Summer of 2018, I had been working as a hospitalist for 5 years. I had changed jobs in 2017 and was comfortably settled in the new job, the team, and the hospital staff. My husband and I had been married for a year and a half, we were getting comfortable living together, getting used to each other’s idiosyncrasies. I was about to graduate in 1 month from my master’s program. I was thinking about my next move after my masters. I was debating whether I should apply for another job using my masters’ degree or should I plan for a new project at my current job, or should I apply for a fellowship?
As a physician, you are always looking to make the next move so you can achieve that goal. Always have a test to ace, do research, write the next essay/paper, get a residency, then get a fellowship, then get board certified, then get a job, be part of committees, get recertification. There is always the next goal to accomplish. You forget the joys of colors, music, reading stories, playing in the sun with friends.
As a hospitalist, I work for one week and get the subsequent week off. My week usually entails working 7 am to 7 pm, return home, have dinner, watch some television, read a few articles and turn in for the night. I would have homework or papers to complete and travel for classes while studying for the masters' program. But now that I would have more time after graduation from the program, I could pick up extra shifts on my weeks off or travel a bit.
During this time, I received a text from my sister, sharing a pic of my 8-year-old niece at the polycystic kidney foundation's auction. She had just auctioned her painting of a bright colorful glittery kidney with nephrons. This immediately took me back to my childhood, where I used to paint and color during my summer vacations. Reminded me, when I used to paint, read books, write letters to my neighbors for enjoyment at my pace. Those summers with activities were about learning something new, trying something new for fun, all to be discovered without deadlines or competition.
That is when I decided to pick up painting. As a kid, I had used watercolors to paint and it was my least favorite medium compared to using oil pastels. I felt my first painting should have sharp colors and painted with a brush. So I began researching, most commonly used mediums to paint such as watercolors, acrylic or oil painting. I did not have many co-workers that could guide me about this, as most of them did not paint.
I purchased canvases, inexpensive acrylic painting colors, and brushes. I still live a resident's life and am always afraid of splurging. I was worried, what if this was a short-lived interest. I googled youtube videos, beginners guide to making simple paintings. I painted my first painting for my dad as a birthday gift. It was a simple painting of the dandelions in an open field, using 3 simple colors, a kitchen cleaning sponge and Q-tips. This was a new beginning, a new adventure that I was excited to embark on. This simple painting has me enthusiastic about painting more with each passing day. I paint to beautify the plain walls of my home, my families and friends homes, offices and more. This newfound splash of color has changed how I view the world with my eyes.
The simple reminder that we learned in grade school, how blue and yellow blend together to make beautiful green. I started seeing nature around me again. Appreciating each beautiful sunrise, sunset colors, the magnificent colors of the flowers blooming in our backyard. I wanted to pick up the brush and colors and replicate this. I wanted my paintings to tell a story, without using words.
Becoming a physician, has been a goal that I have raced behind since the age of 6. I am grateful, how fortunate I am to have achieved my childhood dream, I realize I have ignored my other passions, mostly because I have been busy with my first love, medicine. This experience has transformed me with looking forward to enjoying something outside of medicine. On the days, when I return home tired or frustrated, I know I can pick up my painting brushes and colors and paint a better end to my day.
I will end with one of my favorite poems by William Henry Davies:
“A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.”
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