Working in a hospital on a holiday can be quite boring because the census is usually down which means fewer patients to visit. It even means fewer food options in the cafeteria. So, on Labor Day, armed with my cup of ice water, I took a break in my usual late afternoon darkened corner of the cafeteria. Rather than watching a show on one of my streaming apps or practicing my Spanish on my language learning app, I scanned YouTube.

I stumbled upon a short(ish) video by Mayim Bialik, and it spoke to me . . . It was as if listening to myself after one of the silent retreats I used to take annually at the Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky . . . so much so that I cannot help but wonder if . . .

Wonder if what?

If finding my own way to unplug may be the key to reclaiming some illusive idea of happiness?

So many thoughts ran through my head. We are all searching for that something that will make us feel happy, but happiness is just a mirage. At least, it’s not this cure-all that, once we find it, will cause us to live happily ever after. Happiness is fleeting. That is why we Christians talk about the difference between joy and happiness. Happiness requires something external to be just right in order for our emotions to feel that warm, fuzzy feeling. Whereas we can experience joy regardless of our external circumstances. Happiness relies on weak and fallible humanity. Joy relies upon the perfection of a loving Father.

Happiness – I once met someone in the hospital who tried to commit suicide because they were unhappy. So many things I wanted to tell this patient, but it was not my place nor was it the right time. Anything I said would have fallen on deaf and drug-induced ears. But I thought, “Oh, my child, you are chasing the wind. Happiness alone cannot give your life meaning.”

Not that we should not chase it nor want it. We are human after all, hellbent on chasing after all that which makes us feel good. What is life without those euphoric feelings of bliss? The bad is tolerable only because we have enough of those other things to carry us through the grief.

But what happens when there are not enough of those happy moments to string together? We end up in a hospital room or in a morgue.

Or we simply wander through life looking like humans but living like zombies. Simply surviving.

So, again, I ask myself, I wonder if what?

If finding my own way to unplug may be the key to reclaiming a healthy heart?

After watching the video, it occurred to me that I am still wearing an external heart monitor. I recently saw a cardiologist for the first time and although I told my family and friends that it was preventative (I am getting to that age), that was not the whole truth. The other truth is that I have had some minor pains the past few months. I was/am almost certain that it is stress/anxiety related, but I wanted the peace of mind – hence, the external monitor.

Whenever I feel an unusual pain or pressure, I tap the monitor and record the duration, location, and activity. In a matter of days, it became abundantly clear to me that the pains have a direct correlation to stress – but rarely work stress. Rather, it is the personal things that keep my mind racing and my heart palpitating.

I recently took part in a study about the effects of COVID on spiritual care workers. One thing that became abundantly clear from that study is that I have an incredibly stressful job, but I absolutely love it and thrive in it. However, the more my work life has flourished, the more my personal life has suffered.

Here’s the bitter truth:

When I am at work, I feel like a rock star. I feel tall and proud and confident and competent. I feel invincible.

When I am at work, I can take just about anything anyone throws at me. I know what to say or when it’s best to say nothing at all.

I have energy and stamina.

I laugh.

I smile.

I play well with others.

When I am at work, I feel like Muhammad Ali.

When I am not at work, I feel like Charlie Brown.

When I am not at work, I am miserable. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to . . . well . . . it seems like everything requires a tremendous amount of effort.

When I am not at work, I feel stuck. The smallest things paralyze me. It can take days to make sense of a simple problem and work toward a solution.

I do nothing.

I don’t want to do anything.

I quite literally feel like two different people.

Kind of like Stefan vs. Steve – (channeling the 1990s sitcom Family Matters).

Or better yet, I feel like what I imagine my ex (the professional musician) must have felt like. He was a different person on stage than he was off stage. In fact, most of the entertainers I used to know were different – their public persona versus their private persona. I think I get it now . . .

Part of it, I recognize, is that work simply drains me. I am an introvert living an extremely extroverted lifestyle for 8 hours a day. My brain and body simply need the time to recharge.

But it is more than that . . . but I had not quite been able to put my finger on the remedy . . . until the aha moment I experienced watching this video.

That, I think, is why it spoke to me. It took me back to my silent retreat days and the reminder of why and how it worked.

Briefly: after three days of “detoxing” from the noise of the world, I was able to hear God speak.

I had to get rid of the noise of the world before I could ever hear God, and, subsequently, find peace.

Not only could I completely identify with just about everything Mayim was saying, but it made me long for the pre-COVID version of the non-work-Renee, the one social media helped destroy by creating such a huge political and religious divide.

I can’t go back. Too much damage has been done. But I can move forward.

I wonder if . . .

I wonder if a more permanent version of unplugging or detoxing is a step in the right direction toward fusing the two versions of me into one healthy and whole being . . . or at the very least . . . allowing the private persona . . . the Charlie Brown version of myself . . . to experience a few more Muhamad Ali-type-moments.