Tag: yogainspiration

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“Medicine is not a job, it is a calling.”

The other day, I was interviewed by the U.S. News and World report regarding why someone would make the financial decision to become a physician. My best answer was: “You don’t go into medicine to become rich, or famous, and definitely not to be well-rested. You go into medicine because it is a calling.”

12 years ago, I left my law practice to start the long, arduous journey of becoming a physician. Making the decision to leave law (a lucrative path at that!) to pursue medicine was an incredibly difficult one. If I had continued as an IP lawyer, I would be able to retire in the next 5 years, and enjoy a very comfortable retirement. But I would’ve lived only for my own comfort and the accumulation of wealth. But now, I am the person that is there for people on the worst day of their lives, and to me, there is nothing more meaningful.

If you start working as a plumber at 18yo, you will save more for retirement than if you become a doctor. With 12+ years of training, 8 of which you are paying into the system, and another 4+ of residency where you are barely paid enough to cover rent, the numbers don’t add up for doctors. But rationality has little to do with the decision to go into medicine. We make this decision because medicine is a calling. Because you can’t imagine doing anything else other than caring for those who are suffering. Because you have been so close to the human condition that you just want to alleviate other’s suffering. And any other life than that would be unsatisfactory.

I sometimes joke around that if I had stayed in law, I could be relaxing on my yacht on weekends, rather than working extra moonlighting shifts to pay down a mountain of loans. But life isn’t about dying with the most money, it’s about living in alignment with your values with the most meaning. There is a saying: “You may love medicine, but medicine will never love you back.” Whether or not medicine loves me back doesn’t matter to me. Medicine has taught me so much about being a compassionate, selfless, giving, empathetic human. And in that vein, medicine has given me so much than I will ever give to it.

Yes, it’s hard. Yes, it lends meaning to life. Yes, it’s worth it.

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Keep your pulmonary system healthy with this technique of diaphragmatic breathing

Did you know that we have pulmonary vagal irritant receptors? Irritant receptors lie between airway epithelial cells and are stimulated by noxious gases, cold, and inhaled dusts. Once activated, they send action potentials via the vagus nerve leading to bronchoconstriction (which can lead to cough) and increased respiratory rate. When stretched, these receptors also increase production of pulmonary surfactant, which allows our alveoli in the lungs to be more flexible and compliant. Our treatment, when these irritant receptors are activated is supplemental oxygen and airway clearance. You can do this yourself! Just take a long, deep, deliberate breath – right now! That brings in more oxygen into your lungs (supplemental oxygen), and helps to clear your airway with the prolonged exhalation.

Keep your pulmonary system healthy, avoid cough, and your vagus nerve toned during these times in the pandemic with this technique of slow, diaphragmatic breathing. Keeping the pulmonary vagal irritant receptors inactivated and at rest!

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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

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Silent Retreat-ing

I’ve just come out of a weekend-long silent meditation retreat, and I yearn now for more silence. There is something about silence that is relieving. You don’t have to worry if you are likeable, or if what you said to the person next to you was the right/wrong thing. There is no awkward silence because silence is the norm. It is amazing and agonizing all at once. The journey is bone-shaking and uncomfortable. At times you feel elated, other times, you yearn to be stimulated and distracted. It’s a constant battle of confronting every feeling, thought and emotion you have with dynamic awareness.

 

Time can go slow when you are meditating. This retreat was held at a mission centered around a beautiful old cathedral in the hills of Southern California’s city of Oceanside. The bells of the church would tell our time, ringing every 15 minutes; one for ¼ past the hour, two for half hour, and three for 45 past, and 4 times plus the number of hours to tell us the time on the hour. Sometimes, when the bell would ring, I would be surprised and disappointed that time had passed so slowly. Other times, I would hear the church bells and wish I had more time because I was just then settling into a sense of stillness. And then it was gone. We would sit, then walk, sit again, then walk again. The day was broken up by silent meals where I would try to break the habit of shoveling food in my mouth to move on to my next task, and mindfully taste every bite. Then we would sit and walk again. Occasionally, our teacher, Matthew Brensilver, would share wisdom through dharma talks. And they resonated. Sleep was speckled with intense dreams and deep, catatonic rest. All of it in an attempt to surrender.

 

At times, we retreat to seek refuge in the suffering that is inherent in every life, even among the most fortunate. There is courage in the willingness to look within and evolve. It is just about mustering the courage. Sit-walk-sit-walk-sit-walk. Isn’t that what we are doing in our daily lives? But in the case of retreat, maybe living in that life just a little more mindfully.