Start your day with this thought

you know how.png

© 2018 Mirissa D. Price: A Dental Student, A Writer, A Journey to Share.

Advertisements

When you remember, life is simple

When you close your eyes and take in a deep breath, you are met with a moment of peace. Life really is that simple.

But I don’t expect you to believe me right away. It’s just too modest a concept to be true! In fact, even now, I have to pause to remember this important lesson from my past. It gets lost so easily in the complexity of thought.

simple life.png

So instead of asking you to listen in blind faith, I’m going to share with you a story of how I came to this wisdom. In the end, you can decide what you choose to believe. All I ask is that you make that decision after taking your own deep breath:

 

When I was ten years old, I had a medical condition that required constant medication delivered by epidural. We relied on a local compounding pharmacy to deliver the script, and eventually, there was bound to be human error. That error came on Halloween night.

 

Sewn into a witch outfit made specifically for my swelling and casts, I began to feel nauseous. I wanted to trick-or-treat, to join the crowd of ghosts, witches, and cats, but I could feel my head sway from side-to-side. Sweat dripped from my hands and onto my pumpkin candy bag; my palms were shaking in my lap. My flesh was burning and aching with the constant feeling of being stabbed with a flaming knife. Somewhere between nausea, anticipation, and pain, my mom had readied me for bed, deciding my sister would just have to get my candy. She pulled my thin, pink blanket to my chin, careful to keep my swollen leg uncovered, and wished me a good night.

 

The next thing I knew, my mom was screaming at my bed, her body turning to run down the hall. My consciousness faded as I lay mumbling without words, still holding my hand as though I were grasping the pumpkin candy bag. Clicking my tongue to my lips, I nestled my head in my pillow, my body into Egyptian cotton sheets. The peaceful comfort of my bed extended for miles, and I just couldn’t understand what all the yelling could mean.

 

My head began to shake back and forth, but all I felt was wonder. If something was wrong, I wished my mom would just talk to me. When I tried to scream for her attention, though, my attempts were detached, my vocal cords too remote for my brain to control. Everything, even the worry, seemed so distant.

 

My mom ran back into my room almost immediately with two men and a gurney, her voice swallowing dry tears. I felt like I sat up in bed in response, though I know now I didn’t. With the injury and medication, not to mention the seizure, I physically couldn’t. Whatever they were doing, I lay there invisible. They moved at double-speed, while I watched as though the world were moving at half its pace. For every word they said, I could whisper twelve. Don’t worry, I thought to myself, sitting in a silence more vast than any silence I’d ever heard. Slow down.

 

The weight of my inflamed body melted from my bones, and I rose, floating from the bed to the bay window. I had worn a white, ankle-length pajama to bed, one covered with smiley faces on top and an old Egyptian cotton sheet on bottom. It was an original, sewn together by my mom from my two favorite materials that I just wouldn’t throw away. Staring from the window seat at the body in my bed, I wondered how that girl, too, had one of my pajamas. Her hair was the same strawberry blonde as mine, her leg just as swollen and cheeks just as sickly pale.

Realizing what I was seeing, I felt like the proper reaction would be to gulp. But I had no need to react. My mind was at peace.

 

Everyone in the room looked so worried, jamming the gurney to my bedside, calling out numbers. Everyone seemed so frazzled.

 

Don’t worry, I called out, unseen at the window.

 

Looking behind me, I could make out ambulance lights swirling in our driveway. It was all so interesting, so curious.

 

I’m okay, I thought, fading out of consciousness.

 

You’ll be okay.” A man at the head of the gurney stared into my face as my body convulsed in violent thrashes. Tension wrinkled through my forehead, my eyes staying only slightly open as I gasped for more air.

 

I remember worrying about my nightgown – I didn’t want them to tear it. I remember seeing the popcorn acoustic ceiling as we moved from the hallway, through an arch to the living area. And with a final thought to not worry, I forgot the convulsions and let the world fade away.

 

When moving through my days since then, I often forget what I felt sitting separate from my body. But the opportunity to know that feeling is a gift I keep near.

 

When we think life is rushed, I know now, perhaps it isn’t. Take a step back, and we have all the time that we need. When we worry about the worst possible outcome, I think now, to choose to feel calm. Just maybe, the anxiety will fade away.

 

We all have a tendency to complicate matters. We build stress into each day. We look to the future with fear and anxiety. We look into our past with regrets and what ifs. We complicate our lives until we forget that we have the power to take a simple, deep breath.

