We've all been there. You look at your new baby and deep joy settles into your soul, but the days to come may not be exactly what you planned. The joy is soon colored by the realities of sleep deprivation, worry and more advice than any human being could ever possibly use.
Now, I've found grace in helping others by sharing my story, hopefully showing that you can bring meaning and purpose to tragedy. The grace of helping others is far greater than the suffering I once endured.
The insurance companies' complications, government involvement, and economic downturn have all added fuel to this fire of discontent. But I think the problem is even more pervasive than that. It stems from our interactions. With each other and with our patients.
Hinduism has a beautiful myth about the origins of love. In the beginning, there was a superbeing called Purusha. This being was without desire, craving, fear, or indeed the impulse to do anything at all--since the universe was already perfect and complete.
In reality, you can put a filter on an image, you can add 100 layers to make the perfect picture. But for some, through the lens the naked truth lies in the eyes, the poverty, the struggle, the hunger and the truth that is recorded.
Time, money, and energy are finite resources that each of us must budget. Sometimes it's difficult not to judge or criticize people whose passion seems to be directed toward causes that are inconsistent with our own priorities.
Wouldn't it be great if there really were an official "Love Day," but in a way, I prefer it being something we decide to do. We can have as many love days as we want. Imagine that -- each day devoted to feeling good. You might find yourself not wanting to settle for anything less!
Five dogs. 12 weeks. Increased compassion. Better sleep. More patience. Peace of mind. Improved relationships. Smiles. Opened hearts. Expressed emotions. More unconditional love. At a maximum security prison. And the dogs didn't charge for their services.
Friendliness and trust are linked, but also very different. In relationships that matter, trust masked as friendliness is fleeting and false, much like receiving an award you do not deserve or did not earn.
Compassion literally means "to feel with" or "to suffer with" another person. It means seeing something the way they do, and experiencing it with them. Here's what I've learned about being a more compassionate parent, especially in the moments when compassion may not come readily.
And we want to help. And we're afraid to. We're afraid of not knowing what to say. We're afraid of looking too closely into the deep and bottomless well of someone else's unhappiness, afraid of how those dark waters may beckon to us.
May this world continue to be blessed with fearless artists who are inspired by Robin Williams' comedy, courage, and creativity. May we pour out compassion. May we be aware of mental health and the sickness that comes with it.