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A Placeholder for Now
We are what we repeatedly do — Aristotle
Everything in this world boils down to what is done in repetition. Tides go out and come in on schedule.
Winter turns to Spring. Spring turns to Summer. Summer to Autumn, then circles back to Winter.
Nature repeats itself and never seems to tire of it.
I am certain there are countless numbers of people in this universe who are either born with an innate rhythm that moves them day to day, week to week, month to month, and year to year, or have acquired the habits that produce this rhythm. The result? In a positive sense, those are the people who like what they do and have found success and are at peace with their lives.
For example, I once knew a physician — a good one, outstanding really— who arrived at the clinic each day greeted with an orderly desk, his daily schedule mapped out and coded, ready for patient appointments.
At his lunch break, he would bring out his bologna on whole wheat sandwich and apple and methodically eat it. After afternoon clinic, he would sit at his neatly organized desk to attack the chart work he needed to complete from the day’s patient visits. He painstakingly color-coded each chart (obviously before EHRs) with his notes. After, he moved the pile of completed charts to another part of his desk, pulled yet…