 

So pause with me a minute. Take a deep breath.

 

And hear me out, because I’m not pointing fingers. I do the same ‘complicating’ thing. But then I remember the girl in the window seat, the girl who chose to sit apart from the worry. I feel her weightlessness and calm. And I ask myself, ‘Girl, what are you doing?!With a simple choice to just breathe, life will always unveil an extra sliver of peace.  

© 2018 Mirissa D. Price: A Dental Student, A Writer, A Journey to Share.

 

The Words You Need to Hear

A moment can change everything. May you find the power to uncover so many beautiful little moments in this day.

Today, may you laugh with freedom over a silly little play on words.

May you sit on the bus, without headphones in your ears.

May you accomplish a hurdle at work, with all your wisdom and all your strength.

And may you choose to let go – of those you miss, and your past mistakes. They are over. They are gone. No amount of writing and rewriting will cause that to change.

Still, may you choose to write. And read, and breathe beyond the confines of the story that you tell. We all have a story. We still have many a blank page.

May you rise with the joy of knowing what it means to be alive. May you set your intention to just live your life.

Today, in this moment, may you take a breath in, easing the tension in your forehead. Letting the wrinkles fade to calm, may you begin a beautifully crisp and fresh day.

img_8770

© 2018 Mirissa D. Price: A Dental Student, A Writer, A Journey to Share.

There is always a chance

The celebration of Hanukkah is a celebration of miracles in the context of historic battle. And, it is a celebration of so much more! With each candle we light, we are welcoming hope, faith, and brightness into our lives. With each night we pray, we are joyfully gifted a reminder: miracles happen every day. And so, no matter what happened in our day, no matter what troubles we face, we can always hold onto faith.

What miracles entered your life today? No matter how seemingly small, embrace them, for they are truly life’s most divine gift to embrace.

This One Story Will Transform Your Day, if not your life

Hey there!

Whatever you are doing right now, stop. Pull up a chair; put on those reading glasses. Maybe grab a cup of tea. Let’s just have a chat, friend-to-friend.

I know; I know. We barely know one another. I’m a dental student typing from Boston, Massachusetts, you’re a blogger off on the other side of the country, if not the world. But trust me. This moment matters.

Because I want to tell you a story from not too long ago; in fact, this was just a few days over a week ago. Iarrived in clinic ready to meet a new patient; we’ll call her Lailah. She was 5’7 and calm, and really just wanting relief from her pain. When she sat down beside me, so much was going wrong – in her medical condition, in her dental health – but she was just so optimistic.

 

“I’m getting ready for Thanksgiving,” she told me, describing her large family. “I don’t want to be in pain on the holiday.”

 

“I don’t want you in pain, either,” I answered, reading her radiographs. “Let’s see what we can do together before then.”

 

Lailah let me know about a few of her medical conditions, the cancer for which she was receiving treatment, the congenital heart disease that didn’t seem to worry her cardiologist any longer, the hypothyroidism that seemed to be under control. Through her full story, she was radiating with the warmth of a smile.

 

“I promise,” I told Lailah, “to do what I can to move your treatment forward in time for the holidays. We can’t do everything by then, but we’ll work together here.”

 

The minute Lailah left my office, the work began.

 

I called every doctor she named, spoke to every dental advisor I could reach. I carefully, and with haste, developed her treatment plan, and prepared for the next stages of her care. And when I spoke with her oncologist, my heart sank.

 

“Lailah has 6 months to live,” her oncologist boldly introduced. “One year at most. Unless we find the cure for her type of cancer in the next year, I want you to understand, we are not doing normal dentistry here. Extract the infected teeth. We start chemo on the first.”

Now take a deep breath for me, perhaps a moment pause. I’m not telling you this story to catch your breath. And my intention is certainly not educational, though I can’t help but notice just how impactfully this story demonstrates the intersection of medicine and dentistry.

But I am sharing this story with a goal.

smile changes life.png

When Lailah and I met, I knew her care was important. I knew her healthy smile mattered. It’s the same approach I have with each and every patient in my chair. Even if my job is to simply guide the patient to a specialist or someone who can offer the needed attention, I give my time, heart, and growing knowledge and experience to that patient. Every patient matters.

Knowing Lailah was going to die didn’t make her matter any more or any less. She was still a patient. She was always important.

