Amaali Lokuge: Where is wellness found?
Everyone has their own wellness routine, but I suspect most of us fill our cup subconsciously – only noticing the emptiness when we become crotchety, short-tempered and hopeless. It’s a truth that was highlighted during COVID-19, when our ‘normal’ patterns were completely disrupted by forces beyond our control.
In my own experience, wellness is not something I can do intermittently and store away for later. My personal cup of wellness is usually completely depleted at the end of one emergency shift, so it needs to be replenished daily.
Telling you about my routine is really testing my comfort with vulnerability, however, because some of the things I do may seem daft to some of you reading this.
Wellness on shift
I like to chat with the non-medical staff: the orderlies, the cleaners, the ward clerks. Their life stories build into a tapestry over time and the five minutes I spend chatting with them during each shift grows my sense of community and belonging within the department. And – this is probably the narcissist in me! – I love it when they notice my absence and ask about where I have been too.
At least once a week, I make sure I roster myself to work with doctors with whom I’ve developed a special bond. We make time during the shift to have a coffee, lunch or dinner break together and I try to steer the conversation away from work to talk about life.
I find a brief, but deep, dive into someone else’s interests is a soothing interlude from patient histories and demands. When I have a prolonged moment with the patients, like suturing or procedures, I may ask them about their tattoos, or prod gently into the personality of the overbearing parent or needy partner who was just in the room. The resulting insights and laughter help make the patients more human and lovable and also – interestingly – give me anecdotes to tell my family when I get home.
Wellness with people
A good relationship with my husband is vital for my wellbeing. When we are fighting, it feels like the whole world goes dark and monochromatic. So, I make sure we are never cross with each other for more than a day. If we’re at odds with each other when I have a shift, I know now that I must be extra careful to be nice to people.
Maybe because my husband is my bestie, I don’t really have other deep relationships like the ones I had at school. Or maybe it is the limited concentration span of the emergency physician in me. Instead, I prefer to have multiple circles of friends – school mums, doctors I did internship with, random people I’ve met along the way and happen to click with – that I flit in and out of.
Catch-ups over food at my house are my favourite. Sometimes I will spend days planning the menu and the decor – and my reward is a house filled with laughter and great conversation, giving me memories to savour for days to come.
Incidental chats with strangers, surprisingly, sustain me for a long time. I was so lonely during COVID-19 without these. I find even a 10-second chat with a random stranger will make me smile or give me something to think about hours later.
Wellness with nature
Being a painter, pretty things make me happy.
A beautiful smile or happy eyes give me significant moments of awe. In the same way, magnolia in full bloom at the end of winter, the shock of colour from myrtle trees lining a street, or the sun sparkling through autumn leaves on an icy day make me stop and imbibe the special delight only nature can give.
Even on days when my world may be falling apart, the beauty of nature can make me feel slightly less hopeless. And I’ll let you in on a secret: trees can take away some of my melancholy.
There are certain trees that call out if you listen carefully. Lean against one and give in to the mystical and you’ll notice something special. Trust me. I noticed this particularly in the forests of Alaska and Stanley Park in Vancouver.
Being among these trees or sitting at their base – my back against their ancient trunks – has healed my soul countless times. There are a few trees dotted around my neighbourhood that I call on when I’m having an existential crisis that I can’t quite articulate to a human.
Wellness with hobbies
I like hobbies that take me out of my head: painting, writing, reading, or listening to a killer playlist on Spotify. Time disappears into a blurry vacuum, and I emerge somehow different and careless of the minutiae that made everything so dreary just moments before. Sometimes, there’s no higher heaven than lying on the couch under a cosy blanket, the heater on, looking at the birch leaves shimmer in the sunlight outside the window, trying to decipher the lyrics to the songs on a new National album.
So, to answer the question about where wellness is found in my own life, my answer is ‘anywhere’ and (possibly) ‘everywhere’.
Just the act of living day-to-day gives me plenty of moments to fill my cup with if I take the time to look for them. What’s important is to try to make that time.
I guess, like a squirrel before winter, I constantly try to find and appreciate those moments that make me feel blessed and connected, so that I am more resilient to the small frustrations of life and work.
ACEM Wellness Week 2024 runs from 19 – 25 May. The Wellness Week Toolbox has a range of resources to help plan your involvement and share your stories.