Agency and Emergence

IMG_1568

When do you push forward, and when do you step back?

How do you decide, or is it decided for you?

How does this reciprocal rhythm oscillate and dance in your life?

*****

Modern western culture tells individuals and organizations alike: Grow! Move! Push! –Or die!  Competition and scarcity dominate the collective psyche, if not consciously then subconsciously, no question.  Even on vacation we are pressured to do something socially noteworthy, lest we have nothing to report upon return.  There is a palpable, frenetic, explicit and implicit drive—to keep driving.  I’m not complaining, necessarily.  Growth, innovation, evolution, improvement, advancement, development—I pursue these with as much fervor as anyone.  It has served me well!  My whole life the hard work (and a lot of luck) has paid off in spades, in school, work, and now leadership in multiple realms.  I have accomplished as much as I could have imagined at this age, and I’m just getting started!  How exciting and rewarding, living a life of audacious acceleration, of claiming agency, of “Yes, AND!”

IMG_1547

Tara Donovan, Chicago IL July 2019

Yet, lately I feel another energy emerging.  It came on unexpectedly, and I welcome it like my oldest friend.

I only realized it as I wrote about ‘Aunt Rachel,’ Dr. Rachel Remen, last month.  “I am called to slow down, to be still, more than I have been (have allowed?), for a very long time,” I wrote, quite spontaneously.  Those words forelighted a month of ‘settling and recharging… awareness and fulfillment,’ as I wrote to my friend, when I realized what was happening.  This meta-awareness always fills me with awe and gratitude, as if the cosmos lets me in on a secret, conspiring to prepare me for what lies ahead. Remen’s My Grandfather’s Blessings reminds me of the importance of human connection at the deepest level.  Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert makes me confident and brave to create, to make things to share, like this blog or a new oral presentation.  The Art of Possibility helps me dig deep, in a different way every time I reread it, for fundamental relational skills when I need them the most.

The week I wrote about Aunt Rachel, Maria Popova’s post on friendship as rendered by Kahlil Gibran crossed my email inbox.  The Prophet was one of my favorite books in high school.  I found it moving, inspiring, and reassuring, like a lovingly personal counselor, in those emotionally tumultuous adolescent times.  Popova’s post brought that comfort back, similar to how Remen’s book did in recent weeks.  I felt compelled to follow her sequential links to writings by Seneca, CS Lewis, David Whyte, and John O’Donohue, all on friendship.  She quotes Seneca, the stoic: “Ponder for a long time whether you shall admit a given person to your friendship; but when you have decided to admit him, welcome him with all your heart and soul. Speak as boldly with him as with yourself…”  Something within me was deeply moved, activated to seek more.

IMG_1545

Tara Donovan, Chicago, IL, July 2019

How fascinating, what is with this fresh call on my attention?  I’m not sure, but I trust it fully, and have embraced it.  I found To Bless the Space Between Us by John O’Donohue, a book of the most eloquent blessings, and Consolations: The Solace, Nourishment, and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words by David Whyte.  Both books quench my thirst for beautiful language that articulates the deep longing for meaning and connection, with myself as well as with others.  They call to me.

Between caring for patients, leading work teams, proposing new projects, LOH training, speaking engagements, wife-ing, parenting and friending, life could hardly be more challenging or fulfilling (I should also call my parents more often!).  I see every meeting, every letter, every message as a chance to show up all in, fully present, at my best.  To be my Best Self in all realms, I push myself to learn, practice, and excel, to exercise my agency in service of relationships and connection.  So sometimes the universe approaches me lovingly, jogging alongside, inviting me to slow down.  Take a break, he says, enjoy the view.  Soak it in.  Relish how far you’ve come, what you’ve built thus far.  Breathe deep, stretch out.  Rest a while.  What do you see, she asks, how does it feel? What have you learned, they say, what can you synthesize and integrate, before you march on with resolve and conviction once again, in the direction of your biggest dreams?

The word pairs below emerged, with a little nudging, over the past week.  I see them not as dichotomies, not at all in conflict.  Rather, they are each separate and inextricable sides of the same multifaceted polyhedron of life, necessary counterbalances for a healthy, fulfilling, and meaningful existence.  I started wearing my Yin-Yang ring in January.  It is meant to remind me that opposites are more often complementary than oppositional.  Our society values agency over emergence.  We endorse doing ahead of holding.  But practicing emergence is by no means passive, weak, or unproductive.  It is active, enthusiastic participation in the dance of life, the reciprocal movement of ebb and flow.  Childbirth and heartbeat are quintessential examples of the balance of Agency and Emergence, giving and receiving, contracting and relaxing.

What other word pairs would you add?

I commit to fully inhabiting, savoring this deliberate time and open space, however long it lasts.  Energy will shift again, as it always does.  I have the next self-improvement books and task lists in queue.  I’ll get on the blocks again, ready for the starting gun, soon enough.  But for now, I breathe deeply and look around in appreciation and learning.

 

   Agency                           Emergence

Control                             Relation

        Action                          Observation

Power                        Capacity

Acceleration                          Momentum

      Focus                         Zoom Out

Contraction                       Relaxation

Tightening                      Stretching

Exhale (blow)                     Inhale (smell)

  Intention                        Possibility

  Strength                        Elasticity

Telling                        Asking

             Make this happen                         What’s trying to happen?

