Thursday, August 21, 2014

People never get the flowers while they can still smell 'em

I'm writing this down before I forget or lose the feeling to sleep or the slice of cake or two glasses of half a bottle of champagne I consumed during the night. I turned 26 about 11 hours ago, and thus far, the day has proceeded better than many birthdays I can think of. A lot of I-me-my-mines were uttered on those other birthdays. A lot of self-absorption, rather than self-reflection, took place. Now, of all days that one can be self-conscious or conceited, I suppose the birthday is the most appropriate. But, this morning, a feeling was put on my spirit to say "Thank you" not reactively for birthday wishes I received, but preemptively, because of the year I've had. The years* I've had, until now, have contained disappointment, anxiety, confusion, curiosity, wonder, pain, joy, happiness, love, romance, and heartbreak. As I mentioned to a friend on the phone this afternoon, I usually took my birthday as the day to reflect on all that I've been through, but I would get stuck on where I should be or why I wasn't feeling satisfied.

This birthday was different. The experiences in my 26 years remain the same, but I looked at them through a new lens this time. I experienced today, and lately have been experiencing days, that felt...in their proper place. Today, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be, felt like I was learning and growing and meeting and absorbing all the experiences I was supposed to, and the people I was meant to meet...it all felt like, on this birthday, I finally had "arrived." No, I haven't made it to the pinnacle of success or to the peak of my career or social life. I'd arrived, in my spirit, in my heart, in a place of acceptance, and peace and ease. I accepted what happened and what I received with reckless abandon, and without regard for how big or shiny or meaningful or long or short or clever it was. I hosted a game night and invited my classmates (at this point, still acquaintances/new friends/budding relationships) and they showed up and I was genuinely moved and appreciative that people took time out of their day to come celebrate me. But it wasn't about me, it was about what we were building and how everyone felt being a part of that experience. I was honored to be a part of it, not to be the cause for it.

I'm having lots of feelings, thoughts and reflections on this birthday. It's usually a time of deep thought and taking account of where I am and where I need to get to next. But, this year felt different. I'm quite content with living in the moment, each moment, and being grateful for all the confusing or heartbreaking or joyful or unexpected moments that culminated on this second...and this one. It all adds up to 26 years of friends, family and even new classmates who are still getting to know me taking time out of their lives and studying to come to game night. I'm in a good place right now- grateful for the blessings and the sorrows I've experienced. God's timing and execution of His plan don't always line up with the timing you want. I know they haven't for me. But, it took accepting his divine knowledge rather than fighting it to reach this place of peace. I've prayed for it a long time, but I didn't realize that prayer had been answered until today when my friend Arthur asked me if I made any birthday resolutions. I didn't have any because the ones I made last year have already manifested. I've let go of the anxiety, trying to direct every next step. I'm working on praying more and exercising (probably lifelong goals, right?)

So, I'm here, without fear, get used to it. Thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday, who showed up to my party/game night. Thank you for cooking me breakfast (AGIII) bringing me cake (Lizzie) and wine and champagne (everyone) and buying me dinner (M. Greezy and Guild) and baking me cookies (Melissa/Katie S.). Thanks to everyone for the instagrams and Facebooks. I'm sure it's really millennial of me to say this, but I acknowledge there are people out there who don't have someone to post a picture of them on their birthday. Or even if they do, some folks don't have or take the time to do so. I thank God for each and every one of you who did that, or who hugged me or thought of me today or any day. I hope I've made you feel special or will make you feel special sometime in the year. It seems like birthdays are about taking account of not only how old you've gotten and what you've experienced, but counting each person who's influenced you and guided you on your way to that place. 26 is going to be a year of prayer, focus, tenacity and teamwork. If today's any indication of what my year 27 reflection will look like, we're gonna need some more champagne.

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Being Joyful

This morning as I got ready for church, I turned on Super Soul Sunday as background noise. I watched parts of the interview as I made oatmeal and picked out a dress. Part of the episode featured a cancer survivor, now well-past the ten-year time limit her doctors spoke on her life when she was diagnosed with "cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer"  all throughout her liver. She said she often thinks back on how many days she wasted awaiting joy. "When I get better..." or "when my cancer goes away,..." she thought, "then I'll have joy."

This sentiment of finding joy in the moment, not waiting for happenings to be happy, is one that was echoed in the sermon a few hours later. As I sat next to a new classmate, I listened to the scripture read that asks us to think about where we were when we were saved. As we often call out in church, I'm not where I'm going to be, but thank God I'm not where I used to be. I feel this sentiment not only about the mistakes I've made, or the words and arrows I've shot that I wish I could take back. I also think about the sense of peace and acceptance I've reached, knowing I came a long way from the frenetic, anxious, unconfident teenager and college student I was only a few short years ago.

