Lunchtime Diaries: Finding Purpose Amid Uncertainty, Enjoying the Present, and Dreaming About the Future
There is something grounding about stepping away from work in the middle of a busy day. Today reminded me that even when life feels overwhelming, there are still moments where I can pause, breathe, enjoy a meal, and simply appreciate being alive. Welcome to another entry in my Lunchtime Diaries, where I take a break from the fast pace of clinic life and reflect on everything that’s been occupying my mind. As I sat outside with my lunch, surrounded by fresh air and beautiful weather, I realized that these quiet moments are becoming just as important to my well-being as my evening meditation and yoga sessions. They are little reminders that life isn’t only about productivity—it’s also about learning to slow down.
The morning itself was anything but relaxing. It was one of those clinic days where everything seemed to happen at once. Before clinic started, I had ordered a bánh mì around 8:00 in the morning, hoping it would be delivered to my office before my patients arrived. Instead, it never made it. Somewhere along the way the order disappeared, and I jokingly convinced myself that perhaps the DoorDash driver enjoyed my breakfast more than I ever got the chance to. By the time I realized it wasn’t coming, my schedule had already become packed, and I didn’t have another opportunity to think about food until much later in the day.
When lunchtime finally arrived, I decided not to reorder another sandwich. Instead, I picked up a rice plate with roasted barbecue pork and roasted chicken. At first, I honestly couldn’t tell whether one of the meats was roasted duck or chicken because they looked so similar, but either way, it was delicious. After such a hectic morning, even a simple meal felt incredibly satisfying. Sometimes it’s amazing how much comfort a warm lunch can provide after hours of nonstop work.
While eating outside, I couldn’t help but notice how pleasant the weather has been lately. The past few weeks in the Bay Area have been unusually warm, but today felt noticeably cooler with a gentle breeze that made sitting outdoors even more enjoyable. These little moments remind me why I appreciate living here despite the stress that often accompanies my professional life. Nature has a way of slowing everything down, even if only for a short lunch break.
As I sat there eating, my thoughts naturally drifted back toward work and the questions that have been weighing heavily on my mind. Lately, I’ve been thinking a great deal about where I am in life and where I want to go next. I genuinely believe that my work as a nurse practitioner gives my life purpose. Caring for patients has never simply been a career for me; it’s a calling. Every day I have the privilege of helping people navigate difficult diagnoses, chronic illnesses, mental health challenges, and life-changing decisions. That responsibility is something I deeply value.
At the same time, I can’t ignore the reality that my career has also become one of my greatest sources of anxiety. Working within a large healthcare system means constantly balancing evidence-based medicine, patient expectations, organizational policies, productivity metrics, documentation requirements, and quality scores. Some days it feels like I’m spending just as much energy worrying about performance indicators as I am caring for the people sitting in front of me.
One of the biggest challenges recently has been patient satisfaction metrics. Much of my professional evaluation depends on survey responses asking patients how likely they are to recommend me as their provider. While I understand why healthcare organizations measure patient experience, I’ve struggled with the reality that these surveys don’t always reflect the quality of care being delivered. My patient panel consists primarily of younger adults, many of whom tell me directly that they appreciate my care, recommend me to their friends and family, and continue returning for follow-up appointments. Yet they’re also the least likely group to complete satisfaction surveys. On the other hand, patients who leave appointments feeling frustrated or disappointed are often far more motivated to complete those surveys, resulting in scores that don’t always capture the broader picture of my practice.
It’s a frustrating situation because I know the relationships I’m building with many of my patients are meaningful. I’ve had new patients specifically request appointments after being referred by individuals I’ve previously cared for. That alone tells me that trust is being established. Still, when the numbers don’t reflect that reality, it’s easy to let anxiety take over. I’ve thought about encouraging satisfied patients to complete the surveys if they receive them, but asking for positive reviews has never felt natural to me. I became a healthcare provider to serve people, not to market myself.
Because of these metrics, I’ve started preparing myself emotionally for every possible outcome. I don’t know what the next few months will bring. If the organization ultimately decides that my performance isn’t meeting expectations, then I may find myself needing to explore another path. That uncertainty has been difficult to accept, but I’ve also realized that worrying about every possible scenario won’t change what happens. All I can do is continue showing up every day and giving my patients the compassionate, evidence-based care they deserve.
