My first goal is to be rich.

Not rich in the sense of Warren Buffett/Donald Trump– although that would be nice– but rich in the context of my own life.  Frankly I consider it “being comfortable” rather than “being rich,”  but I also realize that I am already incredibly wealthy in comparison to individuals in developing nations, and I might as well recognize that the ideals I strive for encompass far more than the basic necessities.  Why is this the first goal I’ve chosen?  It’s not more important than health or happiness, but the metrics are much easier to track.  Also, all three are intertwined, and I have to start somewhere.

Lack of money can create stress, force uncomfortable decisions, and generally introduce quite a bit of uncertainty into life.  While more money does not necessarily make you happier beyond a certain point, having enough money for the basics may allow you to escape some stressors and generally lead a more fulfilling life.

Early on (say about 8th grade?), I realized that in order to feel secure, I needed to achieve a level of earning power that would not limit my options– to learn, to travel, to make a positive impact in my community.  That’s a vague goal, to be sure, but it’s one that works for me personally.  Money is only as good as what you spend it on, and although it’s backwards in a way, I’ll start with a focus on the spending part and follow up with dollar estimates in a later post.

Money and Family

Today, many families are forced to choose between an education for their children, or nursing care for aging parents. As early as high school, my female peers started talking about  marrying rich, instead of marrying for love.  Maybe I was more idealistic than most at that age, but hearing such sentiments just rubbed me the wrong way.   I’ve also witnessed firsthand the devastation of families when the primary wage-earner has a catastrophic accident, and can no longer work– in the worst cases, social services gets involved, children are placed in foster care, and both parents spiral into depression.  (I’m not referring to my own family, thank goodness, but to patients I’d cared for throughout my clinical years.)

I’m not afraid to admit that I’m scared of having to make such a decision.  I don’t believe that Social Security or Medicare will actually provide any benefit to my parents’ generation, let alone my own.  And you know what?  I may be overly cautious, but confronting that fear and taking steps to prevent it go a long way toward my psychological security.

I felt that I would be ready for a family only when I could provide for all of us on my salary alone.  Maybe this is more of a masculine perspective, but that begs the question, why should it be? The females of most species tend to be the nurturing, caring ones, seeing to the needs of family members.  Why, in a money-based economy, should that responsibility not extend to financial nurturing and caring?

Money and Love

For all my pragmatism, I’m also an unabashed romantic.  Even before I wanted to settle down in a serious relationship, I kept thinking, “What if my perfect man is an penniless artist/writer/musician?”  If push came to shove, and I had to make a choice between an amazing partner who couldn’t support himself, and someone ok who was more responsible, I’m not really sure I could find an effective compromise.  My financial goals were designed to avoid that crossroads, and luckily I found the perfect partner who is creative AND responsible.  He also happens to be financially savvy and either one of us could support a family on our salary alone.

Now that I’ve achieved a level of earnings that allow me to save significantly for retirement as well as healthcare costs, I feel a lot more comfortable.  Current goals include continuing to save towards retirement while increasing my nest egg for a down payment, and educational costs for our future children.

Money and Career

If I won the lottery tomorrow, I know exactly what I’d do with the money– I’d quit my current job but definitely wouldn’t stop working.  My work/life balance is quite enjoyable, and my personality is well-suited by having projects to keep my mind engaged.

While my job is currently a way for me to learn valuable transferable skills while furthering my financial goals, I want to get to a point where I can do good AND do well.  The golden handcuffs are ok for now, but by starting up my new social venture in parallel, I hope to transition sooner rather than later– ideally in the next several years.

Rich isn’t a number, it’s a state of mind.  I’m quite happy with my current situation, but as my environment changes, I must continue to adjust in order to maintain that level of contentment and security. Maybe you can’t buy happiness, but you can definitely earn it.

What does “rich” mean to you?

Image sources: 1, 2, 3

Ever since I abruptly truncated that plan a couple years ago post-graduation, my long-term focus has become, well, more unfocused.  I love the liberation from tests and schedules and deadlines, but it’s just my personality to feel more secure with a long-term goal.  Instead of being constrained by academic guidelines, I can now define my own timelines and take time to explore side paths along the way.  That’s not to say my goals won’t change, but at least I’ve got something to work towards.  Why start there?  An end is more easily influenced than a beginning.  Don’t know about you, but I haven’t figured out a way to turn back time.

