Courage
by Korean poet Lee Kyu-gyeong
You can certainly do it.
That’s what people said.
You must work up your courage.
That’s what people said.So I did.
I worked up my courage.I worked up my courage and I said:
I can’t do it.
From the article By Haemin Sunim The Courage to Say I Can’t - It’s never too late to change your path - from the Spring 2024 Tricycle Magazine
This post on pausing to re-evaluate what you are doing, especially when what you are doing doesn’t feel right anymore, was actually started last fall. While that post was originally discussed the moral injury we face in the practice of medicine and the need to pause to reflect and talk about how that injury may be affecting our personal choices in medicine and life, it was upended by a much deeper reflection that was ahead for me.
While I use my personal example of loss to discuss my pause for noticing what I needed to (NOT) do, in speaking to others I realize that first, such a deep event is not necessary to take this important pause; and second, it is as important to openly talk about how a pause can be as important a moment to decide what NOT to do as it is to make the often more exciting and more society accepted decision to do (more).
So as background: after a long hiatus which involved caring for and the eventual loss of my beloved mother in early January 2024, I went into what can only be described as a haze. In speaking to others who have experienced similar loss, this haze is often a physical, mental and spiritual withdrawal to figure out your new place in the world without a loved one who has been a constant. It required me to say I can’t work and to take a leave of absence - my first one since starting in medicine nearly 25 years ago.
While this was the physical pause from work, there was also the mental and spiritual pauses that were necessary. Withdrawing from the usual mental routine for several weeks was a wake up. Even when away from clinic, during this pause I more fully became aware of a subtle swirling in the back of my mind: thinking about patients, thinking about their labs, waking up with thoughts of a new treatment or approach that might be just right for them and wanting to jump back in... It was a “work noise” that with time and knowing I had kind colleagues taking good care of my patients, that I was able to let go of and say I can’t do it this AND attend to the important work of grieving.
Spiritually, it was also a pause. While I would love to say I did Tai Chi and mindfulness meditation every day to lessen the grief while on leave, the truth is that it did not feel right. I had to say again I can’t do it in order to make room for what felt needed. In this case it was diving into Permission to Mourn - A New Way to Do Grief by Tom Zuba. This book was recommended after the loss of my father a few years ago. It was impactful and I purchased it for a number of friends who had also lost loved ones. But I have to admit that I did not pause enough after this first loss and did not ask myself what I needed to let go of to make room for it. In essence, as we often do in medicine and life, I pivoted with my eyes and hands but kept my heart and head in the routine to keep busy and help brace the loss.
This time around, I had the space after I mentally and physically “quit” the routine to be able to pivot fully spiritually and gained more from the book and other readings and spiritual interactions than I thought possible.
Part of the not doing was Substack writing. The thought of telling others how to pause did not feel genuine at first, especially as I was learning to pause in deeper ways than I thought possible. And slowly as the work noise quieted and the grief became a bit less unbearable it seemed once again ok to slowly consider the “doing" - the Tai Chi, the meditation, the writing, even some aspects of the work of medicine seemed both necessary and nurturing. In some ways pausing to say I can’t do it was the most powerful step in knowing what I could and wanted to do again.
While I have restarted a number of my usual routines, it has also been incredibly satisfying to let others go permanently (or at least for the time being). There have been committees, conferences, zoom meetings and calls which did not rise to the surface as things that were necessary or nurturing. I would not say they were easy to let go of as we live in a society and profession that says “Yes” first and asks deep questions later. But that deep question posed during this long pause which asked over and over again is this necessary or nurturing? allowed me over time to find the separation that is often difficult during our go-go-go routines.
One of the things that helped me return to writing in general and this post specifically was a great article by the Zen Priest, professor and writer Haemin Sunim. In his recent article in the Tricycle Magazine he discusses the strength needed to NOT do. He recalls coming to the US from South Korea to earn his PhD and become a professor. During his brief teaching career he realizes that this life was far removed from what was he thought was necessary and nurturing for his soul. He had the courage to say I can’t do this and returned to his home to start the nonprofit School for Broken Hearts which provides group counseling and meditation for people experiencing challenges in life.
In concluding this post on Pausing to Notice (what NOT to do) I leave you with the beginning of Sunim’s advice on using this sacred Pause or calmness
A Monk’s Guide to Rethinking Your Life:
When your mind has become calm, use the power of that calmness to examine whether you really must continue what you are doing, which way is the right direction for you, and what it is that you really want from this life. The wisdom in that calmness will give you the answers.
From the article By Haemin Sunim The Courage to Say I Can’t - It’s never too late to change your path - from the Spring 2024 Tricycle Magazine
The question I have for you when you are able to take a Pause, when your mind is less noisy and becomes a bit more calm, is:
If you had the courage, what in your life would you say I Can’t Do it about?
As you ponder this over the next few days or weeks, there will be many things that surface which may be possibilities. I ask you to sit with them in the calmness and further ask yourself if they are necessary or nurturing. I hope as you experience this pause that each moment builds that courage and allows doubts, shoulds and ought-tos to soften so that it is no longer a matter of if you have courage but, as in the poem, when…
So I did.
I worked up my courage.I worked up my courage and I said:
I can’t do it.
I wish you much strength with this Pause as it is often harder, but more profoundly liberating, to say NO, I can’t, than continuing doing. In the meanwhile, I look forward to your shares and comments on courageous moments when you paused to say I can’t or areas you are pondering to build the courage to do so.
Until we meet again, May you find Pause in your day, RB 🙏
thanks for the article
Made me think back to my days in India where 99% of our meals were home made, each meal was preceded by a prayer - which essentially meant [apart from thanking the one above for the meal] but also that may this meal bring out good thoughts in us, may we [people eating together] do good deeds together, peace, peace, peace.
The conversation during the meals were thus somehow directed to something that was not controversial. We HAD to eat all that was on the plate, throwing away food was an insult to God.
Now - eating is done mostly alone while at work, with the computer open, not tasting any thing properly.
It is so easy to throw away food.
Your article made me realize how work / money has downgraded such an essential part of our life.
Pausing before eating -- the time we spent in prayer was akin to that- is what i want to restart, even if i am eating alone.
I think the major problem is how to occupy your mind when you are eating. Heartfelt interaction is so important but when one eats alone - one lands up either reading something or watching TV.
that is the challenge - how to get over it.