Interestingly, this season of stress has also helped me discover a deeper purpose within my profession. Over time, I’ve developed a particular passion for caring for patients experiencing anxiety, depression, stress, trauma, and other mental health concerns. Perhaps that’s because these are struggles I’ve personally experienced throughout my own life. My journey with anxiety has allowed me to empathize with patients in ways that textbooks alone never could. When someone sits across from me feeling hopeless or overwhelmed, I don’t simply understand their symptoms—I understand their humanity.
There was a time when becoming a healthcare provider was simply a childhood dream. Today, that dream has evolved into something much more meaningful. I no longer see myself solely as someone who diagnoses and prescribes. I want to become the kind of provider who reminds patients that healing is possible because I’ve had to fight for my own healing too. My past struggles with anxiety and moments of emotional darkness have shaped me into someone who genuinely believes people can find hope again. If my own journey allows even one patient to feel understood, then perhaps everything I’ve gone through has served a greater purpose.
Still, I have to acknowledge that I’m tired. These past several weeks have been emotionally exhausting, and I know my mind needs rest. Thankfully, I have something wonderful to look forward to very soon. In August, I’ll be taking a two-week vacation to Japan with my mom and my brother. We’ll be exploring Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka, and Okinawa together, and I’m genuinely excited about spending uninterrupted time with my family. More than sightseeing, I’m looking forward to slowing down, experiencing a different culture, enjoying incredible food, and creating memories together. My biggest hope is simply that my mom doesn’t become too exhausted because we’ll be doing quite a bit of traveling between cities. Regardless, I know this trip is exactly what I need.
I’ve also been reminding myself to think in shorter time frames. During my Nighttime Diaries reflection yesterday, I talked about focusing on manageable goals instead of becoming overwhelmed by distant uncertainties. Right now, my immediate goal is simply to make it to November. Reaching my third anniversary as a nurse practitioner is incredibly important because it allows me to apply for my next level of practice, bringing me one step closer to eventually practicing independently. November also represents another major milestone: if everything goes according to plan, I should finally qualify for student loan forgiveness. Those two achievements alone would make all the challenges of this year feel worthwhile.
If I reach November successfully, then I’ll continue taking things one year at a time. Rather than placing impossible expectations on myself, I’m learning to focus on the next achievable step. It’s a much healthier way of approaching life, especially for someone whose mind naturally wants to plan years into the future.
Outside of work, I’ve been excited about another creative project as well. Yesterday marked the beginning of my Nighttime Diaries series—a more intimate collection of mindfulness sessions, reflections, and gentle yoga practices filmed before bed. I’m still editing the first episode, cleaning up little slips, blurring anything that shouldn’t appear publicly, and preparing it for YouTube. In the meantime, an extended version is already available on my Patreon, where I feel comfortable sharing an even more candid side of myself with members who have supported my creative journey.
As I finished my lunch, another thought quietly surfaced—one that has been lingering in my heart for quite some time. Deep down, I often imagine what life would be like if I eventually moved back to the Philippines. There’s something incredibly appealing about returning to a slower, simpler lifestyle surrounded by family, familiar culture, and the possibility of building the peaceful retirement home and yoga retreat I’ve envisioned for years. Yet that dream also comes with fear. I sometimes worry about how others might judge that decision. Would people think I was giving up after working so hard to build a successful career in California? Would they assume I couldn’t handle the pressures of practicing here?
The more I reflected on it, though, the more I realized those opinions shouldn’t determine the course of my life. This is my journey, not anyone else’s. Success doesn’t have to look the same for everyone. If my version of success eventually means trading prestige for peace, exchanging constant productivity for intentional living, and prioritizing happiness over external validation, then that’s a choice worth celebrating rather than apologizing for.
Perhaps courage isn’t about eliminating fear. Perhaps courage is simply choosing the life that aligns with your values despite the fear.
As today’s lunch break came to an end, I found myself feeling lighter than when I first sat down. The stress of the morning hadn’t disappeared, nor had the uncertainty surrounding my career, but taking time to reflect reminded me that I’m still moving forward. I’m still showing up for my patients, still creating content that brings me joy, still nurturing dreams for the future, and still learning to give myself grace along the way.
Life doesn’t need to be perfectly planned today. It only asks that I continue taking one honest step after another.
Thank you for spending your lunch break with me. Whether you’ve been following my journey from the beginning or you’re just joining these diaries, I truly appreciate you taking the time to slow down with me. I hope these reflections remind you to care for yourself just as much as you care for everyone else.
Until next time, have a wonderful day, take care of yourself, and remember that even the busiest days deserve a peaceful pause.
Leave a Reply