Passion…unbridled

If you know me, you would also know

That for actual therapy I would never go

But my unresolved issues processing need

In some form I need (cheap) therapy indeed

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An avid reader I happen to be

Living my life through books vicariously

I get infatuated with or feel protective towards

Characters in books, I want to inhabit their worlds

Some characters have come close, I confess

To becoming my alter-egos, in my immersive reading process

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Therefore the concept of bibliotherapy

Was one that sounded quite appealing to me

If anyone including a therapist would recommend

Any book to me, my default intent

Would be to try to read it- therefore when I was “prescribed”

Books that would help me uncover and describe

My latent emotional state, I read through

All of them- reading is at the heart of what I do

To bring peace into my chaotic life anyway-

But reading a curated list was transformative, I must say

The books were carefully chosen for my unique situation

Some led to catharsis, others to self-examination

Some resonated loudly with my existing values

Others made me discard old beliefs and new ideas choose

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The idea of facing someone to provide therapy

Is somehow quite intimidating for me

Therapy packaged as a book, on the other hand

Is exactly what I need, the world around me I understand

Best by reading books of all genres voraciously

Therefore therapy I should seek in the form of bibliotherapy

Young achievers always get much applause

Precocity is always seen positively because

Those who achieve great things early seem destined

To have a great life ahead, their stars must be well aligned..

Children are encouraged to learn from and emulate

The youngsters whose achievements the society celebrates…

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It is good to shine early in life, obviously

But as we see steady increases in life expectancy

There are people trying new skills at their lives’ later stages

Excelling at activities considered suitable for younger ages

Recently discovered confidence they often exude

“Age is just a number” is both their mantra and attitude

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The older achievers likely have had more barriers to break

To get to their goals, may have had their reputations at stake

They are more likely to have had to face

Frank opposition, sarcasm, or ridicule in their place

Their achievements can be sources of inspiration

For those who feel they have lost motivation..

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As I pen these lines, my middle aged self would

Like to achieve something that my younger self wanted but never could…

Between what I really want and what I end up doing, there is disparity

It is time to try to dispel the fog of confusion and find some clarity

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Sometimes I feel I am just being tossed around

By my circumstances, unable to make decisions sound

I base my actions on whatever I have been told

I lack the audacity to go with my intuition in a manner bold

The end result is that I feel discontented

I do not achieve the outcomes intended

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I need to take a step back and define

What is it that one burning desire of mine

That I want to fulfill, the one that would make life meaningful for me

Naming that overarching desire would give some clarity

As the next step I would forge paths that lead me

Towards fulfillment of my desire, my purpose, perhaps my destiny

I can tell that increasing burnout I feel

But I have to tackle this alone, I cannot reveal

To anyone around me the degree to which I am affected

To some extent I wonder if this burnout is self-inflicted

By my being a perfectionist, by not walking away

From unpleasant situations or interactions on a given day

By not carving enough time to pursue other interests

By not giving my body and mind adequate rest..

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The burnout that I feel is fueled by

Loss of autonomy, the inability to question why

I have to check more corporate boxes than actual patients treat

Patient care is not a task I can automatically do on repeat

The fifteen minutes allotted for a patient encounter are not enough

To spend another fifteen minutes of personal time per patient is tough

So how do I get adequate rest, pursue other interests

When my free time in documentation I have to invest?

The mandatory training modules encroach on my day

From productive work, they take my time away

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But if I share this with anyone, most likely I would receive

A laundry list of things to do that are believed

To help with burnout- however such advice

Would likely make me feel that burnout is a vice

I am also afraid of being perceived as weak

Therefore advice from friends I try not to seek

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As I said, burnout is an issue that I have to face

All by myself, there is no safe space

To talk about it, it is a silent burden to bear

While I learn techniques for self-preservation and self-care

To practice a healthy lifestyle and my carbon footprint reduce

To support sustainability, goods and services consciously choose

To reduce and recycle, take time to find

Ethically sourced brands- I am inclined

To do all of this and more, I firmly believe

In being a responsible citizen, but to achieve

These lofty goals would need more time than I can spare

To research everything carefully, to make myself aware

To find reliable sources in order to understand

How to distinguish between regular and green brands

The fine print it is important to scrutinize

The “ethically sourced” product may not be as “ethical” as advertised

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When I first decided to change my pattern of consumption

To a more socially and environmentally conscious one

I tried to change everything all at once and thought

The transition would be an easy one, but it is not

What constitutes environment-friendly and ethically sourced

Often lies in the gray zone, but the product is costlier, of course

So trying to do it right means doing diligent research on my own

To go into the details of how something was manufactured or grown

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Now I make small changes in a manner stepwise

Trying to do the right thing does exact a price

In terms of actual dollars but investment of time too

Therefore I am still not living in the manner I would like to..

All sorts of ideas float in and out of my brain

Attempts to store them in my hippocampus go in vain

I try to retrieve them when I am ready to write

But end up staring at a blank page, waiting for an idea bright

To expound upon in my authentic style

Often the Goddess of luck refuses to smile

Down on me, and I end up with poorly written stuff

Incomplete lines, verses not structured enough

Because the stash of ideas that was waiting to be explored

Seems irrevocably lost, not accessible to me anymore

I try to come up with something on the spot

But forcing myself to get inspired, easy is not

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The numero uno tip for an aspiring writer that I like

Is to jot down ideas in a notebook when inspiration strikes

Theoretically it is sound advice but practically

I get ideas mostly when I am not free

To pen them down, so I try to tuck them away

In my memory increasingly unreliable these days..

