I feel sad in knowing that the moment someone takes birth, the heap of expectations start piling up. Initially the lion’s share of expectations comes from the parents and the family, then from the teachers and friends, then from the calls of your professional world, then from your spouse and so on. Life can be hard if you don’t attempt to find your own call. Its just one life; would you consider it nice to be told what are you good at, your, rather, what activity or profession you must enjoy?
I believe when you carry others’ expectations or dreams rather maniacally, you are being dishonest to yourself, and to the cause of your own life. If you seek others’ thoughts for you to be in the driving seat of your life, you are being infidel to your own mind that contains a mish-mash of your own thoughts. Don’t suppress them to the extent of getting asphyxiated. Help them see the light of the day; they are in the pool of universe of some reason, and it lies in your prerogative to decipher the reason and lead your thoughts to their destinies.
It gives me goose thrill to see a young doctor in my hospital customizing the HTML code of his tumblr, to see a nurse giving extremely apt financial consultations to the people in her vicinity, and to see the chef-in-chief of the hospital acting like an electronics wizard when one or the other equipment went berserk. Life is all about possibilities, and the more you see the more you believe in. The moment you stop exploring your environment, and your own inner self, you defy the whole purpose of existence. To get hurt should be a matter of conscious choice; to feel happy must come naturally to you. I am lucky as I see myself completely fit in my profession; I could never have gained this much satisfaction in anything else.
Even while I am not at work I think like a doctor; I miss my surgical equipment; I miss the whiff of freshly fumigated operation theatre; I miss seeing the faces of my patients; I miss instructing my patients about their diseases; I miss the plebian, yet so rejuvenating, daily chores of my life as a doctor. Performing a surgery or treating a patient never comes as a work to me. It is rather being at no work; my profession makes me feel at ease. At times I feel that I don’t work at all; all I do is just to live my life the way I always wanted to. Cakes and ale come at a good price in life; I was just fortunate that I loved my profession, and in a way excelled in it, but not every person is as blessed.
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