(A note for anyone who is wondering what to do)
I had breakfast yesterday with a mentor of mine. At one point I asked him “If you were me, and you (hopefully) had 20 years left in your career, what would you do with it?” He replied, “That depends entirely on what legacy I wanted to leave behind when I was finished.”
It was the right answer, even if I kind of hated it. How could he tell me where to go in my life? How could anyone?
At some point, no one can tell us what to do. Only we can decide if we want to do emergency work or not. Only we know if we want to propose to the girl, quit clinical practice, or pack it all up and move across the country. Only we can decide what to do with the years ahead of us.
When I’m tired and stressed, sometimes I hate that there is no path to follow. I just wish someone would tell me to be patient, or to make a bold change, or to be patient and THEN make a bold change. But no one does that.
As I left breakfast, I thought of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Most people are familiar with the legendary quest for the holy grail, but few have ever heard how the knights get started. That’s the part I think about the most.
Upon deciding to embark, the knights first spread out to face the forest in different places. Each knight was meant to enter alone where he felt the forest was darkest. There would be no trail to follow, no human shields to absorb any hidden punishments, and no leaders to give direction.
In a way, the logic here is understandable. The objective of their quest was glory. But where is the glory in being in the middle of the line? There’s little to be found in watching the person in front to make sure the ground is safe, or in simply following instructions from an authority figure. For each knight, the aim was to create a tale worth being told for centuries. How else could such a story be justified except going alone and making one’s own trail where the forest seemed darkest?
As I talk with veterinarians who try to navigate the complexities of owning their own practices, climbing the corporate ladder, or running mission-driven non-profit organizations, I see knights in the forest. I see them wrestling with uncertainty about which way to go, and I am reminded that there are no carpools to the Holy Grail.
No matter what a meaningful life looks like to you, I promise you won’t find a formula to copy, a paint-by-number guide, or a crowd to follow that will get you there. There’s only the forest and the expectation that you must enter alone so that both the quest, and the mark you make on the world, are truly yours.
At some point, we all must make a choice: pursue the legacy we want to leave behind, or take the path that is most convenient for us to follow. For those of us who aspire to create a unique life for ourselves, it’s important to remember that we must enter the forest alone. If you feel unsure of your direction and find that every path you consider demands considerable effort, that’s not a sign of failure. It’s confirmation that you are on your quest and that your legacy, if nothing else, will be unique.
