patients teaching me patience

i've been learning to have more patience with myself. i feel like i expect so much out of myself. out of life. i have this anxious urgency that i will not be able to actualize my potential (and save the world) because of the uncertainty of life. how can i be so sure i'll be here tomorrow. or the next day? i feel like i'm gripping onto the present...clawing at it to not let go. i'm scared to fall into the unknown. i'm here now. this is what i know. this is where happiness is possible. maybe i've just fixated on it as a goal. like one of these days, I WILL BE HAPPY! maybe i need to accept all of it as part of life and not focus on the positive. it is all me.

i learn so much from my patients. they teach me how to appreciate my life...all that i have. i've had moments with some which seem to withstand time. as i think of them, they flicker like movie stills depicting love and understanding...a pale, elderly latina woman with gray hair down her back reaching up to hold my face and tell me how beautiful i was as i was doing hourly rounds...a demented african american woman asking me to sit next to her as the sun rose and she earnestly explained how she wanted "so much for me"...a WWII veteran who looked me in my eyes and said thank you as i reminded him he was here now and we were here to take care of him.

i've had so many amazing experiences. when a person's health is on the line...their fears are exposed and everything comes to the surface. the least i can do is simply be there and listen to them while they're going through it all.

life is so peculiar. and fascinating at the same time

something learned: funerals use to be held in people's homes up until the 1950s. living rooms use to be known as parlors. death moved outside the house with the rise of the hospital.

something different: i am feeling overwhelmed with work, trying to find time to volunteer, be artistic, manage my finances, spend time with friends...i feel like i'm going to explode if i don't do something soon. my heart is telling me to move back to california.

something grateful: i'm thankful for the opportunity to spend this time on my own. i was looking at my maryland license the other day and noticed the crab. i'm a cancer. i've come to a state where i can crawl into my shell (ha!)