Passion…unbridled

How would my last day at work be?

I hope it would be the culmination of a career satisfactory

Of one of the most storied chapters of my life, it would signal the end

I hope the day does not come sooner than I intend..

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I hope my professional life is not derailed

By deteriorating health, I hope I don’t fail

To accomplish my goals because of physical limitations

I hope my last work day is not in such a situation

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Sometimes burnout imminent appears

And being forced to leave my profession prematurely I fear

But when things are going right, I have no desire to leave

My last day at work would be one of contentment, I believe

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My work is such an integral part of me

Without it I would lose my identity

I hope in my professional life the last day

Is currently decades away

All the unused objects cluttering my space

Are unfinished stories that I’m afraid to face

Unrealized potential, abandoned possibilities

A life that could have been, the “what-ifs” that never cease

The camera for the photographs that could have been clicked

The flamboyant dress that could have been for an award ceremony picked

The books that could have been on a sabbatical read

The art supplies that could to a new hobby have led

All languish in various corners, forgotten over the years

Hiding disappointments, broken dreams and fears

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I pick up each object, and jog my memory

To come up with its incomplete history

Whether its story merits completion is a decision I have to make

If so, I keep it, if not, a place it takes

In the decluttering pile, where its story ends for me

Leaving both my space and my mind a bit more free

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As I declutter my place, I close the door

On unfinished stories, making space for more

This is a dilemma as a physician I face

Should I be accessible irrespective of time and place?

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Each time someone has a non-urgent question and I am not on call

Should they have access to my opinion at all?

Should the precious moments with my family be repeatedly sacrificed?

Is that, for being a physician, a fair price?

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The moral aspect of this question

Becomes crucial to making my decision

Someone is suffering and helpful I can be

Therefore I end up sacrificing my time free

To give my professional opinion when I am not required to

It still seems the right thing to do

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The trouble is where to draw the line

A few moments of my time seems fine

But when it turns into an impromptu consultation

Lasting a while, it is a cause for consternation

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The more I acquiesce the more I see

My boundaries being pushed frequently

It is a slippery slope from there

Free advice takes up a lot of my time spare

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Therefore I think boundaries should be clear

And to those boundaries both parties should adhere

I should not make myself available when I don’t need to be

Towards myself and my family I should fulfill my responsibility

Each time dissatisfaction with my child I express

I get extremely worried, I confess

Were the words I uttered in an annoyed state

More damaging than I could estimate

Was I scarring my child for life, was I lowering his self-esteem

Was I alienating him from myself, overbearing to him did I seem?

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I read about childhood trauma causing scars permanent

And wonder if I have traumatized my child and to what extent

I beg a higher power for forgiveness, and yet I don’t know

How to not let my rather scathing criticism show

I try to remind myself not to expect my son

To fulfill my overt and covert expectations

But the perfectionist streak that runs through me

Makes me parent him more harshly

I wish I could stop each time I begin to criticize

But when I am upset, this is not something I realize

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I want, like all mothers, for my son to grow

Into a confident individual who knows

His self-worth, someone who is not held back

By self-doubt, someone who initiative does not lack

Someone who is ready to go out and claim

The world as his oyster, to make for himself a name

And I sincerely hope I do not a hindrance present

To his growth and his holistic development

I saw an advertisement that proclaimed

“Disappear for a month and your life reclaim”

It was supposed to be for burnout a plan of action

When I saw it, my very first reaction

Was that the universe was calling out to me

For impending burnout that was what I needed exactly

To retreat from daily life for a month and embark

On a journey for soul-searching, to reignite my spark..

The clickbait was definitely designed for someone like me

Searching for a solution to prevent burnout desperately

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If it were that simple perhaps most organizations

Would grant their employees a month-long vacation

Assuming that they would emerge completely cured

From burnout and be ready to take on more..

Disappearing for a month to practice new strategies for burnout

Is attractive in principle without a doubt

But would those strategies work when you came back

Would you be able to apply in your old life new hacks?

