What were the biggest lessons I learned so far this year? How can I apply them moving forward?
Positively Purging-I welcome your feedbacks in the comments and your likes and passing the real life wisdom on to others as I embark on this new venture of “positively purging“, as I know each of these pieces represents something…
What am I holding onto today that I need to release?
Do I feel my most authentic self in the spaces I spend the most time? Why or why not?
Positively Purging-I welcome your feedbacks in the comments and your likes and passing the real life wisdom on to others as I embark on this new venture of “positively purging“, as I know each of these pieces represents something…
I love the Op-Ed section of the paper. I believe we all need to write at least one letter on something we’re passionate about in our lifetime. In saying that, I applaud this reader
Re: “Former Seattle Children’s doctor wins $21M in discrimination lawsuit” (Dec. 23, Local News):
I am a graduate of the University of Washington School of Medicine, and I have received medical training and been in medical practice both in the Deep South and in the Pacific Northwest. I am a Black physician. The issues raised by Dr. Benjamin Danielson in the lawsuit against Seattle Children’s hospital are difficult and painfully familiar to my colleagues. I applaud his courage.
I, too, have worked in well-regarded hospitals where I’ve seen some Black patients receive excellent, compassionate care while others endure medical negligence and malpractice. I’ve seen Black women, as patients, nurses and as physicians suffer mistreatment by patients, professional colleagues and administrators of all backgrounds. Excellent, compassionate medical care and a hostile work environment are not necessarily mutually exclusive. We must encourage the former, and help our vital institutions deal with the latter.
My North Star as a physician has always been, “What is best for my patients?” The process of answering that question keeps me grounded and leads to healing for the patient, for the institution and for me.
Memorial Drive: a Daughter’s Memoir (2020, nonfiction, 199 pages), by Natahsa Trethewey. I recall hearing about Trethewey on NPR “When Natasha Trethewey was 19, her world shattered after her former stepfather killed her mother.” I thought it would make a compelling page turner. I was disappointed. I stopped on page 88 as she wrote “it could go on and on and on, or someone must write the end of it”. I agreed with the author and made that my end. The author jumped around too much from one memory to another. There are countless examples of this: when her mother and biological father separated, and her mother moved and met her abusive husband. There was never any explanation about how the author’s mother met him and how she could’ve allowed such an abusive man into her life after having a previously good husband. No apparent reason why her mother left family members, who could care for her daughter, and then moved to Atlanta. It was all just vague and confusing leaving me with too many questions, and not enough detailed answers. This book does deal with Domestic Violence, and I encourage anyone who finds themselves in such a situation to outreach to the National Domestic Violence Hotline.800.799.SAFE (7233)
Here’s the truth: vulnerability and softness are powerful forms of self-love. when we allow ourselves to be gentle, we create space for healing, growth, and true resilience. Letting vulnerability in. there’s strength in being open and soft, in allowing yourself to be seen for who you are. rest as resilience. honor your need to pause. rest is not an indulgence—it’s essential for your well-being. talking to yourself like a dear friend. practice self-compassion by speaking kindly to yourself, especially when your inner critic gets loud. celebrating imperfections. you are enough, exactly as you are. embrace the quirks and flaws that make you beautifully human. softness is not weakness; it’s your birthright and a source of your strength. as you navigate life’s challenges, treat yourself with the tenderness and compassion you deeply deserve. after all, healing comes when we allow ourselves to slow down and be kind to ourselves
