Bags

Saturday 5 September 2009

I just drank a “Rip it!” energy drink, so I’m typing pretty quickly. I hope you can keep up.

I’ve always had kind of a hard time deciding exactly what I wanted to do or be. I have lots of interests. At various times, I’ve wanted to be an athlete, a scholar, a doctor, a soldier, a writer, or some combination of the above. I prefer to think of myself as diversified rather than schizophrenic. My father would say that I always try to fit two pounds of manure in a one pound bag. He doesn’t use those exact words, but that’s the message. Here in Afghanistan, I have similar issues. My job is neat in that I am a part time clinician, part time researcher (trying to find optimal ways of caring for the wounded), and I have an opportunity to be in situations that can best be categorized as a direct patient care setting. The only problem is that when I’m playing one role, another duty always seems to be screaming at me for attention. I suppose we’re all constantly searching for the right balance in our lives. I can hear my father say, “it’s not about your destination, it’s the journey that defines you.”

I suppose there’s not only one thing that any of us is meant to do. When Joey asks me what he should be when he grows up, I think I’ll tell him that he should do something that interests him, that enables him to help others, then convince himself that it is that profession that makes him happy. I do know that for me, the roles of husband, father, brother, and son provide the most satisfaction. Those seem to be my bag. Until I get to play those roles again, however, I’ll carry a different kind of bag on my back and try to find the balance that does the most good. I guess that’s all any of us can do.