A lucky day.

A lucky day. 

Lucky, first on a personal level, because I got to go to work at 11 this morning, meaning that I had the rare opportunity to sit at home and watch in entirety the inauguration of Barak Obama as the 44th President of the United States. 

It was a beautiful, moving, ceremony. His star power as a politician is simply astonishing. Never before have I felt so much congruent support from famous people across America for one man. At times it almost appears that he was a gift to the world as the exact symbol that is needed at this very time. As the son of a black man and white mother, with a middle name of Hussein and Christianity as his religion, he somehow embodies all the crucial political factors at play in the world today. It seems that in a world so divided, if any one can carry the promise of moving us towards a fix, it would be him. Regardless of what he actually does with is administration, he is already becoming larger than simply one president. Deserving or not, he has became a concept, one that people openly embrace when they feel like there is not much left in their world to believe in. With that somewhat unfair expectation, he has already sent shock waves across nations, and initiated the engine for positive thinking. So much good may come of it just from this one simple ignition spark. 

I enjoyed listening to his speech. It was not a very long speech, but long enough. It was not a very moving speech, but it carried enough soul. And since I love word-play, and I love looking at carefully crafted sentences with subtle intentions, I wanted to highlight a few favorite quotes from sections of his inauguration address today. They were wonderfully written, thoughtfully arranged, and perfectly executed. Obama is such a wonderful orator. It's been a long time since we had one of these. 

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As soon as he began his speech, he wasted no time in diving into the seriousness of his administration. I thought that was perfect, for this does not seem to be a time for empty promises with emotional appeals anymore. We need much more substance from the get-go. 

"That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood. Our nation is at war, against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred. Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age... "

To continue with the somewhat sombre beginning, he corrected identifies with the American people that, as much as they are all hopeful today, their moods are low, and outlooks seem bleak. 

"...Less measurable but no less profound is a sapping of confidence across our land — a nagging fear that America's decline is inevitable, and that the next generation must lower its sights..."

As the first black American to become president, I liked how he steered clear of directly referencing that point. Instead, I thought it was quite subtle that he highlighted references to slavery alongside other historic references of the struggled of the non-blacks in America history. This gave unity, without being disrespectful to the significance of the day. 

"...For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth...."

He gave clear reminders, that although people's confidence might be low, that as a nation they are no less powerful than they were before, and those virtues must not be forgotten in order to move forward. I thought that the American people probably really needed this reminder. 

"...We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished...."

He also reminded the American people not to lay blame, for that can be counter-productive. He highlighted accountability, at a time when the American people needed to hear that word the most. 

"...Nor, is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control — and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favours only the prosperous...."

And then he reached out, more than I've seen in so many other people. And I almost want to believe that somehow if anyone could do it, it would be him.

"For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus — and no-believers..."

Particularly, I thought it was real graceful how he lay down his premise on how he sees his future relationship with the Muslim world, in a way that would make it hard for any human being to refute him. 

"To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect...."

And to other powerful angry nations, I like how he reach out from the angle of peace, as opposed to using fire against fire. 

"...To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist...."

Finally, he reminded the American people that the journey ahead is not his own to take, but that all the people have the responsibility to take part. This was actually quite apparent throughout the whole speech, that he basically began his Presidency by saying, despite times being hard and that people probably needed a saviour, that he is not here to act as a one-man saviour, but only as a leader to lead an entire nation towards positive changes that shall benefit future generations. He is essentially removing himself as the bearer of all responsibility, therefore making any future successes or failures the consequences of the country's collective wisdom. I thought that was very wise, indeed. 

"This is the price and the promise of citizenship...."

Finally, at the very hand, he marked the occasion by provide the only one clear reference to his African-American background. 

"This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed — why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall, and why a man whose father less than sixty years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath."

He did not finish off with a bang. I was quite surprised. I was hoping for a string of emotional rhetoric that would drive people into tears and a standing ovation as he wraps up. But it did not happen. In fact it felt it ended quite abruptly. But to be honest, the entire duration was emotionally charged, and there might not be any more room for a climax. 