            Tap the system                       Watch it spin a while

               Grip                        Hold loosely

Drive                      Ride

Take up space                          Hold space

Yang                     Yin

  Heartbeat

  Childbirth

The exhibit where I took the art photos:  https://smartmuseum.uchicago.edu/exhibitions/tara-donovan-fieldwork/

Our 5 Fundamental Needs

561512_4331884049855_1855935252_n

 

To Feel:

 

Seen

Look what I can do

This is how I can contribute

See me achieve

 

Heard

Hear my concerns

Take me into account

 

Understood

Validate me

Normalize my feelings

Say you can relate

 

Accepted

Tell me I belong

 

Loved

Participate in the Messy with me

Commit to sticking with me through the hard shit

Let me be my whole self with you

Be your whole self with me

 

Children by parents

Patients by doctors

Students by teachers

Workers by managers

The led by their leaders

Spouses

Friends

 

What if?

 

 

Good Doctor and Good Mom

IMG_3823

What do you sacrifice in pursuit of your dreams?

What does your calling cost you?

What are the returns on your investments?

* * * * *

Last week I mentioned Dierks Bentley’s, “Woman, Amen”, a song I love.  After listening to it for many days on repeat this past week, I decided to tour his nine albums this weekend.  His songs vary in topic and form, and at the same time he has a consistent style and vibe.  I like it.  Yesterday I heard his song, “Damn These Dreams”:

Now honey I know you miss me, I feel it when you kiss me

Trust me when I say every goodbye hurts

Well damn these dreams

Playin’ my heart just like a guitar string

Pullin’ me away from you and everything I really need

Well damn these dreams

Chasing that same old whiskey melody

All up and down these Nashville streets

It’s hard to look true love in the eye and leave

Damn these dreams

 

Instantly I remembered two other songs with similar themes:

 

Goodbye Again”, by John Denver:

Other voices beckon me, and for a little while

It’s goodbye again, I’m sorry to be leaving you

Goodbye again, as if you didn’t know

It’s goodbye again

Have to go and see some friends of mine

Some that I don’t know

Some who aren’t familiar with my name

It’s something that’s inside of me

Not hard to understand

It’s anyone who’ll listen to me sing

…Lying by your side’s the greatest peace I’ve ever known

But it’s goodbye again…

 

And “I Play the Road”, by Zach Brown Band:

…She says daddy where to you go

When you leave me all these nights

With a suitcase and guitar in your hand

Kissing me and mom goodbye with a tear and a smile

Where do you go? 

Daddy where do you go?

I play the road

And the highway is our song

And every city’s like the same three chords

Been helping us along when the story’s told

And the crowd is done and gone

Shaking off the miles and trying to make it home

…Mile after mile… 

Baby, I’m comin’ home

Years ago, I think it was either Dana Carvey or Martin Short who said something like one can only tolerate the life of a comedian because s/he simply cannot do anything else—they must do comedy.  If anyone can find the reference, please share!

* * * * *

As it is in music and comedy, so it is in medicine.  For many of us, we simply must do it; we have no existential choice.  These songs describe well our pain and conflict when we take call or have to work on weekends, or miss the kids’ school and sports events, and spend hours at home on the medical record or answering pages.

I recently read an article, “A Good Doctor or a Good Mom, Never Both”.  Early in this physician mom writer’s career, an elder colleague told her, “’You can be a good doctor, and you can be a good mother, but you can never be both at the same time.’”  The author disagrees, saying it’s either/or, never both, ever.  At once hearing Bentley’s song, I felt a moment of panic, mortified that I’m destroying my family for my job.  Am I totally selfish for choosing this career, and are my priorities so distorted that I so often put work before my family?  Have I chosen to be a good doctor and a horrible mom?

Thank goodness for Simon Sinek who, in his 2014 book, Leaders Eat Last, referenced a 2011 study that showed “a child’s sense of well-being is affected less by the long hours their parents put in at work and more by the mood their parents are in when they come home.  Children are better off having a parent who works into the night in a job they love than a parent who works shorter hours but comes home unhappy.”  This idea has saved me from countless episodes of self-flagellation and guilt.  It was so instantly redeeming that I recall the exact moment I heard it—I was at the airport, traveling solo, likely for a work related conference.  I can’t say I’m ecstatic every evening coming home, but I generally feel satisfied by a fulfilling day doing something I love.  I can confidently report that my husband feels the same.

I’ve attended one swim meet in two years.  I miss any school event that occurs during the workday.  I still get lost walking the maze that is the kids’ school, though we (they) have been there over a decade.  But I get to choir and orchestra concerts, and dinner potlucks.  I know my kids’ friends and am friends with their parents.  The kids’ teachers think they feel loved by us.  I think I do okay.

My kids hear me on the phone with patients and colleagues.  They know it takes time and understanding to take good care of people.  I’m confident they see and feel how meaningful this work and these relationships are to me.  And the science is pretty cool, too.  I would never pressure my kids to go into medicine, but I would not be surprised if they did.  I would absolutely encourage it, if it gives them the joy it gives me.

“You can be a good doctor, and you can be a good mother, but you can never be both at the same time.”  I respectfully agree and disagree.  You can absolutely be both, often at the same time.