The day was slowing down and I’m sitting in the lounge at work, listening to a conversation between two high-achieving healthcare workers. One of which appeared to be going through a phase of enormous personal growth as he realized that there was no limit at the top and found himself asking where does it stop? Is it the next conference? The next promotion? The next award? And what about driving a Maserati brought him happiness?

The other participant went on to point out that she has to consciously make an effort to check herself. If she has a day off, she often is looking to see if there’s a shift that needs to be picked up rather than enjoy her time off. We don’t know how to stop. It’s in our culture, and perhaps even in our DNA, that there is never enough. We always want more and satisfaction is not appealing. I agreed wholeheartedly. And when she said, “we create our own chaos,” it hit me loud and clear that she was probably right. It begs the question: can you find happiness if you are never satisfied?

I stepped back and analyzed my life on the drive home, that evening and while I was in the shower the next morning. I am so blessed that I find it somewhat ridiculous. I am young, healthy and educated. Although, I am a first generation Asian-American immigrant, I really only have first world problems. And I have made the American dream my every day reality. 

Nevertheless, a part of me is constantly searching for more. And this part of me is not small. It is significant and intense and it makes me wonder if this urge creates all of the chaos present in my life. I’ve attracted it. The universe has no choice but to give into this immense energy I carry with me all of the time. Or is this a result of generational trauma? A concept that explains that my comfort zone is actually in chaos and that the ideal conditions for me to thrive under is one of tremendous demand and pressure. Either way, I am it’s creator.

In my late 20s, I became a physician. I went to medical school then earned a residency spot in a competitive field. I did my fellowship training at one of the most prestigious programs in the world then landed a job that I absolutely love. I love what I do as a critical care anesthesiologist. I wake up and work is something I am happy to do. I take so much pride in taking care of my patients and managing my team. Being at the bedside and the art of anesthesia are practices that I will never get tired of. And yet, if a leadership opportunity that takes me away from the aforementioned is presented to me, I feel intrigued…

In my mid 30s, I became a mom and in three years, I birthed 4 incredible, beautiful and healthy babies (BTW- no twins, I know the math seems off). I am overwhelmed by them and the purpose they have given me. My patience wears out and my attention spreads thin. And I think anyone can agree that having young children can strain your marriage and it will test the strength of your relationship every chance that you allow it to. And yet, I still find myself wondering about baby number 5… 

In my late 30s, I became an author. I wrote and published my memoir, Spirit of a Hummingbird: Memories from a Childhood on the Run. A cathartic process that provided me therapy, insight and clarity. It opened up dialogue between me and many people with stories that I would otherwise never have had the chance to listen to. And it was my connection to people that I will never have the chance to meet. That was exactly what I wanted from my book. And yet, the idea of being a best-selling author is a dream that I keep having…

The list goes on, and as I analyze each component that makes up my life, I realize that I am indeed the creator of my own chaos. A colleague recently told me that I basically have 3 full-time jobs. I laughed because there was truth in her statement. Why would I ever do this to myself? I have planned extravagant birthday parties for each kid on separate weekends when all four have birthdays within a two-month window and haven’t even developed memory. I have gotten frustrated with my husband for simply wanting to chill when the kids are napping instead of moving mountains, which is really what I should be doing too. I have shattered the glass ceiling professionally and keep climbing with glass embedded in my flesh. I have built curriculums and activities for daycare teachers on my free time hoping that own children will take something away from that one lesson. I tell myself that 430am is the ideal time to workout. I hire more help to fill in the gaps. I sleep less to accommodate the chaos. I put my phone on do not disturb to compensate. I post on social media hoping to relate and I blog to cope with it all (blog posts F*ck Balance and If Not Me, Then Who?). 

“I didn’t come this far to only come this far,” is a quote that encompasses my mentality. This is the approach I take when it comes to all of the meaningful aspects of my life. Whether it’s the ancestry in me or the grit or the rising expectations or the unavoidable purpose that comes with motherhood or the fact that I am a women of color or the fear of failure… I am constantly in search of more. This week is the first time, I have paused to ask myself, “How far is far enough? Is it right where I am?” Because, lately, I can'‘t decide if a few steps too far will compromise everything else or if it will place me exactly where I belong.