Looking Back

I wanted to write a post tonight but was having trouble deciding what to write about. I looked through some old files on my computer, pre-dating my life as a doctor and I found this self-reflection essay I wrote to my parents. It was the day after my medical school orientation. I had just arrived home from the long drive and they asked me how I felt. I thought it would be great to share this with anyone who is going through a big transition, whether it's starting a new school, a new job, or a new relationship.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I'm stressed okay? Stressed: when your body feels like it is winding out of control. I can’t help it. I’m sure you went through the same thing when you were my age. You even told me that you did. You didn’t know what you wanted to be when you grew up. Who’s to say I do either? I want to be a doctor, no doubt. But I want to be a lot of things as well. Maybe it’s one of those mid-life crisis feelings you get when you realize you can’t accomplish all your dreams, except I'm having it now and not 20 years later.

Medical school orientation was just a glimpse of my future and it's overwhelming to say the least. So many changes are happening, from moving to a new place, starting a new school, meeting all of these new (wicked smart) people. It’s one thing after another and sometimes it feels like I’m just a rock on a hill that keeps rolling and doesn’t stop and hits a bunch of bumps along the way and maybe at some points gets stuck in the mud but I keep rolling…and usually rocks roll downhill but I feel like I’m rolling uphill…so maybe I’m not the rock but the one pushing the rock and it just hasn’t reached the top yet. Like that guy Sisyphus in mythology who’s been damned to constantly push a rock up a hill. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I’m just saying it’s hard. It’s hard to look down that hill and see everything you’ve left behind. Some things you've lost. The memories you can’t relive. It’s just hard letting go and moving forward.

Oftentimes, after driving for long hours, I end up reflecting on past events, past friendships, past everything. It’s not that I want to think about these things, my mind just starts drifting (don’t worry I’m still focused on the road). This time, with such a huge change coming forward, I started to think about my childhood.

Even if you can't relive memories, you can revisit them. So I stopped by my old elementary school. It was late. The lights along the building cast shadows on the playground. All I wanted to do was swing. I wanted a gravity-defying adventure and the closest way I could think of fulfilling this need was to swing. The parking lot was deserted.

I sat on the hard plastic seat, one flip-flop crunching on the damp mulch, the other lifted and reaching. I looked back at the four-square patterns, where my ten-year old self used to play. I looked at the Tetherball courts where we used to host tournaments. It felt like just yesterday. Don’t you ever feel that way? It’s such a common saying but you never really grasp the meaning of it until you're older. I had one foot on the ground and the other in the air, like one part of me was in the present and the other in the past.

I started pushing myself and the feelings of being on a swing as a child returned. I gained momentum quickly, one of those skills you never forget. I could see almost over the tops of the trees. It was then, after pumping my legs back that I swung forward, horizontal. I looked up. Gazing at the canvas of a clear night sky with stars twinkling in and out of focus, I caught my breath. I wasn't a rock nor was I pushing one up a hill. For those few seconds of zero velocity, I felt weightless, leaping into the dark. As if my legs could touch the stars and I could walk out there, up there, and all around there, painting my own constellation. It was so peaceful; the whole world was looking at me and I was looking back.

I wasn't going to solve everything in that moment. I was coming to terms with having my life turned upside down (for the better, I know). I was entering an unknown era, the most challenging yet. But for that brief glimpse of the space between, I felt like anything was possible. Like I was still a kid, full of wonder and curiosity stargazing for worlds beyond. That wonder and curiosity is part of what led me toward this path. The other part is you two. You raised me to see that the stars shine brightest in the darkest skies. So yes, I'm stressed. But I'm also excited and grateful and ready for another gravity-defying adventure!

Love,
Alyssa

I hope this helps you or someone you know realize you're not alone when it comes to that butterfly feeling as you look back while moving forward. We don't have everything mapped out for us. It's not "written in the stars." We make our own constellation and sometimes, it just takes a little push.