And, in so many ways, she reminded me of what really matters:

  • The opportunity to share the warmth of your smile with everyone around you, even the dental student you just met.
  • The gift of spending the holidays out of pain and in the embrace of family.
  • The hope that our actions today will make for a better world tomorrow.
  • The faith that everything will be okay.
  • The courage to move forward no matter what weight follows us from our pasts.
  • And the joy of knowing we have made an impact in this world, whether within our own families and communities or on a larger scale. We have mattered.

In Kabbalah, in Jewish tradition, Lailahel is an angel, one who comes to the world with a message to share. My patent, Lailah, is just that, sharing with us, each day, her beautiful messages of hope, faith, and gratitude. This holiday season, let us all try to have a touch of an angel – a touch of gratitude and optimism – in our hearts and minds. No matter what has happened today or this year, all that matters is now, and how, even with a simple smile, we can choose to make a true difference,

All names, characters, business, places, events, and incidents have been changed for privacy. As a compilation of many patient experiences, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.  

© 2017 Mirissa D. Price: A Dental Student, A Writer, A Journey to Share.

What makes you happy?

Whatever makes you happy, be it

– a dance party

– a night in

– a night with friends

– comedy

– faith

– a good book or even just a selfie

Share it. Love it. Embrace it.

embrace joy.png

That joy is what brings a smile to your eyes and light to your life.

What makes you happy? Think about some sources of joy in your life and share them with the world! You might just inspire joy in another’s life.

© 2017 Mirissa D. Price: A Dental Student, A Writer, A Journey to Share.

 

Your Monday Morning Meditation

Where do you focus your energy?

meditate.png

You wake up each day to the beep of an alarm. But you don’t get up, not yet. Instead, you lie in bed, hands open, body flat, eyes closed. You imagine yourself in the calm of a cloud. As you start to sink into its cotton surroundings, you notice the tension in your scalp. You feel that tension deeply, and you choose to let it go. You move down to your forehead, feeling the tension, and allowing release. You then move to your eyelids, your lips, your neck, and your shoulders, each time feeling the tension, and letting it go. You exhale softly as you do this, releasing the weight of your thoughts in the warmth of your breath. You whisper in muted sound, ‘Today is going to be great.’

When you get to your toes, feeling the tension and letting it go, you start to notice your body feels heavy. You feel the curve of your back sinking into the cushion of your bed. You feel the weight of your head molding the fluff of your pillow. You are safe. You are held. You are carried by the softness that surrounds you. And in the trust of the world, you let go of control. You let your body fall without worry; you let yourself sink into your surroundings.

Until you can’t sink any further, and you open your eyes, and open your mind. You open your heart to possibility, and to gratitude for the day. Nothing has yet happened. The day hasn’t started. Even if you have a meeting scheduled or an exam set, it hasn’t happened. Your day is a blank slate. Your possibilities are endless.

Coming back to the world, you notice the walls of your room. You notice the texture of your ceiling. You feel the temperature of the air. And you let a smile lift your face.

Anything can happen. And you begin your day excited by faith.

© 2017 Mirissa D. Price: A Dental Student, A Writer, A Journey to Share.

We are as powerful as…

We are as powerless as our weakest thought.

When we believe we can’t succeed. When we decide a task is too hard. When we put ourselves down for all the chaos around us.

We are much too good at this self-defeating spiral. We’re only human, after all.

And if we choose to let this spiral become us…

the world can seem dark, we can feel victim, and, much too easily, we lose touch with the reality that THESE BELIEFS SIMPLY ARE NOT TRUE!

What is true?

The beauty of the sunrise over the Charles River.

The gift of sharing a smile with a woman you just met.

YOUR POWER to let the world happen around you, and YOUR WISDOM to react in a way that builds from your inner strength.

Sure, there is a lot in this world that lies beyond our control. There is a lot in this world that could bring us to tears or envy, heartbreak or annoyance. AND, just the same, there is a lot in this world that can bring us back to ourselves.

In frustration, we have the power to imagine the most beautiful possibilities. In sorrow, we have the power to dream the most inspiring of dreams. In each day of our lives, we have the power to look out to others with curiosity, admiration, appreciation, and gratitude, and to reflect on this world and the chaos in it as opportunity. Imagine, if we are our truest selves, what inspiring change our lives can bring!

What if I told you, YOU ARE INCREDIBLE JUST BEING YOU?

amuse you.png

© 2017 Mirissa D. Price: A Dental Student, A Writer, A Journey to Share.