What a Non-Catholic Can Learn from Observing Lent

A week ago was Ash Wednesday. I saw many people at work going about with a black ash cross on their forehead. Although I am not a Catholic by any stretch of the imagination, I have always respected Lent. I think it has a beautiful symbolism, in so far as my understanding goes. If you want to learn more generally about Lent, here's a good overview. The forty days of Lent (Sundays do not 'count' because Sundays are a celebration of salvation) mark a time of prayer, penance, and fasting (meaning a different diet, not total starvation) in preparation for the resurrection of Christ at Easter. Many people see the temporary sacrifices of Lent (chocolate, TV, internet) as another way to do penance, develop self-discipline, and remember the sacrifice of Christ -- for instance, this 25-item list put together by and for teenagers. Pretty impressive for high school students, right? One could argue it is artificial hardship, but I was thinking how valuable it could be for anyone, not just the Lent-observing Christian, to 'do without' for 44 days.

It seems this practice would bring us closer to those people who have less than we do, while reminding us that we have much more than we think. Especially during this Great Recession, I've been remembering the old saying, "Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without." Not that I live a deprived life -- we live in comparative luxury on our modest income (ie my research stipend and his intern stipend). But of course it's good to be careful and frugal with money, and to be thankful for what you have -- no matter how much it is.

The 44 days of Lent are also valuable to the non-Catholic as a dedicated time to learn a new habit. It takes people anywhere from 18 to 91 days (depending on the individual, the behavior being learned, and which study you read) to really establish a habit, but 44 days is a pretty solid amount of time to devote to a new practice. Check out this Slate article on one (Indian-American) woman's experiment with becoming a morning person. You could apply this to anything, from nagging your children/spouse/employees all the way to kicking a dependence on caffeine, alcohol, or cigarettes. Speaking of which, isn't it neat that our medical school's first-year syllabus requires that we attend an AA meeting if we've never been to one, so that we understand what it is we are recommending to patients?

So my Catholic neighbors and colleagues have inspired me to re-examine my own life. What do I indulge in? What could I do without? What would make me a better person?  I think as I get older (I'm now 27 years and 4 months old), I need to decide what my priorities are going to be. As a high school student, especially, I had this strange idea that I could do everything. I could act in plays, sing in a choir, choreograph dances, ride horses competitively, study hard, do research, volunteer, etc etc. And I could do it all, but I was perpetually exhausted, never saw my family or friends, and I think I averaged about 4-5 hours of sleep a night my junior and senior years. Obviously (in hindsight), that was not sustainable. However, we'll see if I've still got it (residency is coming)!

Our little older Siamese (she's 13) had a health scare this weekend: she chewed a bump off her shoulder which turned out to be benign (a self-operating cat! Dr. Cat, M.D!). But the reminder that she, like all of us, is mortal made me want more focus in my life. I am currently deciding on a specialty (almost there; really close to deciding), starting a marriage, and trying to find enough time for family and close friends. Given that I am in the medical field, I don't know how much room there will be for anything else. Maybe kids, someday? Running? Riding? Pets? I don't think I'll be choreographing another can-can anytime soon.

At this point, I want to devote more time to my career and calling -- to becoming a really good doctor. It takes way more time than I had anticipated. But not more time than it deserves. Because it's worse to be a lousy doctor than to not be one at all. I'm in a research lab at the moment, but the MD is the goal. I need to start thinking about my future patients: which skills do I need to acquire in order to be the doctor they would want? So until Easter, I am going to read one article or chapter every day that will make my sub-internships easier during fourth year and beyond. I am also going to spend ten minutes each morning in a lovely meditation taught to me by a friend who was also a minister a few years ago. It went something like this:

The Friend Map:
Picture a map of the United States or the globe in your mind. Picture everyone whom you carry in your heart -- friends, loved ones, colleagues, frienemies, or any other group -- as pinpoints on that map. Now scroll across the continent, sending a prayer/good wish for each person. This cultivates gratitude for their presence and a loving demeanor, both of which will strengthen your ability to weather storms. And who knows? They may sense that someone is thinking of them/praying for them.

Dr. K, Teacher and Friend

I've been away celebrating the life of a wonderful friend who happened to be one of our professors. He died when a medical center shuttle ran a red light and was hit side-on by a big-rig hauling cars. He was only 52, and he left a 5-year-old son and a 7-year-old daughter. Our entire community was left in shock at the loss. When I heard the news, I basically couldn't believe that he was gone forever. It was a heartbreaking loss, but (and this is a testimony to his amazing and bright personality), I also felt gratitude for having been one of his students. He was my advisor, and he was one of the key founders of the small case-based curriculum I went through my first three years. He was well loved by many. I didn't always agree with his perspectives, but he and I got along really well (everyone was tickled by his personality, I doubt there was anyone he didn't get along with). He was clearly a devoted teacher and loving father. He wore his heart on his sleeve in the best possible way.

Just to give you a sense of him, this was an excerpt from his last email to me:

"Ni, your letter MADE MY DAY.

thank you so much for taking the time to let me know how you are.
With all that you have to do, it's a bit of a gift from you to me.

know that I am here to help as we go forward in whatever way I can.

warmly, -k"

He was not just loving, but hypomanic (by self-admission): he did inpatient medicine, teaching, worked in Africa to further medical education there, was the curriculum and technology developer for our tiny program, and was the college advisor for over fifty medical students. He touched so many lives, but was never reserved or distant. Not long before his death, I bumped into him in the library, where he told me about mourning for his mom. They had been very close. I was amazed at how open he was with all of us, and how much of his life (especially about his family and kids) he shared. His sense of humor was outrageous but always kind and considerate (which is not an easy feat).

