Friday, January 28, 2011

"Under the Sun"

I wrote this during my first year of med school and shared it at a informal talent show of sorts. That was about 6 and half years ago now. Time does fly doesn't it?

(BTW- the MSB is the Medical Sciences Building at the University of Cincinnati)


34 years young and I awake to find
Myself in medical school
An odd place in some ways so I must ask myself
How did I end up on this stool?

My story is long, I’m sure yours is too
So I’ll be brief for the sake of time
And give you the Reader’s Digest version of my journey
In the next verse of this rhyme

I saw my sister give birth and a lightbulb went on
And I thought about medicine as a career
I went back to school, took the MCAT
Applied and presto- I’m here

I study a lot, like everyone else
Sometimes 'til late at night
And I’m still not sure I know the greater splanchnic nerve
From a metamyelocyte

And while the science is fine, it’s not what I’m here to learn
Rather I trust that I’ll gradually see
That every person I meet and patient I’ll treat
Is really a reflection of me

Everyone is someone’s mother or father
Their uncle, their sister, their wife
And I want to learn to recognize all of my relations
In each and every life

Cause if you trace it back far enough
We all are made of stars
Not just the ones we call by name
But the men and women behind bars

The ones were taught to call our enemy
The ones we pass without a glance
I cannot waste one more day
I need to wake up from this trance

And smash this optical delusion
Called the terror of the separate self
That has me turn my back upon my brother
Like bookends on a shelf

Because there’s truly nothing to be afraid of-
We’re all perfect, whole and complete
But in this weary mortal coil
Many know nothing but defeat

As docs we may ask about a blackened eye
Only to have a woman reply “Oh, I tripped…”
And then we’ll be faced with a type of dis-ease
We can’t cure by writing a script

Cause when it’s the spirit that’s been infarcted
Or a soul that has been bruised
It’s not a liter of normal saline
But love that must be infused

And I may end up working on cancer
Or feeling for swollen glands
But whatever specialty I choose
I want to be proficient at holding hands

It’s been taught by Jesus, Gandhii and Buddha,
By Mohammed and Dr. King
They were all from different lands and times
But in agreement on one thing

That love- it is our birthright
And our inheritance is joy
I wish that I could alchemize self love from self hate
In every girl and boy

But I cannot give what I do not have
So I pledge to heal my own heart first
For it is only when I know that my cup truly runneth over
That I can quench another’s thirst

So I will begin by drawing one conscious breath today
And seeing how you’re just like me
Then I can add one more atom towards the critical mass
Of setting all souls free

I may not be awake every second of every day
But I can say this with certainty
Know that I love each and every one of you in my heart of hearts (even though I may not always show it)
when we pass in the MSB.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Peace

"If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility." Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

People still piss me off. Happens all the time. But when you think about it, the disagreeable traits that we all demonstrate at one time or another really arise from our suffering. Who among us hasn't been disappointed, hasn't had their heart broken, hasn't struggled with self criticism or lost someone close to them?

So the self righteous attending physician, the office big mouth, the lover who cheated on us or left, the sibling rival, the asshole who cuts us off in traffic- they're all suffering. Just like us.

Being a precious human being is difficult. We all just want to be happy.

In the moment, it can be hard to be generous. At least it is for me. If someone pushes me, my first instinct is usually to push back- twice as hard.

So what can we do?

Just be willing I guess. Be willing to allow peace to arise spontaneously within our own hearts. And be gentle with ourselves when it doesn't.

Gassho