I’m a psychiatrist. Every so often, whether I’m walking along the stream in our neighborhood, drinking freshly poured-over coffee, or watching sports, this fact enters my awareness. Even now, six years after committing to become a shrink, it still makes me chuckle. I don’t laugh because of the stereotype or because of any residual disdain … Continue reading Written in the Stars: Psychiatry and Me
My poor wife. If I utter the phrase “object relations” to her one more time, she may combust. I don’t want that. The same revulsion applies, per her indications, to any mention of Bion, Winnicott, and Klein, the object-relations pioneers. She doesn’t want to hear any more about them, their emphasis on the maternal holding … Continue reading Infinite Reflections in Medicine’s Mirror
My self. Once it was lost, I was willing to sacrifice everything to get it back. And good thing too, because everything was always the price.
Life was "... not so clear to me as I have for a long time imagined." Thanks to Rousseau, I've seen my motivations for what they are: obscured by the lies of my whys... until I'm ready to see the truth.
I went to medical school to keep my family's love. Becoming a psychiatrist expanded my understanding of what love is. I needed to leave medicine to practice true love.
I'd forgotten this night. My plane touched down in Denver a little past ten, a direct flight from Orange County. I’d watched Southwest’s in-flight entertainment for the duration, seeking decompression. My day had been a long one. Leaving for vacation was always difficult, but this day was particularly arduous. With five minutes to spare, I’d … Continue reading A Lit Match Away from Internal Combustion
The only way to live a life without regret is to have regret. Regret is only the beginning of our story.
“Isn’t this world a mysterious place?” I nodded, smiling back at her in agreement. Just an hour earlier, I sold a dresser to this kind woman, and while I was situating her newly acquired centerpiece into her dining room, she asked if I did restoration work for hire. That I did, I told her. She … Continue reading Humbled by an Afternoon of Mystery
At recess, I didn’t like the jungle gym or its imaginary castle games. The monkey bars were boring. I could always get down with the swings—everyone loves the swings—but the jungle gym wasn’t my scene. So, every day, when a ball was available, I played kickball. By the time I left grade school, I graduated … Continue reading Wield the Power of No
Watching sunlight spread slowly over my yard’s newly green grass, I accompanied the morning from my porch. It’s a simple, majestic experience, usually. Sometimes I’m lost in thought, worried about this or that, and I miss it; but today, I was there. I closed my eyes and sensed the sun’s warmth on my face, identifying … Continue reading The Cost of Admission