"...Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations...."

A Vancouver Sun headline today insightfully identifies that President Obama's first speech was written "from the head, not the heart". I think it was the right tone to strike. For months now America and the rest of the world had ridden high on hopes and dreams and positive expectations. Their emotional investment is clear, and providing more hype with hype isn't going to bring us forward. Poetry is no longer needed, for he is already the President. I think Obama identified that today in his tone. He is grateful, for all the hopes and dreams we associate him with, but now he is here with work to be done, and from the moment he began his speech, he has chosen to get seriously down to business. 

He is, it seems, very, very grounded. 

What a wonderful moment in history. We'll see where this takes us. 

The sweetest gift.

Thank you, thank you to such wonderful dear friends. 

It is always true, that one should hold on to his close friends, because they are often hard to come by, and when they're around, they help support his world. 

Today I had a few good friends come over for dinner. I had wanted to keep it small because I wanted to make an intimate dinner. 

I like to cook, but never have the chance to. With this in mind, I basically did nothing but prepare dinner on this fine Saturday (I explored some recipes, slowly, then shopped, ever so slowly, then tried to do some reading but quickly reverted back to preparing the dinner, slowly.) It was a fun exercise, and even though cooking for 7 people is hardly a challenge for most people, I felt that the multi-tasking took a lot of focus. Everything had to be well timed if I were to be able to pay some attention to my guests when they came while I continued to prepare dinner. When should I put the lamb in the oven? When should I roast the potatoes? When should I fire up the pasta? What about appetizers? And drinks? It was all very fun to try to pull off. I felt like I was on Iron Chef with a timer on my back. 

But it went very well, and I think my friends liked it. After dinner, Amy and Kalie served their awesome pastries desserts. And they gave me a wonderful concept for a birthday present. They had known that I had once envisioned throwing my first photo exhibit before I turned 30. In any case, now that I am 30, they are going to throw me my first photo exhibit. February 7th, 2oo9, ladies and gentlemen, mark your calenders, for my friends are bring newleaf to life. 

It's scary. It feels unclear. I'm not exactly sure how it is going to happen, and what expectations there are. I have no clue what entails a successful 

photo exhibit. I will have some exploring to do. It is a great concept, for if 

they do not push me, I may happily sit around and not do anything like this for another decade. But it is happening, and it is wonderful, even just for me. 

Thank you, guys. It's wonderfully thoughtful, and just what I need to kick start my 30s. 

Bye-bye twenty-something.

And so that's thirty years, eh? And I still feel like I'm stuck at the stage of a teenager, to some extend. 

I can't say that I'm not disappointed at not being able to call myself "twenty-something" anymore. To me, 20's respresents an age of discovery, of growth and exploration, and of being bold enough to be adventurerous while not yet wise enough to be afraid of them. It is a time when the crazy stories would happen, the "I cannot believe I did that" occurs, and when life seems young forever and that that the world would always be my oyster no matter what. It's a time of great learning and self-reflection, of soaking up the world like a sponge but not knowing quite what to do with all the information. It is about limitless opportunities for failures and new beginnings, and having "all the time in the world" without having to make up my about how to live the rest of my life. 

It's about the junction between youth and maturity, because "twenty-something" sounds young enough, but at the same time conveys that you are also an adult capable of adult-things, of adult-thoughts. 

And it seems a little sad that I might be waving goodbye to all that. But that is of course before I realize that our world is changing, and what was the old "twenty-something" is quickly expanding into today "thirty-something".

In fact, more than one person have already told me (probably in sympathy, but nice to hear nonetheless), that their thirties were the best part of their lives. Hooray. 

In my thirties, I shall learn to listen to myself more. I shall learn to know how to reach out for help, and actually listen to other people's advice for a change. I shall lay to rest some of my internal struggles that could not be solved in the last decade, and open my arms to opportunities the world toss out at me. I shall learn to keep a blueprint in my mind, but yet not so fixated on following it that I miss out on wonderful detours. I shall forget about trying to find my destiny, and let destiny discover me instead. 

