thy will be done.

This weekend I was fortunate to be able to fly up to Rhode Island to visit my maternal grandmother (Memere, pronounced Mem-ay) and (most of) the rest of that side of my family. It was wonderful. All of it. And while I was sitting there in mass on Sunday morning, the priest said something that really stuck with me in his homily...and maybe it's because I was sitting next to Memere or maybe because I was being nostalgic for that Woonsocket church where my parents were married or maybe because I knew I was leaving all of it in five hours time. But regardless it took all my strength to not be total waterworks for the rest of mass.

"Thy will be done"

It was a homily based on the Lord's Prayer. A prayer we spout off without even thinking most of the time. A prayer for mercy, that I clung to when I was sick, that I honestly don't think much about otherwise. Back then I clung to the "give us this day... And deliver us from evil" parts. The needy sick parts. The "give me" and "save me" parts. But this preist made us think about the other not-so-fun parts. "Thy will be done." It's not everything happens for a reason. It's just going to happen. Blink, and it's already done.

It sounds almost non-religious when you think of it in that sense. And I guess you could think of it either way. It all, just, happens. By divine intervention or not, life goes on. People get sick. People get stranded. People make decisions. People love you or don't love you. Someone loses their job. Someone else get's their dream job at age 65. Children are abandoned or cherished. People die.

But it does help when you think of some higher power controlling it all, I suppose. Because otherwise, it makes your whole life seem pretty pointless, right? What would I want with a God who planted that damn brain tumor or let my sweet Grandpa die before his time? It is impossible not to question where is the mercy, the justice? Thinking that God's will may be outside of our own interests or understanding is a bitter pill to swallow. It's a lump in our throat. It leaves us with more questions than answers. And that is just plain uncomfortable.

No matter what we may want, things are just going to keep happening. It is mostly out of our control. But in a broader sense, in the presence or absence of a higher power (though I prefer the former), we do have some control. Maybe not of the broad strokes that form the backdrop of our lives. But of the smaller details. Of extra hugs and kisses and smiles. Of acts of kindness and charity. Of how we invest our time. It is not that we can stop the flood or keep that tumor at bay, but it is in how we choose to navigate our lives against that backdrop of this constantly changing scenery. We must accept that "thy will be done"(or in the very least that we are powerless to nature's course) or we will be stuck, minds milling in frustration and sadness, for the rest of our lives.

I cried and cried when I left my grandmother and the rest of my family to take that plane back to Knoxville later that Sunday. I am 25 years old and I was a mess. All I kept thinking was how every time you see someone, you never know if it is the last time you'll hear their voice or smell their hair. Even if that person is someone you see every day, but more importantly if it is not. It makes me want to hug Memere and never let go. It makes me wish I could teleport places and that I didn't have so much ambition keeping me away from the people I love all the time.

But "thy will be done" somehow brought me some semblance of solace yesterday. I was able to leave knowing that no matter where I am or what I do... the bad and the good... it's all going to keep on happening whether I am there or not. My only job being to cherish the moments that are under my control. Love big and live well. Navigate all of this inevitable change with (clumsy) grace. Take time to listen to that voice and remember the smell of that hair. The sound of a rousing game of Parcheesi (and those dang triple sixes). The taste of Dinamites and that sly smile when Dean Martin is on. That four year cousin old playing the ukulele while I dance with Uncle Jim and that sweet grandmother taking it all in. I will cherish it all. And I will do all I can to see the beauty in those broad strokes He paints, even if the picture is yet unfinished.

Liv

up.

So my sister is dating this guy who loooooves to rock climb. (Indoors, outdoors, bouldering, with a harness/rope, all of it...) And so when I came back to Knoxville for the summer for these two rotations, she was all about getting me to try it. Even though I am terrified of heights and have developed the wimpy-est arms in lieu of not sticking to my yoga routine. Even though I had "like no time"cause I was always working, and when I wasn't working, sleeping. Even though I thought I'd look like a big ol' dork. Even though sometimes competitive sports type activities with my sister can be an awful idea.

Even though all of those things and more, I tried it. And I was hooked.

Not instantly, mind you, but gradually over time as I could feel myself getting stronger and less scared. Man, that time I made it to the top of that first V0 (the easiest bouldering course) I was so proud of myself. And then when I made it to the top of a couple more, I smiled even bigger.

