oRGaniZeD cHaOS - a little bit inside my mind.

Bench top

“I am but a man”

-Apparently a lot of people have said this per Google

In my time training and being a prosthodontist (though this probably applies to a lot more people), I can appreciate that there is a certain type of personality that is attracted to this particular specialty.

Be it good or bad, this personality tends to include “aspires for perfection”. And, this does not necessarily apply solely to patients and their care, but to all aspects of life.

As challenging as the many years of studying, learning about and how to render complex techniques, and treating some “special” patients have been, I believe the most difficult mountain to overcome is coming to terms with and respecting my limitations. I’m not one to use pessimistic terminology casually, but I can’t seem to necessarily find a single word that might better convey the acceptance of doing one’s best, even if it falls short of your perceived expectations.

My preoccupation is admittedly a bit selfish. It comes not in the form of fearing judgment of others, but more from the worry that self-limitation equates to complacency. That “good enough” means that I did not put forth the best effort that I could. That I would get used to this feeling and ultimately become average and oblivious of more potential. Essentially, this is the existential form of FOMO (for those who aren’t as hip as me […crickets…] Fear Of Missing Out).

Many a self-help book, therapy, and externally-sourced (mostly my parents and hubby) “calm down” sessions have certainly helped in redirecting my mindset, but I do stray back to this insecurity. So, this post is to both share my uncertainty but also familiarity with this feeling. Hopefully you, reader, will understand and relate.

So why a picture of my lab bench top?

Probably to the chagrin of my lab partner and dental assistants who have to witness the state of my space, I feel as though it represents my progress in this struggle. I want to be perfect. I want to have the most organized, cleaned, structured, perfectly symmetrical and spotless lab bench ever. But to be a bit imperfect in this and to accept that state without worry is, okay. It doesn’t symbolize my intentions and motivations. I’m doing my best. I’m trying to care for the other aspects of life that require more of my attention and care. While I will still aspire to have a cleaner, more kept up lab bench, for right now, I’m doing pretty alright.

This post’s lesson: Never has a lab bench be seen with such profound, psychological meaning.