I started medical school last week. Though my first day of medical school class was something I thought i'd have experienced at age 21, something I wished for endlessly, as I jotted down "26th birthday!" on my calendar this morning before I left for church, I realized that it's at this age, at this level of maturity that God knew I'd be able to handle that first day of class and the 4 years of classes ahead of me. I have a sense of peace that I am exactly where I'm meant to be, because I am living with joy, rather than waiting for happiness. This is something I struggled with only a few years ago, because I kept waiting on what I wanted to happen, to happen. "When I get into UNC...", "when I start medical school..." i thought, "then i'll have joy."

But joy comes in the morning, does it not? Usuaully right after your darkest hour when you're forced to either fold, or have faith. Joy comes when you get yet another rejection letter, but you somehow find the willingness to re-apply. Joy comes when you're supplied with every tool and all the time you needed to study for the MCAT, even though that means moving home and being unemployed to do so. Joy is being willing to accept that you can ask for what you want, and then be faithful that God will provide what you need. I admit I was frustrated and angry that I had rejoiced in the Lord and he did not give me the desires of my heart. But, my problem was that I had done my rejoicing all wrong. I had expected it to be an even exchange, and rather than finding joy, I was seeking a specific blessing. We can know where we want to go, but the Lord has to direct our steps to get there. Being comfortable walking blindly in the path he lays out for us, and accepting that you will be placed where you need to be, that's joy.

I won't be foolish enough to think that I won't face more moments of living outside of my joy. I won't say that I will always be this confident in my abilities to succeed here, that I won't wish school were easier or that I won't wonder how I'll make it through. However, I will try my best to at least remember that I am where I am supposed to be. In those moments of doubt, I will remind myself that, I got not only what I asked for but what is best for me, because it was given to me on God's time and for a purpose greater than graduation. My purpose here is to live out the calling on my life- a medical degree is a means to an end. That end is to glorify God.

Sunday, May 18, 2014

The countdown's almost over, and I didn't record a single thing.

This is both a love letter to my new favorite band (even though, I don't think I had an old favorite) and also a letter to myself about ten years from now.  This is the letter that Celeste A. _____, MD (not that I'm hoping for a new last name but, anything could happen) will need to read after performing her umpteenth baby delivery or physical exam or appendectomy. When she's feeling consumed by the pagers and pages of that essay she owes the New Yorker which won't write themselves. 

There was a point in time, not too long ago, mind you, that the lyrics with which your younger self could most closely relate were "after 25 years I should be good at something/gone are the days of me being so innocent." The words were sung by Rachael Price, lead singer of your then-favorite band, Lake Street Dive. You ranked the album those lyrics came from, Bad Self Portraits, as number three of your instant classics. Ranked only behind The College Dropout and Section 80, Bad Self Portraits was the soundtrack to your final six months before starting medical school. You didn't feel quite like you were an expert at anything by age 25, but I think you were pretty good at living in the moment and trying to find the lesson in those moments, instead of lamenting. That's good at something. Don't lose that. Or, if you've lost it, remember you had it once. 


When you're feeling like you can't figure out the latest problem life's thrown at you, Celeste _____, MD, remember you spent a year and a half without a microwave. When you're feeling monotonous, remember you learned to cook and enjoy shrimp. When you're craving romance, remember you went on dates with nice guys and gentlemen, and when you're feeling impatient remember you also went on a date with a guy who thought a fun Saturday morning date meant having you run a mile while strapped to a tractor tire. All of these things and more were things you experienced living in Washington, DC. In 18 short months, you went from a four-time MCAT taker and wet-behind-the-ears employee to a confident Metrobus rider and published writer. You didn't wait for some magazine or Instagram likes or  award ceremony to feel validated in your lived life. You jumped into experiences feet first, so you could stand self-assured and be self-supportive. 


You got into the school of your dreams. You, whom life usually surprises and brings unexpected turns, you prayed and prayed for something and three years later, God saw fit to place you at the very same school you prayed to go to. So don't ever think that you know best; just remember that if you pray hard enough and fail (and try again) enough at something, you might get exactly what you want, but only after God teaches you what you'll need to excel there.


If you haven't yet reached your dreams, Celeste _____, MD, if you haven't yet started your nonprofit or become a contributing writer for a major magazine like Atul Gawande, or if you are having issues with family or you hate your haircut or life feels THIS BIG and you're just lost in it, remember that you wrote this on a bus. You wrote this on a flash-flood-warning-rainstorming Friday while riding on the L2. You were late-ish to work. But, you were on your way. And you still are.