On the cusp of a new decade
In 2010, I was a year away from graduating high school, struggling to figure out where I fit into this world. I had an idea of the person I wanted to be, but constantly fell short of achieving what I thought I needed to become that person.
Then the past decade happened. I graduated twice, got my first nursing job, then another one, and started a Masters. I travelled extensively, and walked two Caminos by myself. I struggled and failed countless times. I tried some of the things I had always dreamed of doing when I was younger, and tackled some of the very things I was most afraid to do. On the way, I was blessed with so many people who called out the truth and goodness in me, even when I couldn’t see it, and especially when the truth was hard to hear.
Today, I came across something I had written to myself a few years ago, when I was younger and greener and just starting my career. It reminded me of that sense of struggle and wrestling with the ache of finding my mission in life.
Today, I know exactly who I am. I have found my tribe – countless people who challenge me, always have my back, and are endlessly cheering me on. And I may not know exactly what the path ahead looks like, but I am not the least bit afraid, because I know my purpose and who is leading me.
Hold. That’s my word of the new year, and I am still figuring out what it means. I think it’s a reminder that I am held and protected by the arms of the Father. It’s a reminder to pay attention to what has a hold on my heart. It’s a reminder to hold on in hope, but most of all, to hold and wait patiently to grow the seeds that have been planted.
Hold. Abide. Trust. There are so many beautiful things to come.
----------------------------
You don’t often expect to get schooled by your younger self, but in case you were curious about what me in the past had to say to me today, here it is:
If you spend enough time on Tumblr, you will become convinced by your fellow young adults that entering adulthood is like levelling up a video game without further instructions. Learning the ropes is really just smashing all the buttons at random until something works. And maybe this intense frustration is a way of raging against all the arbitrary milestones the world says are important. 2015 has been my year to hit these milestones and yet, it hasn’t been these events themselves that have mattered most to me, but the struggles and lessons learned in between. For posterity, though, here the list of things I did in 2015:
Instead, I hope you remember your first days as a student in the ER – lost, overwhelmed, and so convinced that you would never be good enough to work there. I want you to remember that shift in yellow zone when your preceptor was sick, when your two co-assigned nurses were swamped with 35+ patients, and you were barely able to do anything yet. Remember how you felt ambling around amidst the chaos, how useless and clueless you were, how little you knew. And don’t ever forget that woman sitting in that blue chair, who suddenly stopped you and said, “I know you don’t need to be told that you’re good at your job, but I just wanted you to know that I’ve been watching you tonight, and you have just been so kind to that old man that no one else is taking care of.” So you need to remember this: no matter how little you think you can do, you can still do something.
You won’t like this, but I also hope you remember that sting and disappointment you felt at your graduation when you didn’t get an award for being in the top 10% of the class because of your first year statistics mark. I say this for several reasons. Firstly, so that you remember your humility – because you can always use a good slice of humble pie. Also, because you need to be more balanced: yes, you should have worked harder in first year, but you also need not to let your academic performance define you. No matter what disappointment or sad smiles you get from your parents, you know when you’ve done your best. And you need to be content with that. You don’t need a perfect GPA to get where you need to go in life – things will be okay, life will go on, and I promise: you will be fine.
Future me, I hope you’re employed, but whether you are or not, please remember the four weeks you spent job hunting after your MCAT was done. Don’t forget the despair of sending out 50-60 applications and hearing back from no one. I hope you will always be compassionate and reach a hand out to people struggling to find work. Remember how you sometimes struggled to keep trusting that things would work out, how your faith faltered at times. Remember the ups and downs of hearing back about a possible position, just to be given bad news the next day, and then finally getting a call from HR months later, after thinking that you didn’t have a chance to go back to MSH. God always has a plan, even when it feels like you’re just stumbling forward blindly.
Remember the first few lonely weeks of starting your job, before you started to really get to know people, when almost all your friends were scattered over the province and the country. Remember what it’s like to be the only new employee with the least experience and the most questions. Remember the sudden adjustment of having no peers around to understand how inexperienced and stupid you feel.
Don’t forget these hard lessons. To paraphrase John Green (x), these are the lessons that will make you kinder, more empathetic, more generous. No matter what path you take from here on out, don’t forget your roots, your challenges, your failures.
Here is what I hope for you in the coming years:
Get better at your job. Study hard. Do good assessments. Ask lots of questions and look things up. Pay attention to details, but also take a step back and think about the bigger picture. Listen to your patients. Don’t become jaded or get too comfortable.
Be more patient with your parents. I know it’s hard to be micromanaged and to adjust to living with them after being independent. But remind yourself that they still have their parental wisdom to impart, and their micromanaging comes out of good intentions.
Write more. Reflect more. It will always do you good to remember where you came from.
Have fun. In the words of Fr. M: go out more, meet lots of people, embrace being in your twenties.
Be open to whatever God has in store for you. Pray often, discern constantly. And of course, trust in His plan, even if you can’t figure out what it is yet. If nothing else, surviving an earthquake should have taught you this. So take a deep breath in, trust, let go, and let God take care of all the things you can’t control.