Now, these are super super beginner level climbs, but it doesn't matter because rock climbing is just one big competition with yourself. Not that I don't "ohh" and "ahh" at those baller girls my age (and older) with the incredible back muscles and calves who can dominate anything they put their mind to... 'cause I do. But I have to admit, when you've been trying to get that V1 for the past week and you FINALLY get it, you feel pretty baller yourself. Like a pro. High-fives all around and then on to the next one.

Sometimes though, it is easy to get discouraged. Like yesterday Kamry and I, being the beginners of the group, harnessed up and climbed the big, tall wall. (At least I don't pee my pants any more thinking about going that high!) And let me just tell you, I didn't think it was possible to get bilateral forearm cramps, but now I know better. And after we were done Kamry had some wise words.. she said "Olivia, when I get stuck and think I can't possibly reach the next hold or push off that leg or climb anyyyy higher, I just tell myself to 'stop being a little b**ch'." Slightly vulgar, I suppose, but it gets the job done just fine.

And we hear those little clichés all the time, don't we? The "suck it ups" and "just do its." The "when the going gets toughs" and all of the rest of them. Sometimes it just hurts and you just CAN'T. Except that you can...

You always can.

It's thinking like this that gets me through any rough day or troubling night. And keeps me pushing forward. Even if it's just the super super beginner level, I always smile every time I push through and reach the top. Every time I stand up on my leg one more time to reach that next rock.  Every time I don't quit. It's not a race with everyone else, but a competition with myself to keep trying and trying and trying...

Life is just one long, tiring, but beautiful, climb.

And I'm going to stop that metaphor right there, 'cause that could get really cheesy, really quickly. (And I think it already did.) But y'all get the point. Don't be a little you-know-what. You have to tell yourself to "man up" and just keep going. Not because anyone else tells you not to or because they are cheering you on, but because it's THE ONLY WAY. Even though you may think of soooo many reasons why you can't. Even though you may be tired as all heck. Even though you feel self-conscious. even though you might fail. Even though all of that.

The only way is UP.

Liv

I've got my ticket for the long way 'round
The one with the prettiest of views
It's got mountains, it's got rivers
It's got sights to give you shivers
But it sure would be prettier with you

When I'm gone, when I'm gone
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone
You're gonna miss me by my walk
You're gonna miss me by my talk, oh
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone

constant change.

And once again the slate is wiped clean. I am done with surgery and walking in the shoes of a pediatrician for the next two months. It's all new. No one knows me, expects me to do great things, act like I am here to learn. It is earning that respect by working my butt off all over again, and it will be for the rest of my life, I guess.

It will be for the rest of my (academic) career at least.

The life of a medical student and resident is literally that of constant change. Just when you learn how one attending likes his notes written and presented. boom. you switch. Try not to get to comfortable because the rug is about to be pulled out from underneath you once again. (Dang, and I had just really learned how to use the staple gun properly, too....)

I think that is something so special and unique about medicine. Everyone is constantly learning, evolving. New drugs come out, new protocols, even new diseases. You've got to be able to think on your toes and adapt. You can never get lazy and complacent because that could be someone's life, or at least their comfort, that you hold in your hands.

I both kind of love and it absolutely hate it. Because really it's only a rare moment here and now when you actually feel like you know what the heck is going on and you are doing something 100% correct (without having to ask a nurse...or a patient, in my case, to help you operate a child's crib.) Most of the time we are on the receiving end of "are you lost?" comments and I'm sure even more sideways glares from people who actually DO know what they are doing, because they have done it every day of their adult lives (just try and remember that sometimes, please?)

But today at least, and more importantly, I was on the receiving end of a toddler's smile. And while I may have tried my hardest on that discharge note only to fail miserably at guessing which antibiotic to send that baby home on (in the end, it turn's out, none),  I didn't have to try and see the wonder in all that was happening around me. I mean, sick, but smiling kids, pretty much make the world seem all okay. If they can do it, I can handle a little change now and then. (Because, really I've done it before, and I think we've established that I did mostly okay.)

Nobody said it was going to be easy. (Really they just said to run while I had the chance.) But I could not imagine myself anywhere else but in this crazy whirlwind I am about to call life for the next 5-7 years. (Yep that's right boys, start lining up now... scrubs and 4 hours of sleep and no free time is attractive to other people right??!)

Peace out girl scouts.
Liv

But I don't want "good" and I don't want "good enough"
I want "can't sleep, can't breathe without you" love
Front porch and one more kiss, it doesn't make sense to anybody else
Who cares if you're all I think about,
I've searched the world and I know now,
It ain't right if you ain't lost your mind
Yeah, I don't want easy, I want crazy
You with me baby? Let's be crazy