If you aren’t in over your head, how do you know how tall you are?

“If you aren’t in over your head, how do you know how tall you are?” ― T.S. Eliot

The LA Times featured my hospital system, and specifically my hospital, Sharp Memorial, in a photo journal. It was surreal seeing the hallways and wards that I walk through on a daily basis pictures in such a vivid and prolific manner. The second photo is in an ER bay that I walk in almost every day I’m at work to admit patients.

In this strange time and place where every aspect of medicine has been affected by the virus, making clinical decisions for our patients has arguably never been harder. When I look back on this time of my career 20 years from now, I know we’ll be proud of our strength, our sacrifice, our courage… and our friends. The friends who helped us clean and doff our PAPRs in the ED, the friends who laughed and cried with us as we attended COVID-19 treatment update meetings on Zoom, the friends who had pizza delivered to the wards because they know that will be the only thing you have time to eat that day, the friends who held the hands of our dying patient in the ICU. As I witness each act of friendship, I’m learning just how enormous and significant kindness and love can be, and that makes me immeasurably proud to be even just a small part of your lives.

Photos by @yamphoto of the @latimes

The world is like a sleeping tiger and we live our lives on its back

“Of all the hardships a person had to face, none was more punishing than the simple act of waiting.” ― Khaled Hosseini, A Thousand Splendid Suns

There is an analogy in Buddhist philosophy that the world is like a sleeping tiger and we live our lives on its back. Every now and then, the tiger wakes up, and it is terrifying. Sometimes, it wakes up because someone we love dies. Or someone breaks our heart (raising my hand to both). Or there’s a pandemic (another high hand raise). But, this is far from the first time the tiger has woken up. It has been waking up since the beginning of time and will never stop waking us up with it. But that’s the rub. We get to wake up. Night after night, we sleep on the tiger’s back, and each time, we are surprised when it awakens. If we can discard our sense of complacency during slumber, if we can stay awake and open, we can stop being afraid. We can be awake and ready for all that will come.

This has been a hard, scary month. For me, for you, especially for our elderly brethren. There is so much anxiety everywhere. It has been an arduous task, trying to make sense of it all. I have tried to spend each day reflecting upon this time, and how I’ve reacted. I hope you will too.

We’ll get through this, my friends. We will. Let’s stick this out through the end – together, with grace, dignity and an underlying sense of humanity. The only regret we will have is if we cut the parachute before we land. So, let’s land together.
I wish you all the best during these unexpected and stressful times. Someday soon, things will be back to a sense of normalcy. And we will fall back asleep on the tiger. But, I hope in your dreams, you will remember what it was like to be awake, and be open to staying awake. Knowing that impermanence is our steady state will alleviate so much anxiety and suffering. And you will no longer need to wait. You will be awake and alive. I believe this and I hope it for each one of you. I look forward to seeing you all again. And even, in time, with sufficient PPE, holding your hand as we land back on the ground together. *Photo captured from a picture framed on my desk. May you remain brave.

Love, ingrid

I am giving it all I’ve got.

This decade has been a doozy for me. Has it been for you, too? Over this past decade, I left the practice of law, broke off an engagement to pursue my dream of medicine, attended and graduated medical school and two residencies, wrote and published a book, moved into and out of a three states, completed my yoga therapy and 500-hour teacher trainings, led many yoga retreats, made friends, lost friends, fell in love, had my heart broken… and in some ways, I ended up right where I began. That’s right, 10 years ago, I was living in San Diego, and 10 years later, I have found my way back here. Teaching at the same studio (Prana), enjoying time with some of same people (that’s you, Nico), driving home to see my parents with the same dog (Rusty)… yet I, the Ingrid that was a decade ago, is so different. My heart is different. My soul is less rigid. My heart feels flexible and accepting. My soul feels open and ready. Instead of judging, I seek to listen. Instead of fear, I choose hope.

Halfway through my medical training, I almost lost hope. Seeing so much “unfairness” and suffering life (and death)… watching how human stories unraveled in the most heartbreaking ways… it almost broke me. But somehow, with the support of amazing friends and mentors, I went from thinking: “We’re all going to die, what’s the point?” to “Wait. Yes. We are all going to die… THAT’S the point!” I went from thinking that everything was hopeless and meaningless to realizing that our time is so short, so fast. And that was incredibly freeing. It made me embrace all the clichés, all the inspirational quotes. Because life IS short. So, I had better do what I can with the time I’ve got.

So here I am, giving it all I’ve got. Staying open to it all. Not knowing where this decade will take me. Knowing there will be twists and turns. Uncertainties and fears. But doing my best to keep my heart open to whatever may arise. Because… that’s the point