Then the past decade happened. I graduated twice, got my first nursing job, then another one, and started a Masters. I travelled extensively, and walked two Caminos by myself. I struggled and failed countless times. I tried some of the things I had always dreamed of doing when I was younger, and tackled some of the very things I was most afraid to do. On the way, I was blessed with so many people who called out the truth and goodness in me, even when I couldn’t see it, and especially when the truth was hard to hear.
Today, I came across something I had written to myself a few years ago, when I was younger and greener and just starting my career. It reminded me of that sense of struggle and wrestling with the ache of finding my mission in life.
Today, I know exactly who I am. I have found my tribe – countless people who challenge me, always have my back, and are endlessly cheering me on. And I may not know exactly what the path ahead looks like, but I am not the least bit afraid, because I know my purpose and who is leading me.
Hold. That’s my word of the new year, and I am still figuring out what it means. I think it’s a reminder that I am held and protected by the arms of the Father. It’s a reminder to pay attention to what has a hold on my heart. It’s a reminder to hold on in hope, but most of all, to hold and wait patiently to grow the seeds that have been planted.
Hold. Abide. Trust. There are so many beautiful things to come.
----------------------------
You don’t often expect to get schooled by your younger self, but in case you were curious about what me in the past had to say to me today, here it is:
If you spend enough time on Tumblr, you will become convinced by your fellow young adults that entering adulthood is like levelling up a video game without further instructions. Learning the ropes is really just smashing all the buttons at random until something works. And maybe this intense frustration is a way of raging against all the arbitrary milestones the world says are important. 2015 has been my year to hit these milestones and yet, it hasn’t been these events themselves that have mattered most to me, but the struggles and lessons learned in between. For posterity, though, here the list of things I did in 2015:
- consolidated in the ER
- travelled to Nepal for a surgery placement
- (survived an earthquake)
- wrote my NCLEX, got my RN license
- graduated from university
- wrote the MCAT
- applied to medical school
- got my first full-time job as an ER nurse
- bought my first car
Instead, I hope you remember your first days as a student in the ER – lost, overwhelmed, and so convinced that you would never be good enough to work there. I want you to remember that shift in yellow zone when your preceptor was sick, when your two co-assigned nurses were swamped with 35+ patients, and you were barely able to do anything yet. Remember how you felt ambling around amidst the chaos, how useless and clueless you were, how little you knew. And don’t ever forget that woman sitting in that blue chair, who suddenly stopped you and said, “I know you don’t need to be told that you’re good at your job, but I just wanted you to know that I’ve been watching you tonight, and you have just been so kind to that old man that no one else is taking care of.” So you need to remember this: no matter how little you think you can do, you can still do something.
You won’t like this, but I also hope you remember that sting and disappointment you felt at your graduation when you didn’t get an award for being in the top 10% of the class because of your first year statistics mark. I say this for several reasons. Firstly, so that you remember your humility – because you can always use a good slice of humble pie. Also, because you need to be more balanced: yes, you should have worked harder in first year, but you also need not to let your academic performance define you. No matter what disappointment or sad smiles you get from your parents, you know when you’ve done your best. And you need to be content with that. You don’t need a perfect GPA to get where you need to go in life – things will be okay, life will go on, and I promise: you will be fine.
Future me, I hope you’re employed, but whether you are or not, please remember the four weeks you spent job hunting after your MCAT was done. Don’t forget the despair of sending out 50-60 applications and hearing back from no one. I hope you will always be compassionate and reach a hand out to people struggling to find work. Remember how you sometimes struggled to keep trusting that things would work out, how your faith faltered at times. Remember the ups and downs of hearing back about a possible position, just to be given bad news the next day, and then finally getting a call from HR months later, after thinking that you didn’t have a chance to go back to MSH. God always has a plan, even when it feels like you’re just stumbling forward blindly.
Remember the first few lonely weeks of starting your job, before you started to really get to know people, when almost all your friends were scattered over the province and the country. Remember what it’s like to be the only new employee with the least experience and the most questions. Remember the sudden adjustment of having no peers around to understand how inexperienced and stupid you feel.
Don’t forget these hard lessons. To paraphrase John Green (x), these are the lessons that will make you kinder, more empathetic, more generous. No matter what path you take from here on out, don’t forget your roots, your challenges, your failures.
Here is what I hope for you in the coming years:
Get better at your job. Study hard. Do good assessments. Ask lots of questions and look things up. Pay attention to details, but also take a step back and think about the bigger picture. Listen to your patients. Don’t become jaded or get too comfortable.
Be more patient with your parents. I know it’s hard to be micromanaged and to adjust to living with them after being independent. But remind yourself that they still have their parental wisdom to impart, and their micromanaging comes out of good intentions.
Write more. Reflect more. It will always do you good to remember where you came from.
Have fun. In the words of Fr. M: go out more, meet lots of people, embrace being in your twenties.
Be open to whatever God has in store for you. Pray often, discern constantly. And of course, trust in His plan, even if you can’t figure out what it is yet. If nothing else, surviving an earthquake should have taught you this. So take a deep breath in, trust, let go, and let God take care of all the things you can’t control.
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