This will be a decade when a lot of important events would occur. I would enter the work-force no longer as a trainee, and start to make a living to start building my life. If all goes well I will meet my significant other and get married sometime down the road. I will have my own place as the foundation of building a new home. I will explore new learning opportunities in whatever that inspires me and continue to settle into "a calling". I will likely be open to many opportunities to seek out the world and actually have the means of doing it. If all goes well I should be on the verge of a wonderful decade. 

Happy thirtieth. It has only just began. 

Job, Passion, or Obsession?

I used to tell my friend, "I am nothing if not passionate."

How did I led myself to this? Where's the passion? Where's the obsession? 

Why am I not approaching medicine, my work and supposingly career passion, as I do with visual art? Why do I not have the same obsessive approach over every minor details the way I do when I work on a piece of photograph, for example? 

I remember when I was young, I loved graphic design and desktop publishing, and I would obsess over every piece of design layout until I was completely satisfied. At that time, every shade of grey would be scrutinized, every curve measured, and every piece aligned until it gave the most striking visual impact. I would design a page, digest it, wait for inspiration, and redesign it some more. I could skip meals, I would stay in, I would forget my outside world until I have a design I was proud of. Every little bit of imperfection would have driven me crazy. 

Today, when it comes to photography, I find myself displaying the same careful mannerism. Even when it comes to writing, I feel, I have the same obsessive approach of wanting my sentences to strike just the right tone, the right nerve, the right feel. It's the same when I cook, as I obsess over each dish's flagrance, taste, texture, and visual appeal. And then, when I have it all perfect, I would sit back and admire my work. Proud and satisfied, I tell myself that it was a job well done. 

I don't know how, but when it comes to my work, I feel I lack the same level of obsession that makes me such a perfectionist in other areas of life. I try to do a good job, because I feel that I have to be a responsible physician, because I am entrusted to do it well, and because I am generally good a performing when I know I am being assessed.

Like today, for example, when I got off work early. I went to a local drug store and spent an hour on the shelves studying every kind of over-the-counter pediatric pain and cold remedies they sell, just so that I know what I'm talking about to my patients. But I did that because I felt I should, not because I had the dying urge to do so. 

The inner flame, the drive that makes me want to go that extra mile beyond merely being a responsible learner, seems to be missing. When I am done my work, I am more than happy to move on to my hobbies. My interests and my work thus lay separate in my mind. No matter how I tried to merge them before, my work is not my passion. Not entirely, not yet, at least. 

It's not that I don't enjoy being a doctor. In fact, what I have discovered this year is how much I really do enjoy the role of being a doctor. But I guess that's what drove me into this field. It's able being the kind of person I want to be, to be able to when help is needed, to have an approach to things I see around me. I guess I am obsessed at being that certain someone, but my obsession isn't quite coming through in my day-to-day operations. 

These days, I would often find myself surprised, but equally impressed, when I hear about others being so devoted to the work that they do. Such as when they cannot sleep, the would lie in bed thinking about their work the next day. Not out of annoyance of their work, but because they are excited about what lies ahead. Maybe they're doing a presentation, maybe they have an important client meeting, or maybe they feel that they're onto something big and really want to see it through. It is hypocritical, here I am, often feeling sorry for myself when I get stuck being busy on call and have to stay late, when there are others my age putting themselves on the line and work late in their offices without being asked to. Somehow, through our so-called difficult training process, we have (we, for I do not think I am alone on this) became so entitled that we feel we are always being over-worked, always being unfair to, and would jump at every opportunity to slip away from work. I guess it is part a survival technique that we felt we had to develop through clerkship and residency. But I am starting to feel that this survival technique is swaying me away from the true essence of being a doctor, and ultimately, from loving my job. 

You cannot love being there, when your survival instincts fire up every time you show up for work. 

Throughout medical school and residency, many older, wiser doctors have kindly reminded me and my colleagues, that "this is just a job". For years I did not want to believe them, but today I am starting to. But I'm sad to. I do not want to believe them. I still want to believe there is something greater out there than simply living everyday by just "doing your job".