The secret to happiness: realizing you're luckier than you think you are

So, I survived the Molecular Basis of Health and Disease block as of today! Albeit a small milestone, I'm still really happy to be done for a few hours before physiology starts up tomorrow and to have proved to myself that I can adjust to the changing test format and schedule. I will admit though, I'm quite tired... But, thank you to all of you who wished me good luck or congratulated me. It sounds silly, but it really means a lot to me. The small things always do.

Anywhozzle, that's about as much of an update as you're going to get because as I have mentioned my personal life is about as exciting as watching ice melt. I did find a bar that carries Peg Leg this weekend though (we were studying...I promise...after we watched football). Other than that....I got nothin.

The post that I'm writing today is more philosophical in nature so for those of you who are just here for the updates and don't care about reading whatever crazy things my brain pumps out, this is your cue to stop reading.

Lately, I can't help but notice how stupidly happy I am. Moreso than at any other period in my life, I've found myself counting my blessings and and finding out how lucky I've really been.

It's funny, because my grandfather and father have coined the phrase "happiness is a choice."  My yoga and meditation experiences have revolved around the same underlying message of being thankful for what you can do and building positive energy.  It hasn't really been until lately, though, that I've truly understood how powerful and true of a statement it is.

"Happiness is a choice" is a phrase that was drilled into my brain at a young age and I saw it first hand when my Granddad had a stroke when I was in the third grade.  It was a freak, 1 in a million chance thing, his stroke. Doctors maybe gave him one to two years to live and told him he would never walk again...obviously, they underestimated my grandfather, who lived 9 more years and was able to walk up and down the stairs with the assistance of my father and a cane.  His triumph over his physical illness wasn't what was the most amazing to me though:  the man that threw a football around, shot basketball, and played tag with my cousin, sister, and I was wheelchair bound and didn't have one bad thing to say. He never complained. He never blamed anyone else for his condition. He was a living example of his own phrase, each and every day, up until the day that he died.

That is perhaps the first thing I consider myself blessed for:  having excellent role models who taught me to count my blessings.  I'm not sure how many of you have heard of Acts of Faith by Eboo Patel, if you haven't...it's worth the read.  However,  Eboo's main point is that the way an individual turns out depends on who has taught them, and what they have been taught by the people that have influenced them most.  I can't place enough emphasis on how lucky I am to have been taught hard work, empathy, selflessness, kindness, tolerance, having an open mind, and most importantly: love. I find that these are all components of my own happiness--the more I practice love, the harder I work, and the more I open myself to the world of possibilities...the happier I am.

Basically, I can have a really shitty day or have something really shitty done to me. It's okay that I get mad, upset, frustrated...but what's important is that at the end of the day, I come back to counting all of the great things, great people, and great friends that I have--that I focus on the good that I can do for other people, not just worrying about myself. Life goes on, go on with it. In my 22 years, I've found that the wall that I felt like I just ran into had a doorknob that I didn't see because I was too busy being pissed off at the world to look for it.  Turn it.

This brings me to point two:  When you realize that YOU don't matter, and that you owe the world instead of it owing you...that's when you'll be happy. That's a favorite of Dad's as well.  I always appreciated the phrase, but I didn't really "get it" until I was mid-meditation one night and it finally clicked.  You can stress over how people perceive you, if you're well liked, whatever. You can be preoccupied with all of the things that are entirely beyond your control and in the end not move an inch. Between meditation, yoga, and this phrase, I've come up with the ultimate conclusion. Hell no, I don't matter. I'm never going to be able to control how people think about me, I'm never going to be able to control what they say or do. That's okay, I don't want to. It's not social status, it's not what other people want you to be. It's about realizing that that shit doesn't matter anyway and it's not anything that you should waste your time on because it will never make you happy. It's out of your control. Let it be.

When you let go of this overwhelming pressure to fit in, to be whoever society or who people want you to be because you realize that YOU don't matter (aka, your "reputation," I guess for lack of a better word), it's so much easier to just be yourself.  The things that do matter: doing the right thing, doing for others, and doing the best that you can for this world...whatever that is.  The more you focus on those things instead of how the world perceives you (because oh honey there's always gonna be someone that doesn't like you for who knows what reason)--it's amazing how much better you feel and how much easier it is to love yourself for all of the wonderful things you can do.

I've found that sharing love is the fertilizer for love itself and that the only person stopping you from growing a garden is yourself. Negativity, wishing ill on those who wish ill on you is toxic to that garden. Once again, you can't control them. Let it go. Don't harbor your own poison.

I guess, lastly, I'm so lucky to have people that make me better and help me grow each and every day. You know who you are. I'm thankful for the people that have knocked me down, just because you've shown me how to get up with 10x the strength as before-you're part of the reason that I'm sitting here writing this right now.  I'm lucky to have gone to an undergrad institution that taught me to be an independent thinker and gave me the best education I could have ever asked for, and I'm thankful to be part of such an amazing institution as VCU.  Hell, I'm even thankful for being in the city because I know when I see those blue ridge mountains this weekend it's going to take my breath away.  I'm thankful, to just be sitting here, breathing and thinking...to grow up in a time where I can make a difference and to take the world by storm.