What do I want?  For me,  a large component of happiness includes  autonomy.  I don’t like feeling hemmed in, and even mistakes are more palatable if they’re my own rather than a result of a forced choice.  Almost every decision I make is based upon the freedom it gives me to make smart investments at a future date.

More specifically, I want to be able to make valuable contributions to my community, and also enjoy the security of knowing that my family is provided for.  A lot of my perspective is colored by my experiences in healthcare– I’ve seen adults have to choose between supporting their aging parents or provide better opportunities for their children, and that’s a choice I don’t want to make.

My vision includes a great partner to enjoy life with, a house to raise our future children in, quality time spent with family and friends, and a challenging career that is both interesting and doesn’t exclude any of the previous things.  In essence, what I’m working toward is a feeling, not a set of material milestones.  While assets are undoubtably helpful in achieving security, money is only a means to an end.

Taking stock of my current position, I’m in good shape, considering I thought it would take me several more years to get here… but that’s all the more reason to continue working on the other elements.  Hence, my consideration of a career change (although not as drastic a shift as the previous one) even in this turbulent environment.   Sometimes the unexpected moves turn into the best opportunities.

So, plan your goals first, then figure out an exit strategy to get you there.  If you’re not certain of the endpoint, it helps to take a path that leaves the most number of attractive options open.  And even if you are certain, be flexible and remember to evaluate opportunities that come up along the way. Detours can lead to some pretty incredible sights you might’ve missed.

Related posts:

(Re)Invention Roadmap

Image from Brittanica.

Evaluating my path as I traverse the distance from point A to point B is nothing new– I’ve also revised my destination enough that I’m more comfortable with change than stasis.  (A large portion of that can be attributed to my personality as well.)

However, I’m loath to call this next turning point, or any of the previous ones, a reinvention.  To me, that word is associated with mid-life crises, U-turns to correct ineffective decisions, and self-help books.  While reinvention is a useful process for those who have progressed too far in what they may see as the wrong direction, making the call to take the correct exit at the right time is an entirely different matter altogether.

I’ve yet to see an industry spring up around inventing yourself in a satisfying manner the first time around… and while I’ve made my share of mistakes, I think I’m young enough to escape the mid-life crisis label.  It’s all about perspective, right?

I prefer to think of my evaluation process as inventing my path forward, utilizing the various skills and knowledge I’ve gained to date,  rather than a revision of prior decisions that now need to be recast in a different light.  Maybe the distinction is subtle, but it has a considerable impact on the way I formulate my approach going forward.

Every time I make a career move, I get more introspective for a time, recrystallizing my story and highlighting the elements most relevant to my targeted future undertakings.   What better time to refocus the blog as I concentrate on my past and present strategies?

(Incidentally, I find it somewhat appropriate that I’m posting this on Easter, a day of resurrection.)

Would love comments/suggestions re lessons you’ve learned in similar situations, or particular topics I should highlight!

Yes, objects are as close as they appear.

A year ago, this was the view from the front door of my SF bachelorette pad.  It was 3 blocks from restaurants, boutiques, and bars, and a block from the water.  Although the parking was a nightmare, overall it was the best city living I could ask for.  Great food, cool culture, and romantic adventures were all at my fingertips.

One thing made it difficult, though– the lack of my boyfriend.  Now, I definitely would consider myself highly independent, and not a clingy type at all.  But it got to the point where, on weeknights, I would come home late from work and just kill time watching TV or reading until our nightly phone call.  Although 20 minutes long, that phone call was my favorite part of the day, and I couldn’t unwind properly until I’d heard about his day and shared my stories with him.

Weekends were an emotional rollercoaster.  I loved the fact that we were together first thing in the morning, and last thing at night, but separating at the end of our precious two days together was so hard.  I kept telling myself that it was easier to have 2 apartments, it made more sense with our job locations, and there was really no rush to move in together.  While we started to talk about moving to a new apartment between our jobs, and even buying a house, circumstances intervened to make it most convenient and economical for me to move in with him.

