hakomi

Letters to a young doctor... a gift from the dying

Letters to a young doctor... a gift from the dying

I have been thinking of you lately, how hard. You work on the analytical, mechanical, decisive approach to medicine. How hard you work to get the diagnosis just right so you can prescribe the right cure. I remember how that felt, and I wanted to give you a little taste of how you change over the next 25 years.

Lessons in Love...

Lessons in Love...

‘I am curious about your use of the word allow.’

My breath caught in my throat, tightness grabbed at my heart, and for a second the sense of vertigo was there, I was on the precipice looking down.  What had she seen, what had I shown, and why did she hone in on that phrase. 

‘I want to offer you some words… notice what happens when you hear them…. It’s OK to allow yourself to be loved.’ 

I turned in, felt the instability in my seat, felt myself twisting just a bit as I looked into that place where it felt scary. 

Needing to be helpful.....

Needing to be helpful.....

Sometimes Medicine wants more than you can give, and there are many times in the past when I’ve given Medicine everything I had and a little bit more. These days, I give medicine what it deserves and nothing more. I don’t spend myself into debt for Medicine, I don’t empty my emotional banks to make sure that Medicine is full, I do what I can and when I get to the end of what I have to give Medicine, I stop.

The inner child...

The inner child...

He is watching me as I go about my morning.  I can feel him just below the surface, noticing what I am up to.  He is ever curious, this little one, and lately he has not been far away.  I can hear his questions about what I am doing, why I am doing it, and what it all means.  He is always asking ‘Why?’ and as often as I can, I work to answer his questions.  He did not used to visit me at all, and for the longest time, I did not know he existed. 

Anger and shame

Anger and shame

What would they do if I told them the truth?  How would they see me? How would they think of me? Would I be disgusting to them?  These thoughts swam through my head as I sat in front of Melissa, our trainer,  for a demonstration.  It was the start of our weekend Hakomi training and my mind was seething with all the possibilities of what might happen.  Behind my eyes there was a push to simply tell it all, leave no secret unsaid, and let the chips fall where they might. Then there was the catch in my chest, the fear of what would happen if I just did this, if I just disclosed all my shame.  In the end, I censored what was presented during the demonstration, but in her eyes, I could tell that Melissa had seem so much more than I had said, her tears reflected what was in my heart, unspoken in that moment.

My 'Why'.....

My 'Why'.....

Why?  I am sure if you were to ask my parents, they would tell you that this is the first word that I ever said.  It is certainly the most common word that comes to mind, and out of my mouth on any given day.  It has been this way for as long as I can remember and it continues to fuel my searching to understand the world in which I live.  Simon Sinek has become famous for looking at this, and lately I have found myself delving ever deeper into this fundamental question of ‘Why?’

Organizing help out of my life…..

Organizing help out of my life…..

I did not need help.  I could do it myself.  I never asked, and anyone who worked with me for any length of time quickly understood that they did not need to ask either.  This was my modus operandi. This was how I unconsciously organized my life, and it was no more in my conscious awareness than the steps needed to ride a bike, or tie my shoes, chew gum while walking, it just happened in the background all day long, completely unknown to me for many, many years.

The barrier.....

The barrier.....

It was an ordinary evening, we had enjoyed a lovely supper, and were engaged in the after-dinner discussion of the day.  There was nothing to foreshadow the bomb that was coming my way… ‘you know’ said Nancy, ‘you left Texas to come someplace new…. And to do something different than you were doing in Texas… but it looks to me like you have recreated that life on PEI….’ She was right, and it had not even taken two years.  I had come with the dream of finally setting boundaries between my work and the rest of my life, and finding balance between the two.  I had walked away from the busy academic career to restart my medical practice and ‘get it right’ this time.  But here I was, once again doing what I had always done…. Filling my life so completely that there was no room for all of it and certainly no room for anything else, medicine had once again taken over.

Being seen...

Being seen...

What a gift it is to be seen, really seen, in a way that nourishes you deeply.  It is a gift that everyone desires, but funny enough, we never seem to put it on the list for Christmas. It is something that we want so deeply that we may not even be aware of our longing until it is met, and then, in a rush of deep appreciation we feel what has been missing for so long that we forgot it had been lost.

The art of noticing.....

The art of noticing.....

And there it is a gain, that feeling like something is happening that is somehow just outside my field of vision, just outside of me perception.  That little nagging feeling that there is something here that I should notice, give my attention to, but it refuses to come into focus.  I might notice a little something in my jaw, a little feeling of tightness, my tell-tale sign that there is something afoot, but what is it.