Somewhere along the way this blog became something I hadn’t planned for it. Not long afterward my life underwent a drastic, though anticipated, change. Between the inadequacy of the blog in its previous format to encompass all that I need it to, and the enormity of obligations it now has to fit around something had to give.
I’ve been reflecting for quite some time on the how…
- There will be writing.
- There will be tasteful, measured exploration of the weighty things I deal with at work from time to time.
- There will be soul food – books, writing, art, music and imagination.
- It will be a sanctuary.
Inspiration comes from the strangest places. Some came from you, readers who have probably long forgotten me, and your inimitable encouragement of my original works. They were, in all honesty, a by-product of the blog. I have resolved, thanks to you, to devote more time to writing. Some came from the understanding that the crazy messed up world I work in needs a creative outlet – I am now a junior doctor in a large public hospital. And some I have dug up from the past. I recently watched the new adaptation of Great Expectations and fell in love with Wemmick all over again. You see, Wemmick separates his home life from his work life in such a way as to have different opinions depending on the role he is acting in. Newgate and the office do not pervade Walworth and the castle (his home) and vice versa. If you are unfamiliar with Great Expectations or can’t remember Wemmick, this passage is one of my favourite moments in the book.
Here, we come to the re-naming of this space.
The nature of my work is that things are busy. I consider I am doing my job well if I am doing the greatest good for the greatest number. That’s the nature of the public health system. Unfortunately, it also means I can’t be as extravagant and generous with my time as I would like to be. I listen for salient information. Redirect tangents. Cut stories short. I remember problems better than I remember names – though faces, thank goodness, still stick. I walk fast. I forget to introduce myself in the interest of completing tasks as quickly as possible. Some of this habits are teething problems, I’m sure. But plenty of them are professional necessities.
I will work odd hours. I will miss the important life events of those who are dear to me, at the mercy of a roster that is subject to change. Every 10 weeks I will have a new boss and a new set of clinical problems to unravel. And I love it!
In this space, however, I hope I can remember the other parts of me while taking my time and indulging my values. And so, in the spirit of Wemmick, I welcome you to my Walworth sentiments.