When I wanted to meet with him to discuss career decisions, he invited me over to his house for tea and discussed how he and his partner made his residency ranking list together so that his partner would have a say in where they lived after the Match. He encouraged me not to let board scores influence my decision about specialties. At the time, I didn't agree, but now I think I know what he meant. He had fought his whole life to do things that everyone said were impossible, and he wanted that sense of limitless possibility for me, too. He talked about his son and daughter constantly. He was just a bright, bubbly, happy person and I'm sure he wouldn't want us to be sad now. I have shed a few tears, but I am also filled with a light, beautiful sense of gratitude for his kindness and warmth that I am sure is directly inspired by him. Or Him?


Because, although I didn't know it, Dr. K was a devout Catholic. The priest said, "He was a good Catholic, and he was a true Christian. I know he is in Heaven now with his mother and father, with whom he was so close." Above is where his wake and service were held. The entire church was full. I went to the wake for family and friends because I didn't want to cry in front of people I didn't know. It was lovely to be around the staff, students, and my classmates who all knew him as well or better than I. Their warmth and support felt as though it came from K. His memorial service at the medical center was broadcast to three venues, which were all full. His students and colleagues spoke and it was clear to me that K had shared himself without hesitation with so many people.

The weekend before he died, he left me a voice mail on a Saturday night returning a call. I didn't call him back because I didn't want him to work on a weekend. I hope that the time not spent advising me was used to play with his kids or spend time with his partner. I know that their pain must dwarf ours now. It would have been nice to talk to him again before he died, but I know that Dr. K wouldn't have cared about something as trivial as that. He would simply have wanted there to be no regrets and only happy memories. That said, wasn't it amazing that he returned non-urgent student calls on Saturday night?

It really says something about a man when 300 people can say they all knew him well and loved him. It inspired me to live with joy and a sense of infinity, and to remember to follow my calling, no matter how unlikely it may seem. Thanks, K. You invested so much time in me and all those around you. You cared so much about our lives. You never said a harsh word. Now that you have moved on, we carry you with us always. We will always remember your way of living. We will always appreciate how you gave 110% of yourself. Your life was a huge success and inspiration to so many. You will be missed. And I am so utterly grateful that I knew you. I will try to be more like you going forward. Thank you for everything.

Rest in peace, dear Teacher.

Saturday Morning Flower Market!

Mimi, a school friend of mine, and I decided to spend one recent Saturday morning visiting the big downtown flower market. It's located in what couldn't be a more urban setting, since it consists of basically a parking lot surrounded by stores backing onto two huge airplane- hangar-sized warehouses. The warehouses, however, are filled with any number of beautiful stalls displaying hundreds of varieties, sizes, and colors of flowers and plants.

The early morning is reserved for professional florists with a wholesale badge, which are a hot commodity in the city and which we did not have. One of my other friends recently opened a flower shop in a small town south of the city; I wonder if she goes to the 5 am market! In any case, we wandered in after it was open to the public (trade business ends at 10 am). Since a picture can be worth a thousand words, I won't delay in sharing the rest of these with you. Needless to say, it was a beautiful and peaceful way to spend some lovely hours with my friend on a Saturday morning:

Orchids and ferns remind me of my high school years, spent in Singapore. Orchids are the Singaporean national flower, and they have one of the most beautiful orchid gardens in the world.

Our own SF Bay Area tends to be good for ferns because of the cool, foggy climate. I also enjoy growing indoor succulents and cactus, which are found naturally all over the west and southwest. Being at the flower market made me want my own garden. I'm so glad our new flat has a yard -- you can tell the family (I think mostly the Dad) gives it plenty of care and attention. I will post more pictures of home, but in the meantime, more of the astonishing beauty we found behind the cement walls of this downtown warehouse.

Each of us had a mission: I was buying flowers for our family to give my father for Father's Day, and Mimi was buying flowers for a mutual friend and colleague who is pregnant and whose waters broke early, forcing her to stay on hospital bedrest for nearly a month until her daughter is born (hopefully) safely. While finding the gift, my friend was unable to resist roses for herself before settling on a beautiful potted orchid for the hospital room!

Orchids used to be my absolute favorite flower, but B and I have a little cactus and succulent collection at home and they are quickly working their spiky little way into my heart. On a tangential note, I love my choice of vocation so far, but I have to admit that on beautiful days I do wish it took me outdoors more often. The flower market reminded me that all of this came from somewhere -- nurseries and farms up and down the state.

It is so grounding to smell and see all of these flowers and realize how close we are to growing things, even when we haven't seen any green leaves all day and are surrounded by buildings at work. I found some beautiful (but thorny! Ouch!) roses for Dad that I was commissioned to purchase on behalf of Mom via telephone, and some Dendrobium orchids on sale as well (couldn't resist). I also noticed a tiny little coffee shop anchoring the parking lot of the flower market, although we didn't try it so I can't recommend it one way or the other.


These cactuses are the citrus of the flower world: doesn't it cheer you up just to look at them? In all honesty, the prices were variable --some stalls were charging far more than I was willing to pay, and some seemed to be giving away flowers! Many of them are willing to negotiate, especially towards the end of the morning. I think the flower market is best suited to one of two things -- either you have a specific and unique type of flower in mind, because you are likely to find it (think black roses, miniature varieties of rare plants, organic purple cabbages masquerading as flowers), or you have a specific budget and are just looking for pretty flowers of any variety you can get. However, it's also a good place to cheer yourself up if you are ever feeling blue:

Or purple, or white, or really any color at all! Where do you go for beautiful flowers? How do you feel about cut flowers (do you love them, hate them, or buy them and feel guilty about them)? What about organically grown versus with pesticides? Do you grow your own? In any case, see you next week!