Category Archives: Hope

What do you really want!

What do you tell yourself everyday, every night, every minute. What do you dream of when you sleep at night and when you are wide awake. What is it that burns a fire inside of you? What makes you wake up every morning and sleep well at night. Have you every asked yourself, what do you really want for yourself?

On this crisp spring morning, what are you truly wanting!

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It comes down to people..

I wrote a few months ago about my struggle with a friendship. The current political climate does not help at all. The insecurity of not knowing what someone really thinks of you, is crippling to a relationship. But does one’s political affiliation make them a bad person/friend/citizen?

I am not the one to answer any of these questions. Unfortunately, this also appears to be the biggest struggle of our time. We just don’t know who our friends are. We don’t know how valued we are by the people around us. As humans we all need the validation of ourselves. The social structure around us, is diminishing the value of self esteem.

In a society where the number of likes on a Facebook picture/post or the number of hearts on an Instagram picture is more reassuring than meeting a friend in person or a one on one phone call, the factors that play into self validation have changed.

Does that change how humans feel? Is having that 3 am friend enough? Is having one friend enough when the world seeks validations from hundreds/thousands? Is there value in human contact. Of any kind?

With the changing landscape of human behavior I often ask myself, am I expecting too much from people around me? Is it too much to ask for mutual respect, compassion, affection and the ability to once in a while put the other before your own self-interests. I have often thought about what makes a successful relation and every time, it comes down to the people in it!

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Perspective…

New York city, a place you get to call home with the sky scrappers and Wall Street, the theater scene along with the food scene. The best universities and hospitals to boast of. It seems like a great place to be. And yet, this is the city where the maternal mortality rates are higher than any other developed country in the world, vaccination rates are low, disparities in income exist out of proportion and at the end of every street corner one finds the evidence of extreme poverty. Which reality should we chose to look at today?

Three continents, 3 medical licences, 2 residencies, one fellowship, three graduate level degrees. What do you say, is that enough? And is it? The heart desires so much more. Some times the heart does not know where to stop. When does enough truly become enough?

One natural pregnancy, 5 failed intrauterine insemination,  one intrauterine insemination that led to a pregnancy, two second trimester miscarriages, 4 failed in-vitro fertilization attempts. Do you see the writing on the wall or do you see your eventual goal just one step closer?

Children are dying due to preventable shootings. Is it worth the struggles we have been through to have a baby in this country, if I will constantly live in the fear that their school is no longer the safest place they could be in?

I like my home. I know it is not perfect and there is so much to do. There are problems which I will own.  Only when I do that can I make a difference. Where do I stop? Who truly needs to change is it? Is it them or is it me?

Every time my body says enough is enough, my heart whispers, just one more time. Every time my friends and family tell me to give up, my resolves strengthens. It may turn out to be an unfulfilled wish, but at least I know I would have given it my best!

I worry about having children in this country, in this dying world for that matter.  But when you see children  doing what adults should have done, I see hope. I see hope for a brighter future. I see hope for a future with my children.

How do you chose to look at life? What is your perspective?

 

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Deep cleanse..

Home is where the heart it. This doesn’t feel like home. Perhaps a year isn’t enough time to feel like one belongs. There is too much space that isn’t well inhabited, and there isn’t enough space for so many things that should rightfully find their place here.

The move was meant to bring good luck. I haven’t seen any evidence of that. If anything life has been tough, demanding and very heart breaking. This year has totally sucked so far. So where is the heart I wonder?

What do I need to do to get to where I’d like to be? How does one deep cleanse the old wounds to make way for the new possibilities? I often talk on this blog about letting people go. I sometimes wonder if people should be the easiest commodity to play with in our lives. It is fair to only keep the best quality of them around. What might be good for me, may not be good enough for someone else. When I am wholly and painfully aware that people are the most fragile beings, is it fair to trade them?

People are not the only commodity that one may need to deep cleanse from. What about memories to things and every thing in between that cause pain and hurt? How do we deep cleanse from those?

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2 weeks down 50 more to go!

Just checking in! How were your first two weeks of this year?

2 more years and we will be in 2020’s. So fascinating! Has that hit anyone yet?