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I think I need to find the right way to harness

Technology in optimizing my creative process

And use my ubiquitous smartphone to keep track

Of ideas as they surface, so inspiration I never lack

Sometimes your current situation

Appears unbearable, your inclination

Is to try to run away and never come back

Your are driven by emotions, clarity you lack

To look for options that might work best

You want to run away and then figure out the rest..

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You feel so miserable where you are right now

That the grass everywhere seems greener somehow

Opportunities that you had not considered suitable before

Now you are more than eager to explore

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The first opportunity you see, you embrace

It allows you to run away from your current place

It takes a while before you can tell

From the frying pan into the fire you fell

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Your current situation is less than perfect

But carefully evaluate your priorities before you accept

A new position, ultimately you want to run

Towards a place you want, not just away from one

I write quite prolifically in verse

But I don’t know why I am averse

To write in a style that is abstruse

Why do I find it so difficult to choose

Language that is more figurative, more obscure

Why can I not deeper meaning ensure

Behind each verse that I compose

My verses appear similar to prose..

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I sincerely wish I could incorporate

Vivid imagery and metaphors to elevate

My verses so that my writing could be

A step closer to being called poetry

But I end up calling a spade a spade

From poetic elements distant I have stayed

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I pour my heart into my words

I too have a desire to be heard

My verses are too simplistic to be

Called poetry unfortunately

Instead I say that my verses elevate

Prose to a more exalted state

To promise less and deliver more

Is what I believed had be at the core

Of what I did because I was extremely averse

To disappointing anyone, or worse

Falling short of someone’s expectation

Where I had received a strong recommendation

I would start by stating goals modest

And then give each project my best

So it seemed I had achieved at the end

A target much higher than I did intend

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I was selling myself short, this I did not realize

Until much later, when it took me by surprise

Because of my modest goals I was perceived

As being less ambitious, it was believed

That thinking “big” was not my cup of tea

I had set limits on what was expected from me!

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I am learning to promise as much as I think I can achieve

And then deliver a bit more, I just have to believe

In my abilities, and not operate with the constant fear

Of letting people down, or having their support disappear

There was advice always being given to me

Making independent decisions sound was not considered to be

Something I could do- I was naïve and inexperienced

Prone to impulsivity, idealism and emotions intense

I was told many times in a tone of mild condescension

That I should listen to those older and wiser, they had good intentions

They wanted to help me make choices right-

Mostly I ended up acquiescing, I did not put up a fight

Because much of the advice I received was geared

Towards following the safest path, it appeared

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I am squarely middle-aged, and I still get unsolicited advice

From people in positions of power, who consider themselves more wise

While most advice I receive appears sensible at first glance

The aim seems to discourage me from trying to advance

In my career, on the same rung of the ladder stay

Despite knowing better, I often follow such advice anyway..

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Often sensible advice does not align

With the instincts of my heart and mind

My intuition tells me that I should take

More risks, but I hold back because I don’t want to make

My “advisors” angry or say “I told you so”

If things according to my plan fail to go

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Who am I afraid of and why

It is about time that I begin to rely

On my gut instinct and what it tells me to do

No one else I have to be answerable to

If I keep listening to “sensible” advice

Through stagnation I would be paying the price..

He had an air of intellectual superiority, a charm irresistible

To which she was drawn in a manner inexplicable

Once she was in a relationship with him they appeared

To be one and the same, you would never hear

Either one of them saying what the other did not endorse

People admired their relationship, but were unaware of course

That he controlled the narrative completely

To say what she wanted, she was not free

She who used to express her ideas without hesitation

Now spoke a scripted language, there was complete abnegation

Of her thoughts, although she gave the impression

That the ideas were her own, so convincing was her expression

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As a young professional she joined a company

With an excellent reputation, her boss was thought to be

A prominent leader in the industry, she thought she could grow

Under his mentorship, but little did she know

That all the great things she had heard about this place

Came from a warped narrative of hyperbolic praise

Generated by her boss, anything that deviated from this narrative

Was basically impermissible, she had to speak in the superlative

When talking about her company, she had no right

To bring up any issue that showed the organization in a poor light

She felt trapped, but knew if she resigned

Shunned by other employers she could herself find

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In a society with freedom of expression we live

Yet there are many who try to control the narrative

When they hold power over you, each word you say

Has to support their narrative in some way

The world is oblivious, you suffer inside

This becomes a shameful secret to hide

It is not easy to break free when you’ve lost your voice

You need to rediscover it to make the right choice…

Why do I scroll down in a manner compulsive

To see all the comments on a post provocative

The subject of the post leaves me riled

I feel my pulse quickening, sense the rise of bile

I am angry, strong feelings the post has instigated

I scan others’ responses to see if my indignation is validated

By others who are feel as outraged as I do

In morbid fascination, every comment I read through

And comment on some of them, expressing my perspective

Blowing off steam in this way a weird satisfaction does give…

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Later, when I am calm, my behavior I contemplate

By now, my anger has had a chance to abate

I wonder why I got so caught up in a forum online

That to have a heated discussion with strangers I was inclined

Maybe the post was written with incendiary intention

To provoke polarized groups into further division

Like me, many others probably found themselves glued

To the screen, thus more views the poster accrued

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Be careful of what you read, be mindful when you scroll

You do not want to join the ranks of an online troll-

A reminder and a warning to myself this should be

Not to get caught up in posts that make me angry