The world isn't going to create conditions for your happiness. You have to create them.

-Marguerite

Life is a jumble and so is this post.

For those of you that know me, you know that I rarely go into anything in life with a plan because let's be real... I hate plans, for the most part. Why should I do this first blog post any differently?

Sidenote: My Meyers-Briggs type is ENFP according to the personality test VCU made me take...scarily accurate, and my perceiving score, or the P of the ENFP (aka the thing that represents my inability to plan or be organized and instead just go with it) was so high I got called out in class as an example. Sorry for all of my friends who are J's and like solid planning. And organization. That too.

A few starting statements:
1)  Sometimes, this blog will be about my life.
2) Sometimes, this blog will be about whatever happens to be going through my head that day...this can include anything from provoking thoughts to things I've written about in my personal journal to philosophical jumbles that occasionally spew from my mouth (or hands, in this case).
3) I will try and keep those interested in reading posted with updates about med school, adventures, and my personal life (warning: my personal life won't excite you because it essentially exists of studying, sleeping, eating, gym-ing, and showering for right now)
4) Occasionally, if I take them, there will be photos!
5) It's my goal to update this thing once a week. Bear with me as med school calls and I barely have time to faceplant into my pillow at night because it's bound to happen...especially with pharmacology -cue whimpering and fearful sounds-

OKAY! So let's get started. What is it that I want to talk about today?

How about this: I'll start out with a quick update about life.

For those of you just joining this adventure of mine, I started medical school at the VCU SOM back in August (and for those of you REALLY just starting, it has been my dream to go to medical school since I was 15 after shadowing Dr. Brown for the first time as a high school sophomore).  Most of my time is spent in what I like to call my textbook cave...which is really just my laptop and a binder and condensed notes spread out over my tiny desk, but that's okay.  So far, I really like the school. I made a really solid group of friends back in June when I was here for the prematriculation program, and I'm really thankful for that. I've met incredibly awesome people so far--and yes, we do go have fun sometimes!

Oh, oh, I passed my first exam too. Considering I didn't do so well in the prematriculation program, that was a big deal for me. Most of you who know me know that I am unbelievably thankful for all of my experiences at Roanoke College and I wouldn't trade it for anything in this world, but, multiple choice tests aren't my thing...especially after having all short answer and essay questions for four years. I know my stuff and I know how to apply and see the big picture...buuuttt, regurgitation and choosing A, B, C or D really aren't my forte. I know that sounds strange, but hey, that's my life.

Things I'm good at: big picture (as I mentioned), tying things together, and patient skills. I love interviewing, probably because Dr. Brown decided to scare the crap out of college freshman Marguerite and throw her into patients rooms by herself and made her conduct interviews...and, occasionally, attempt to make Dxs. I love it!

Don't get me wrong, most of the time I think that I can do it. However, I have moments when I genuinely think that VCU picked the wrong file to choose for admittance back in February and I have the mild spaz attack of "I can't regurgitate I should've gone to grad school."  I can tell you though that I have caved and started looking at grad school programs in one of said spaz attacks...and, well, it didn't feel right. Do I want to do research here? Yes, I would love to IF I don't get the latin american outreach trip that I want this summer.  I think there's something else that I need, some other piece other than being just a physician...whatever that piece is. Sometimes I think it's being an environmental advocate, sometimes I think it's doing research on top of clinic, sometimes I think it's trying to barge into congress and tell them they're not doctors and they don't know what the hell they're talking about in terms of healthcare. Other times I think that my "extra" calling at that point of my life will be my bed as I'm a month into first year and I'm already pretty exhausted. We'll see, life's a journey...so why should this be any different? I'm slowly learning the only way to conquer challenges is by stopping the "I can't" bullshit and just doing it, even if it means faceplanting into the ground sometimes. I'll learn how not to faceplant next time (or, at least, I hope so).

Hmmm...Richmond. Richmond is cool, much different from the big bad worlds of Covington and Roanoke...I love the diversity, and the food here (and beer...Sam Smith's Organic Chocolate Stout is at one of my favorite bars!) is excellent. I love the culture and the opportunities to experience it--let's be real, the flower child's favorite thing is diversity. However, this flower child's other favorite thing is nature and there's really none of that here. I miss my mountains. I miss hiking terribly. I need some nature therapy ASAP, and maybe some horse therapy when I can fit it in. I'm looking forward to escaping the concrete jungle and getting lost in the forest.

Okay, eventually, I'll write more. But as of right now, I have a date with genetics that I'm late for (sorry, bae).

Take home message: ultreia. I'm focusing on what I can do in the here and now, learning from the past, and trying to be as positive as I can about the future. I've tried to stop the whole complaining thing too, because the way I see it...I'm just gonna complain about being tired for the rest of my life, and well, that gets redundant. No one likes redundancy, or bitching.

Toodaloo, ta-ta for now!

Marguerite