As a “blogger” I fail miserably. Of all the hats I wear on a daily basis, blogger hat suffers the most. I don’t have the words I once had in my arsenal to write. I don’t have the time, I once freely enjoyed. I don’t have the will to make the effort either.

I would hope I can change that this year.

 

 

 

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Life is a bitch..

There is no other way to say this but no one has it good. In the day and age of social media over load, it may seem that all people do is be happy and make merry. What we don’t share is our daily lives, with its struggles and uncertainties. What doesn’t come through those filters are our insecurities and our fears.

A month ago, my Facebook feed was flooded with R.I.P messages for a young man I met around 9 years ago. He was almost a decade younger than me in college and very shy. I met him and his sister during their spring break. Two typical brown kids in the United States. It was easy for them to see that I understood their very brown parents better than they themselves did and we bonded right away. That level of understanding-misunderstanding made us laugh, talk into the night, and share a closeness I would never encounter again. I never even met the two kids again apart from the occasional interactions via Facebook. And so when I learned of his death I reached out to the sister and parents. The devastation caused by the loss of this young brilliant warm affection human being has touched me as well. One can only imagine what people close to him feel. There is an outpouring of messages on Facebook for this young man even today, a month after his passing.

Last Saturday I was woken up by a frenzy of text messages from my co-worker. His 72 year old ex-military healthy father was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer on his first visit to the ER in 30 years. How does one even come to grapple with news like that. There is no cure, there is no hope. What do you tell your family when they look to your for some rationalizing of the impossible. For advise. I can only imagine what my co-worker is going through. He is the youngest of 7 siblings. Being the only physician in the family he is going to have to suck away the last rays of hope this family has at helping their father.

I can go on and on. One may feel that god gives different share of happiness to everyone, but let me assure you, there is equal amount of crap in every ones life that they need to deal with. We didn’t get pregnant with the last IVF cycle. Rather than feeling sorry for ourselves, we are compelled to counting our blessings when we see all the misery around us. I am not even going to get into the misery that is our government, the wars, the famine, the treatable infectious diseases that plague our society. We are even losing our basic sense of decency and respect. I am shattered today for more than one reason. My hope for me, my family and the rest of the world is that despite all the craziness in the world, we can all find some peace!

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They don’t make ’em like that anymore

Being born in a very modest salaried family I was raised in a one bedroom apartment. Love, respect, freedom, consideration, compassion and tolerance are some of the values I learned there. I may not have had much else, but love and respect were abound.

My father was the sole earner for the longest time. He would leave a set amount of cash in a common place where my mother knew she could pick up money for herself; as and when she needed it. No questions asked.

As a young child, I always considered it an endearing arrangement between my parents. I revered my father for the respect and freedom he ensured my mother received. My mother never felt the deprivation, control, lack of self respect that comes with lack of an income.  Her economic empowerment at at time that she made no money, was inspiring.

When I got married, I wanted a set amount of money to be put aside for me naturally. I used to call it “pocket money”. Times had changed, credit cards were the way to go, my then new husband said to me. He abhorred the idea of pocket money, but instead gave me 3 credit cards to use. Of course I was taken aback. I didn’t want to feel like I had to explain the money I would like to spend on me.

I could spend whatever money I wanted to, he would often reassure me. Instead I felt like I was being controlled. I couldn’t wait to get my “own money” to feel the same love and freedom my mother enjoyed so many years ago.

My “own money” didn’t come for the longest time. Graduate school and medical residency lends itself to school loans and large credit card bills, not an income. So where does that leave me. Still no pocket money, instead 3 credit cards to my name and a not so new husband taking care of me and all of my expenses.

Only recently was I listening to a documentary on the plight of women in some societies. Rich husbands who would provide an “allowance” to their wives. In a society which does not invest in its women to educate them which could then translate to empowerment seems unreal. But it isn’t. As I was listening to this documentary with my blood boiling to all degrees of fury, I was reminded of my own equation with my husband.

He never once bought into the whole “pocket money”/ “allowance” business despite my several protests. And though there was a lack of that second paycheck he always treated me as an equal. It has only taken me 9 years of being married to finally appreciate this level of respect and love. It is true, they don’t make ’em like that any more. 🙂

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