2019 - The Year of Breaking Open

I'm not big into dates, but for some reason I love the start of the new year.  Even though there's nothing magical about the transition from December 31 to January 1, it always gets me reflecting on the previous year and thinking ahead to the next.  When I re-read my New Year's post from this year, I had to laugh at my intention for 2019:

"And what for 2019?  Mostly, I want to keep going on the path that I'm already on.  I want to remain in the present moment, enjoying it when I can and learning from it when I can't."

Learning from it when I can't describes so much of the past year.  I existed in a state of near-constant stress for months, and then I basically fell apart when the chronic stress became too much.  For weeks, I wasn't certain if I would choose to (or even be able to) stay at work.  It was horrible.

Probably the wisest thing I did, and something that was only possible because of my mindfulness practice, was stay present in the tough moments.  My mantra through that time, which I would sometimes recite multiple times in a day, was "Be patient.  Be present."  I somehow knew that, if I could just show up for those moments, that I would learn something important from them.

And I have learned an incredible amount over the past year.  I've learned that I am limited in how much I can do well (as is everyone), and more importantly, I've learned that I have the support of my institution to set limits on my work.  I don't have to overbook all of my clinics.  I don't have to work through weekends most of the time.  I don't have to say yes to every administrative task that comes my way.  I can (and absolutely must) say no.

I've also learned that I am very hard working, even though I don't always feel that way when I compare myself to the overachievers who seem to be everywhere in medicine.  I regularly go beyond what I need to for my patients, and I show up for them even on the days when I would rather pull the covers over my head.  I'm committed to the work that I do, and I put in the effort needed to be a really good doctor.

Overall, as hard as a lot of the past year has been, I'm really proud of myself for getting through it.  And for not quitting my job!  Because it's generally a pretty good one, and I do a pretty good job at it, if I may say so myself.

How I Almost Moved Into a House But Didn't

A few weeks ago, I opened up Facebook while eating breakfast and saw an ad for the perfect house.  Only a few minutes from where I currently live and still in a neighbourhood that I love, the house was the ideal balance between "old enough to be charming" and "new enough to not have knob and tube wiring*".  And it was for rent, which is probably the only way I'm ever going to get into a house, as I'm utterly terrified of buying something.

It took me only a few minutes to email the person renting it, and I stopped by to see it on my way home from work that evening.  When I walked in, the house was toasty warm and beautifully decorated for Christmas, and my heart said a very loud yes.  This is my home.  I want to live here.

For the next four days, I lived and breathed that house.  I posted about it on Twitter and Facebook, I dreamed of all the things I could do in it (Butterfly garden!  Bat house!  Little Free Library!), and I started rescheduling my upcoming vacation to include packing up my apartment and moving into a house.  I was 100% mentally there.

And then...I went back.  I went to see it again with my Mom and to work out the practical details, and the reality of the house started to sink it.  Houses come with lawns to be mowed and driveways to be shoveled and windows (so many beautiful windows) to be washed.  And the $400 more per month in rent was only the beginning of the increased costs - I would have to add electricity and water and gas and a home alarm system and alllll the things I would want to buy with double the space that I currently have.  Yes, I could host games nights in a stylish historic living room warmed by a gas fireplace, but I would also have to get up early on snow days to dig my car out of the detached and unheated garage.

I went home that night, and I thought and thought and thought, trying to figure out what to do.  It wasn't a question of whether I could afford it - I save a high percentage of my income, so there is money in my budget to move into a much nicer home than where I'm living right now.  The question was, why did I want to move into a house?

The answer, for me, was social.  I wanted to host games nights for friends and have my aunt over for coffee and drop in informally on the friend who lives around the corner.  All really good things.  But...none of them dependent on being in a house.  Sure, my one-bedroom apartment is limited in its ability to host big gatherings, but I'm an introvert who actually doesn't really like being around large groups of people.  Two to six people is about ideal for me, and my dining room table can comfortably seat six.  The size of my apartment isn't really what limits me socially - it's time and energy, both of which I'd have less of in a house.

The financial side of it, even though I could afford it, was also a big issue.  The added costs would be approximately equal to one month a year of income - that's huge!  When I looked at it that way, and asked myself "Would I rather have that house or an extra month of vacation every year?", vacation won without a moment of hesitation**.

So....I still live in the apartment where I've lived for nine years.  And...I'm good with that.  Work is a 6-minute drive when there's no traffic (and under 30 in even the worst of rush hour traffic).  I can easily walk to fabulous restaurants and coffee shops.  And I have time and money and energy to do the thing that's most important to me:  connect.

*Technically renovated to not have knob and tube wiring...but still new enough to not be a nightmare of old home disasters.

**Not that I'm going to take an extra month of vacation, as my vacation time is already pretty ridiculously amazing, and I do need to earn money.