, we like to win. And once we win, we get a new game. We push ourselves, residents, attendings... it doesn’t matter how much we achieve. If you’re a climber, there’s always another mountain.

All the pictures you ever see of mountain climbers are from the top of the mountain. They are smiling, ecstatic, triumphant. They don’t take pictures along the way because... who wants to remember that?!?!

We push ourselves because we have to, not because we like it. The relentless climb, the pain and anguish of taking it to the next level – nobody takes pictures of that, nobody wants to remember. We just want to remember the view from the top, the breathtaking moment at the edge of the world.

That’s what keeps us climbing and it’s worth the pain, that’s the crazy part.

It’s worth anything.

Have a fabulous time, friend. Travel safe, stay well.

Benin 2009

Amid All The Crap

Fresh starts.

Thanks to the calendar, they happen every year, just set your watch to January.

Our reward for surviving the holiday season is a new year, bringing on the great tradition of New Year’s resolutions. Put your past behind you and start over.

It’s hard to resist the chance at a new beginning. A chance to put the problems of last year to bed.

But, who get’s to determine when the old ends and the new begins. It’s not a day on a calendar, not a birthday, not a new year. It’s an event. Big or small. Something that changes us. Ideally, it gives us hope. A new way of living and looking at the world.

Letting go of old habits, old memories.

What's important is that we never stop believing we can have a new beginning.

But its also important to remember, that amid all the crap are a few things really worth holding on to.

My Own Tribe

It is an urban myth that suicide rates spike at the holidays. Turns out... they actually go down. Experts think its becuase people are less likely to "off" themselves around family.

Ironically, that same "family togetherness" is thought to be the reason that depressions rates actually do spike at the holidays.

There's an old proverb that says, "you can't choose your family", you take what fate hands you. And like them or not, love them or not, understand them or not... you cope.

Then there's the school of thought that says the family you are born into is simply a starting point. They feed you, they clothe you, and they take care of you... until you are ready to go out into the world... and find your own tribe.

Happy Holidays.


Sandra, Suey, and I
Roommate Christmas Photo
Africa Mercy 2009