Leaving my bachelorette pad behind was not that difficult, as I’d thoroughly enjoyed my time there and was ready to move on.  Integrating two lives into one apartment was surprisingly seamless, and I really couldn’t be happier. But acclimating to our new place was more difficult than I’d anticipated– moving an hour away from the city felt like moving to another world.

I’m lucky to live in a gorgeous, charming, small NorCal town with a picturesque square, friendly people, and farmer’s markets every Tuesday night, complete with live music.  Tourists flock to it in the warmer months, newlyweds honeymoon there, and really, it sounds perfect on paper.

While I appreciate all the great things we have, sometimes I feel a little bit out of place.  The mid-20s crowd is primarily composed of people who grew up locally, never left, and started families right out of high school or shortly thereafter.  The women my age typically have 2 kids by now; if you’re not coupled up by 18, it seems you’re considered a failure in the local circles.  On the other hand, the professional crowd are more late-30s transplants from SF, also with 2 kids.  The women, as far as I can tell, stay home or work from home.  I do have friends in both aforementioned groups, and they are very nice people.  But really, there’s no comparison with my friends from college and medical school, who just get me, and are going through the same life milestones.

It feels like there is NOBODY in my situation in town, save for my boyfriend.  I think we’re the only 2-income professional couple with no kids in about a 15-20 mile radius.    I constantly feel like I have to censor myself– usually in talking about work or a vacation we took, because I don’t want to sound like we’re bragging– but watching what I say isn’t very conducive to feeling comfortable.

Sometimes it seems that the space between dating and having kids has become redefined as purgatory.   I’m actually quite happy with my nice committed relationship and no kids (for the moment), thank you… and enjoying every last minute of my freedom.

Thank goodness for the awesomeness of my old friends.  While we all live pretty far apart, we do manage to catch up on a bi-monthly basis or chat over the phone.  And they totally understand where I’m coming from when I talk about stress at work, or my need to not be mommy-tracked just yet.

In any case, the point of this post isn’t to complain, but rather to highlight that even in fantastic relationships, compromise and adaptation are necessary.  Plus, they help you grow more– after being a tomboy for so many years, I’ve started cooking and doing crafts!  If they knew, my guy friends would think I’d been abducted by aliens, but really I’ve just found a man worth learning how to cook for.

After a year, the reduced pace of life is much less noticeable.  Besides, the relocation got me exactly what I wanted:  more quality time with the man I love.

What have you had to compromise on or adapt to for your significant other?  Was it easier or harder than you thought it would be?

A snippet of a convo between me and my mom last night:

RTW:  I think I’m getting the hang of this cooking thing!

RTMom: (smiles) Is that so.

RTW:  Yeah… it’s like my playtime in the kitchen.  And RTBF likes what I make, amazingly enough…  (Pause) But I probably enjoy it a lot more since I don’t have to do it.

RTMom: (laughs, gives me a hug) Well, I’m glad you’re happy and have time to enjoy new things.

I’m a pretty goal-oriented person; and I guess you could even say I thrive in pressure cooker situations.  A little bit of stress definitely helps me now and then to kick it into high gear and really perform at my best– but only when the stress is temporary, like now.

Four years ago, I was so stressed out and barely had time to see my family, even on holidays.  I had zero time to take care of myself emotionally or physically; let’s just say that having very sick patients simultaneously makes you wonder what is wrong with the world and be incredibly grateful that you can at least breathe/walk/see without being in excruciating pain.

Medicine is the ultimate service industry, and your own health and relationships will suffer, because doing anything less than your best for your patients is not acceptable.  A 110-hour week is not a very humane thing, but neither is death.  So, my eating habits were terrible, I was sleep-deprived, and I never made it to the gym to blow off steam.  Holidays became just another workday… and my mom, having gone through all this 30 years ago when it was much harder, understood completely why I had to miss Thanksgiving dinners and birthdays and graduations.  That didn’t stop me from feeling guilty at missing out on the important milestones and family gatherings, though.

