I react.
It is that simple. To tell myself otherwise is to delude myself. And lately, I have been reacting too much.
There is an eternal push-pull between doctors and hospital administration. A moment on social media will make that abundantly clear. And I live it. Regularly.
It seems that—every few months—something will come up with the way healthcare is managed that drives me crazy. And suddenly I find myself paying a lot more attention to the daily emails and texts regarding new job opportunities.
And then.
A good friend—who also happens to be my clinic manager—asked me how I was doing. A simple question. One that made me think.
And with that, a realization came: I was getting ready to give up an incredible practice situation—four providers who work together, closely and collaboratively, who respect each other, and are all good friends—because of occasional annoyances.
Ready to give up on something I live with every day, that positively impacts my life all the time, because of something that is a thorn in my side every once in a while.
And I began to wonder how often we all do the same.
Life will always throw things at us. Things we don’t like, that make us uncomfortable, that anger or frustrate us. In the moment, we react. And with that reaction, the issues grow, taking on epic proportions and crowding out reality.
And they overshadow the quiet, real good that is in our lives.
From an evolutionary standpoint, it makes sense. We needed to be ready to react (or even overreact) when a threat suddenly appeared. That which was an anomaly was most likely dangerous and wanted to eat our face.
But that isn’t the case anymore. We rarely are in that type of danger. But our body’s chemistry can’t tell the difference between an email to meet with our supervisor and a predator that wants us for dinner.
So, the anomalies trigger that same dump of chemicals that prime us to fight or flee. All to keep us safe.
This was helpful. Was.
When reality was different.
And while we still need that fight-or-flight response sometimes, it is the exception, not the rule.
What that response does, however, is prime us to react. We overvalue the occasional stresses in our lives and give them far more attention than they deserve. We react, often irrationally.
You don’t have to look hard or far to see this is true. People, including leaders who should be rational and in control, are instead reacting constantly, only focusing on the moment. No thought given to the future or the effects of their irrational choices and actions.
We see it in our own lives as well. It is so tempting to catastrophize the missed workout, ignoring the many days of consistent work that preceded it. We willingly self-flagellate over the piece of cake, choosing to forget the days of consistent healthy choices that make up our reality.
We forget that consistency is what compounds, rather than occasional brilliance or missteps.
And that is precisely what I had forgotten myself. I had lost sight of what mattered for what was noisy.
Not every irritation is trivial. Sometimes, those irritations are warning signs. Things we need to pay attention to.
Most of the time, however, it is just noise. And it is left to us to distinguish.
I’ve been working out how to do just that. While I am far from an expert, I have found a few things that make a difference: a personal practice of honest reflection and cultivating a few strong relationships with whom I can counsel.
It sounds simple, but it has worked for me. Often the most effective solutions are the least complex.
I’ve talked before about my relationship with journaling. And while I take unplanned breaks from it at times, whenever I come back to it, I am reminded of its power. I find it to be especially useful for promoting introspection and reflection. I have made an effort to be honestly grateful, listing the small positives that make up my reality. Doing this—every day—keeps me grounded. The boring good in my life no longer fades from view.
The second—cultivating relationships—ends up being easier than we think it will be. We are social creatures. We need each other. There are people near us all who are ready, willing, and eager to listen and be listened to. And once we develop those relationships, our ability to open up and be vulnerable increases. We develop mutual trust and respect. It helps tether us to reality, distinguishing the noise from what really matters.
We will always have trials. It is part of life. Things will appear, distract us, and try to convince us they are more important than they actually are. We see these momentary problems as monumental threats.
We can fight that, though. By building a practice of reflection and honest conversation, we can stay connected to the aspects of our lives that matter but tend to be covered by the tsunami of distraction. Let us not sacrifice real value for surface value. Let us not run into the same trap I almost did: giving up what matters most for that which is just noisy.