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A period of rest helps, but does not eliminate

The factors that led to burnout, so unless you could start with a clean slate

Running away for a month just to return to the old place

Would be unlikely to make it any easier to face

The same old issues, therefore in the trenches I remain

Trying to make changes that can be sustained

Such that the threat of burnout gradually decreases

And my professional satisfaction increases

Entitlement as a negative trait is viewed

But people with a sense of entitlement exude

Quiet confidence that tends to open doors

Without the need to ask for more

They appear comfortable in their skin

And that allows them to score more wins

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Conversely people who do not possess

A sense of entitlement view the path to success

As being full of struggle, they do not appear

As confident, their demeanor underscores their fear

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I feel entitled at times because of my educational qualifications

I conduct myself with confidence and sophistication

I know doors open because I assume it’s my right

Between confidence and arrogance I walk a rope tight

Perhaps AI can craft a poem better than a person

Because it can rehash thousands of poems to create a version

That is perfect in rhyme, meter, syntax and form

That to every rule of writing poetry can conform

But when a human poet writes a poem he involves in the process

His thoughts and emotions, which AI does not possess

If the poet’s impression a poem does nor convey

Then is the poem even worth writing anyway?

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If poetry can be written without a soul

How can the beauty of poetry be extolled?

Who benefits from reading a verse composed

By AI, who needs of counterfeit medicine a dose?

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If poems are worth reading, I strongly believe

They should be written by people who can conceive

Of ideas based on their feelings intimate

Not by AI that can large volumes of data collate

What would a life synchronized with my hormones look like?

If I could harness the estrogen spike

Push myself further, try to achieve more

At the peak of my energy, some wins score

Go out in the world with confidence

Engage in physical activity intense

Then start slowing down, to focus on self-care

In the second half of the month, prepare

For physical discomfort and imminent mood swings

That the second half of the month brings

Spend time in quiet self-reflection, amble at a slower pace

For the discomfort about to come, myself brace

Devote the worst part of the month to much-needed rest

So that with the hormonal upswing, I am ready to give it my best..

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Alas, the work landscape was by men designed

No one had women’s physiology in mind

So women try to ignore their hormonal waves

And put up a front that is brave

Despite this, I’ve realized that if I live

In synchrony with my hormones, I can be more productive

So wherever I can, I have decided to follow

My cyclic hormonal ebb and flow

She made my day when I walked in to her room

Her face lit up, the veil of gloom

That hung over her face seemed to lift

Her beatific smile I accepted as my gift

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Under the treatment prescribed by me

She was improving, albeit slowly

To a hospital bed for weeks she had been confined

Never once had she complained or whined

But she had around her an aura of sadness

That was disappointing to me, I confess

Until today, when her face brightened at my sight

Things were finally headed in a direction that was right

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She smiled and told me she felt really good

And that made me happier than I thought it could

Her face lit up, and brightened my day

With a renewed sense of purpose I went on my way

I love words, in what they can convey

I like using a variety of words to say

What I want to, therefore my efforts to increase

The breadth of my vocabulary never cease..

But unfortunately my shrinking brain cells

No longer in learning new words serve me well

To expand my vocabulary is a battle uphill

My word-specific memory has many gaps to fill

The tongue-twister names of new medications I have to memorize

And that limits my ability to learn other words, I’ve realized

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New words that manage to stick in my mind

Are those that leave an impression- I find

That random words plucked out of a dictionary

Are unlikely to have a lasting place in my memory

Whereas words that come with interesting associations

Get lodged in my brain at a permanent station

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I find joy in discovering words previously unknown to me

When I read, clever placement of words I tend to see

Languages are rich, may I continue

To learn words that to me sound new

As a child I was encouraged to pursue academic excellence with a one-track mind

That was the foundation on which my future would be designed

So that was what I did, never allowing my creative side to bloom

On the rigorous path of academic success there was no room

To while away precious time in artwork, creative writing or dance

I internalized that creative pursuits could not help me advance

In my career or life (the two were for all intents and purposes the same)

I ended up with a coveted career, so the strategy I cannot blame

Through all the years of studying and working hard, there was one regret

To flex my creative skills, enough time I did not get

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In my middle age, when my career had reached a plateau

I realized it was about time to let my creative juices flow

Thus began my journey into amateur writing and art

My career stokes my intellect, creative expression soothes my heart

The elusive balance in life seems easier to achieve

Both art and science need a place in my life, I’ve come to believe

You think you are not creative, but that is not true

Let me break down the creative process for you..

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Take a leaf out of your own book

Through your lived experiences look

For a way to distill a voice that is distinct

A voice that is composed of your own instinct

Not the one that has been planted by others in your head

But the one you have nurtured in solitude instead..

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Unleash your creativity once your authentic voice you find

Bring into the world ideas that germinate in your mind

Create something exquisite for everyone to see

Through your preferred medium express yourself freely

Connect with the world, and heal from inside

When you cultivate your creative side

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Through your creative expression, inspire

Others to express their hidden desires

Let your creativity spur others to be creative too

Paying it forward is the most joyful thing to do

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Bring into the world something new

A creative masterpiece that is unique to you!