on inner peacefulness

I can recognize that living life intentionally makes a huge difference in one’s day to day processing of … the day to day grind. Slowing down, letting it sink in, enjoying any and all moments in one’s experience. It’s beautiful; it’s also a challenge, as differentiating this quietude from laziness is a real feat for the A-types out there.

When I was studying abroad and growing sick of my cell block with each passing moment, I began to find solace in listening to silence. I think this is the first time in my life where I would live with intention, valuing time alone and in the quietness of my own sitting or typing, or whatever I was doing without others around. Yes, it was avoidant and I suppose to some extent, for me, doing this still is. But it is deescalating, anxiety-reducing, and magnificent.

I have the privilege of enjoying slow, intentional hours now with my dog, which is one of the most underrated life experiences I’ve ever acquired. This luxury first manifested during the height of the pandemic lockdown, when taking him out was my only escape from the inside. Granted, dropping out of society in 2020 was another study in intentional living; but that’s a whole other pontification, I would trade nothing for some of these silent hours with my dog that I can still enjoy now, with the busy gusts of life swirling about every single day; whether we are just curled up and looking at memes or going for long walks along the riverfront with Lana del Ray in the background.

In order to do this, I had to make some difficult life changes that compromised my wages. Right now, I wouldn’t change it. Working in health care is like cannonballing into a black hole, with the pressure breaking you the further you plummet, no end fathomable. I am impassioned by my career in most aspects, and my desire to help others, but I cannot let it overtake my own existence as it had been doing. I can enjoy my career intentionally now as a professor; pick and choose the parts I love and impart that knowledge and passion into budding clinicians. I can grade papers quietly beside my dog at home. I can choose when to throw myself into that black hole as a contractor, or when I need a break. I disagree that money can’t buy happiness; plenty of things I love have a price tag. However, finding a balance between an inner calm and those purchasable, external joys can help you put out the flame of capitalism and enjoy some time in your own mind.