Now that I’ve got a little more time, I am so much happier.  RTBF is very understanding of my demanding (but exponentially less so) schedule.  And I have weekends off to cook and craft and just enjoy the beauty of daylight with the people I love…  what else could I ask for?

In an ideal world, I would be a surgeon (see: thrive in pressure cooker situations), but one who operates for a half day (7 am – 3 or 4 pm) then gets to go home, kiss the hubby, play with the kids, and enjoy being a normal person.  Unfortunately, there’s no such thing as a part-time surgeon… or is there?  The WSJ just ran an article on traveling general surgeons, and frankly it doesn’t seem like that’s a very sustainable option for the long term.

But I digress.  Since I’m not a part-time surgeon, instead I hang out on the fringes of the healthcare world, go to work, come home, kiss the RTBF, call my friends/family,  and enjoy being a normal person.  It’s a pretty simple recipe for happiness, but I had nothing resembling a successful result until I just added time.

Does anyone feel like they have a good balance between work/play?  Share your recipe for happiness– what would you do if you had all the time in the world?

Did you know that when couples marry, they are guaranteed 1,138 federal rights, protections and benefits in the United States?  Those who are unable to marry are denied those benefits.

If you support same-sex marriage, you can donate directly to a group that will work toward that cause.  N at Two Chicks Nest is a terrific source of info.

Now, you can also make that statement with your jewelry.  The Love, Peace and Hope site has some stunning, modern pieces, and 10% of the proceeds from your purchase go to Lambda Legal, an organization dedicated to achieving equality for LGBTQ individuals.  I’m really impressed that the designer is so vocal about his support for the cause.  While I’m not interested in a diamond engagement ring for various reasons which deserve their own post, this setting (with a thinner band) would be gorgeous with a yellow sapphire as its center stone.

The 1138 collection specifically honors those rights mentioned above, and who wouldn’t be proud to wear this gorgeous rose gold necklace?  I can’t think of a classier way to display your social conscience.

What do you think about jewelry with a voice?

Image from nataliedee

An article titled Medical Student Burnout and the Challenge to Patient Care recently caught my eye in the New York Times.  Written by Dr. Pauline Chen, it examines some sad findings from a Mayo Clinic survey of 2,248 students at seven medical schools:  While almost 50% of medical students surveyed met criteria for burnout, 11% reported having suicidal ideation.

As I read through the article and scanned the first couple pages of comments, memories of my own medical school experience from a few short years ago came flooding back. Maybe it’s inappropriate to say that these memories came back, because in fact much of what I’ve retained is not far from the forefront of my mind at any given moment.

Although I went to a terrific medical school, with engaged teachers, good friends to turn to, and a relatively benign environment, my years there were the most depressing times I’ve had in my not-yet-30 years.  I consider myself an optimist, but many factors left me feeling sad and overwhelmed.

Let me be clear– I was not depressed by medical school itself, but by the experiences I had.  Watching your patients recover is incredibly rewarding, but witnessing their deterioration is truly saddening.  People are not admitted to the hospital unless they are critically ill, and despite your team’s best efforts, the end results may not be favorable.  While many fear death, I learned to fear even more the interminable hospital stays.  Patients, so bright and engaging and personable, turn into shells of their former selves when faced with invasive, painful procedures and diagnostic tests, drug regimens bearing side effects worse than many diseases, and the neverending uncertainty.

Each individual is someone’s mother/daughter/sister/friend… and each person reflects images of your own loved ones.  It is hard to be close to it all, but even harder to stay away. Medicine, in its correct form as both an art and a science, is a drug– and an addicting one at that.  Like any addiction, it is possible to go too far, but unlike some addictions, it is nearly impossible to step back.

Confronted with emotionally scarring scenarios, doctors have a responsibility to provide the best care possible, but afterwards don’t have time to recover themselves.  When you work a 30-hour shift, but don’t want to leave because your patient is YOUR patient, nobody knows her case like you do, and you want to make sure everything goes right…  well, that’s pretty standard.  It becomes hard to sleep at night, worrying about what diagnostic information you might need and how to structure a plan of care so that patients can get out of the hospital and back to their lives as soon as possible.

Other environmental stressors such as week-long fights with insurance agents over procedure approval,  general hospital errors, and political posturing also contribute to the general frustration of physicians, who are already emotionally overloaded. None of this excuses inappropriate or uncaring behavior in doctors, but it makes it easier to understand why burnout is so prevalent.

What does all this mean?  Medical education is long overdue for a change.  Technology has advanced considerably, but maybe what we need is not more information and more statistics, but a way to use that data more effectively and more creatively.  Let the machines and devices do what they were designed to do, and let the humans excel at being human.

To reclaim the art of medicine, we must consciously select our future doctors for emotional intelligence as well as intellectual curiosity.  It will be a long process, but in the end, benefits will be reaped by doctors and patients alike.

For those who are in training, take a moment for yourself.  Breathe.  Try to relax, and remember that good things still happen every day.  Smile at your patients.

How do you think we should address physician/med student burnout?  Do you think patients are negatively affected?

No, I wasn’t a young mom… and I probably won’t actually have a child until I’m almost 30, several years from now.  But at a relatively early age, I realized that I wanted to stay home with my children.  My career, while interesting and fun (sometimes) does not define me.  It’s just what I do for a living.  Raising a family, however, begs the hard questions– define who I am, what I stand for, and what truths I want to pass on to future generations. People plan for careers and retirement, so I figured, why not get a jump-start by planning for a family?

Image by kton25

Here’s the general outline of my planning process:

Figure out who I am and what I want

Yeah, the “who I am” part is still in progress, but I’m enjoying the discovery process.  I know what I want, at least now, though.  I value stability, autonomy, and my relationships.  Stability can be different things to people, but to me, it’s making enough to take care of my parents (if needed), and provide a good living for my family, while not sacrificing the time I spend with them.

Think about the environment I want for my kids

One of my top priorities is raising my children in a loving, open-minded household, with strong male and female role models.  I also want them to have a good relationship with their grandparents.

With that in mind, I think the first few years are really the most important in a child’s life, and I would like to be home as much as possible during that time.  Some of my favorite memories are of catching tadpoles in a creek with my mom, learning how to ride a bike with my dad, and digging in the garden with my grandmother. I feel like I’d be doing my children a disservice if I didn’t at least try to provide them with a similar environment to grow up in.

Figure out how I’m going to achieve those goals

It’s all well and good to say that I want to stay home with my kids, but that’s not actually going to benefit them unless it’s financially feasible.  To that end, I did choose a fast-paced job with 60-80 hr weeks, but a lot of earning potential.  In my spare time, I’m leveraging my contacts to figure out how to work from home in a few years, and continue contributing to the household finances.

I think it seems to others that I’m very ambitious for my career’s sake, but what they don’t understand is that I’m motivated to increase my earnings and build up a nest egg *before* I leave the corporate world for more important things.  If I accomplish certain goals earlier, its just one less thing to concentrate on in the future.

Med school was something I chose to do earlier rather than later, in expectation of having a family.  Although I’ve left medicine, my experiences will definitely help alleviate some of my worry when my children get sick.  I’m sure I’ll get concerned, and research everything on the internet, and call up all my friends.  But my piece of my advice for myself in the future?

Just remember this:  you are a parent, and you know your kid best.  If you think there’s something seriously wrong, or your child has gotten much sicker in a short timeframe, make sure the doctor understands that.  I wouldn’t bring my child to the ER and expose them to all the antibiotic-resistant bugs there unless I was supremely concerned.  Use your judgment and make sure you get good explanations for why your child is treated a certain way.  Then get them the hell away from the other sick people so they don’t catch something worse.

When you feel ready, go ahead and make babies!

If you do it right, kids are the most time-consuming commitment you’ll ever have.  There’s no way to completely prepare for it, except maybe by working in the pediatric ICU. Look, even the best-laid plans go awry…  so expect the unexpected and all the associated obstacles in your path.  Plan to be flexible, go with the flow, and just enjoy!  Practice a lot in the meantime.

Is anyone else planning for kids?  If you have children, what advice would you give to those who don’t?

According to GlobalIssues.org,

Almost half the world — over three billion people — lives on less than $2.50 a day.

The poorest 40% of the world’s population accounts for 5 percent of global income. The richest 20% accounts for three-quarters of world income.

Less than one per cent of what the world spent every year on weapons was needed to put every child into school by the year 2000 and yet it didn’t happen.

Some 1.1 billion people in developing countries have inadequate access to water, and 2.6 billion lack basic sanitation. 1.4 million children die each year from lack of access to safe drinking water and adequate sanitation.

Worldwide, 10.6 million children died in 2003 before they reached the age of 5 (a number equivalent to the child population in France, Germany, Greece and Italy).

Nearly a billion people entered the 21st century unable to read a book or sign their names.

It will take tremendous effort and resources to combat such far-reaching effects.  While there are numerous organizations dedicated to the fight against poverty, it’s of critical importance that individuals recognize their role in contributing to the cause.

Instead of picking one aspect of poverty to write about, I’ll focus on the ways you can incorporate awareness into your lifestyle, and implement solutions in your day-to-day routine.

Raising awareness at home

The easiest way to do this is to start early. Halloween is just around the corner, and a great time to have a discussion about poverty with kids.  Kick it off with the UNICEF boxes and see where the Q&A leads.  Kids are a lot more aware than adults give them credit for; it’s our responsibility to nurture this awareness and educate good citizens of the world.  BTW, if the school doesn’t give out UNICEF boxes to the kids, ask them to!

My boyfriend and I have already discussed how we’ll set examples with our future children by bringing them to volunteer at shelters, donating toys and clothes regularly, and encouraging them to go on volunteer trips when they’re older.

For younger kids, check out your local shelters, food banks, or religious organizations.  It’s helpful for the kids to see the impact of poverty in their own community, and makes it easier to commit to a regular schedule of volunteering.

Feeding America (formerly America’s Second Harvest) is a nationwide network of food banks, and you can search for one in your area.

Leaders Today has a good selection of youth volunteer opportunities worldwide.

Habitat for Humanity is a truly moving, community-building experience, good for teens and adults.

If you don’t have kids, suggest to your parents/siblings/friends that you all spend a day together volunteering.  Especially around the holidays when people have already traveled to be with family, it makes for a fun and fulfilling time together.

Raising awareness at work

I’m lucky enough to work in a high-rise where the management organizes regular food/clothing/book drives, then carefully coordinates item pickup with the respective recipients.  It makes it easy for me to just bring donations in– but if you don’t have such a system, consider starting one at your office.

Goods may be hard to store and distribute, so coworkers may be more likely to give money toward a specific cause.  Make it a competition, either within the office or with another company, to see how much you can during a specified period of time.

In addition to scheduled drives, you can contribute little things every day. If you have work lunches and the office staff disposes of leftovers, see if they’d be willing to give the food to people on the street, rather than throwing it away.  There are a lot of homeless people around my office; at least in my experience, they are incredibly grateful for something as simple as a bagel or a sandwich.

Financial contributions

Every little bit helps, and here is where your contributions can easily go global.

How to save money:

Why not save all your spare change, and donate it every couple months?  Or go without Peet’s for a month and donate the money you saved to a cause of your choice.

I’ve found it’s even more fun when you involve your friends, and/or tie donations to a specific goal.  Want to lose 5 pounds by a specific date?  Get a group of friends together, start a pool where everyone kicks in $20, and then whoever wins gets to pick the charity.

Where to direct that money:

These are some causes near and dear to my heart, but there are many worthy organizations out there.

UNICEF – Helps children in the developing world.

Medicins San Frontieres (Doctors Without Borders) – Provides medical care and assistance in regions where people’s survival is threatened by violence, neglect, or catastrophe.  Won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1999.

Heifer International – Funny name, cool concept.  You can buy an animal such as a duck, lamb, or rabbit, or contribute towards a larger one like an ox or water buffalo.  The livestock goes to a family in the developing world, where the milk/eggs/offspring of the animals are used to generate income and provide a way for families to lift themselves out of poverty.  Everyone on my Christmas list gets some kind of animal– I love this concept!

J.D. at Get Rich Slowly has some great posts on incorporating giving into your financial planning.

Microfinance is a hot new topic that’s become more mainstream in the past few years.  While it is not a donation but instead a loan, you provide small loans to entrepreneurs in developing countries to enable them to start their own self-sustaining business.  Kiva is a popular site to look at if you’re interested.

Poverty and style

Basics such as food, water, and shelter are important, but looking good also helps people gain confidence and self-respect.

Many elementary schools have clothing drives; why not organize one at yours?  Or put on a fashion show as a fundraiser, and donate proceeds to a local cause.

Goodwill gets a regular donation of clothes and household goods as we’ve combined our two households into one.  It can be as easy as dropping off bags after spring cleaning, or even contributing online.

The Women’s Alliance and Dress for Success accept used business wear to help people make a good first impression in interviews.

If you’re crafty, have a party or sleepover to make sleeping bags for the homeless!  Instructions here.

Hopefully these suggestions inspired you to give (or give more!) to organizations that work to address poverty throughout the world.  It’s a big task, but if we all contribute whatever we can, we’ll be that much closer to reaching our goals.  Start small, dream big!

What are your favorite causes and charities?

About half the analysts were just sitting in the bullpen, working on presentations, and the other half were at lunch.  One of the senior partners walked in, and announced, “Everyone, I have an announcement.  We can’t do anything about this right now, but we just got word that there was a bomb threat on a floor above us and they’ve sealed off the building.”

Amazingly enough, there was no panic or mad rush to the door.  I think we were all pretty stunned.  When we had all gone to the windows and marveled at the SWAT van and tens of police cars cordoning off the street, a few of us gathered up our belongings and left.  We didn’t take the stairs, since we were worried the suspect might be in the stairwell, so it was quite an odd elevator ride down.  I kept waiting for the car to stop, shake, or lose power, but we reached the lobby uneventfully and were ushered outside by waiting policemen.

There in the 70-degree sun, we sat on the steps of the Mint, checked status updates on our BlackBerries, and took calls from family and friends reassuring them we were fine.  What a surreal afternoon it was…  for such a serious situation, I couldn’t fathom how everyone stayed calm, including me.  Crazy how you get so set in a routine, and then one event has the potential to change life as we know it.

I had my gym bag with me, we were out of harm’s way, and they weren’t letting anyone back in, so I went to the gym to clear my head.  Mulling it over on the elliptical, I thought about all the different endings that story could’ve had. Hey, if the guy had been really bent on doing damage, rather than a disgruntled Price Is Right reject, I might not be writing this right now.

In the hospital, we saw death every day.  It’s right there, staring you in the face, while you and your team pit modern medicine against the inevitable.  Sometimes you succeed, for a while at least, and sometimes there’s no way to prevail.  What resonated most with me was each patient’s way of coping with illness: some fought to the point of exhaustion, some were an eye of calm and acceptance in a swirling vortex of labs, meds, and procedures.  While I have no way of knowing how I’ll react when my time comes, I got a glimpse yesterday.

Nobody’s perfect, and I’m sure I’ve made my share of poor decisions, but in the end what matters most is that I’ve been able to spend time with the people I love, and I have absolutely no regrets about that.  At the end of the day, the true measure of your life will be reflected in how others remember you.

Live so that you have no regrets– that’s the guiding philosophy behind every decision I make.  We can plan for the future as much as we like, but life can surprise us.  Don’t deprive yourself of the things that nurture your soul.

On a more practical note, I am really glad I’d set up my affairs:  I’m an organ donor, I have a durable power of attorney that allows my mom to make my healthcare decisions should I become incapacitated, and I’ve discussed end-of-life issues with my family and boyfriend, just in case.

Please consider planning now for your healthcare.  It doesn’t have to be a long conversation, but enough so that others know where you stand and what measures you might want to be taken, should they need to make those decisions for you.

Have you ever been in a situation that made you reflect on your life?  What conclusions did you come to as a result?