Back to Now: When the Clock Stops Judging You
A physician I was coaching recently brought this to a session:
āIām always running late in clinic.ā
If you work in medicine in this day and age, you know that reality.
But as we slowed it down, she noticed something important:
āLateā has judgment.
The actual data?
She walked into the room at 10:30 for a 10:00 appointment.
Everything else was interpretation layered on top:
- Weāre asked to do too much with too little time!
- Patients are always annoyed
- I should be better at this by now
The emotional cascade was predictable: anger, frustration, shame, and a sense of falling behind.
And those thoughts and feelings didnāt improve the situation. In fact, they made it worse. Glancing at the clock and receiving her verdict, she would rush, lose focus, repeat questions, correct orders, and ruminate on the insanity of it all.
The clinic didnāt change, but her experience of it did.
Once she was able to recognize and label her lateness as a judgment and see the consequences of that unchecked narrative, she realized she had another option:
āIām doing the best I can.ā
It wasnāt forced positivity. It felt just as true as the original narrative.
But focusing on it gave her a bit more ease and compassion (self and others)
Initially, she worried the lack of pressure would make her further behind.
But actually, more ease and compassion improved her efficiency. She was able to do what she did best. Be truly present with her patients, more focused in her thinking, and more efficient with documentation. She wasnāt redoing work because she wasnāt scattered.
She remembered what she enjoyed about the patient care.
The clock really became just data.
Whatās interesting about presence is how much it reduces the stress that lives outside the moment:
In the immediate past (āI blew that oneā)
In the near or distant future (āIāll never get doneā¦ how is this sustainable?ā)
When we come back to whatās actually happening right now, the negative emotional intensity decreases.
Similarly, I was listening to a group coaching call recently where a surgeon described feeling constantly overwhelmed and considering cutting back on several things.
She felt most frazzled at the end of her day: texting about child feeding and event logistics, finishing notes, orders, and talking with families, etc.
But when asked about the operating room, her answer surprised her.
That was the most peaceful part of her day.
Despite high stakes, constant communication, interruptions and movement, penetrating arterioles bleeding, and multiple instruments in the surgical field.
The difference?
She realized it was because she was fully focused on one thing. Fully present.
That contrast led to her realization that if she could be that present in the OR under those conditions, she could learn to bring that same presence to other parts of her day: orders, notes, conversations, even home logistics.
And then the big āAhaā moment: She wasnāt living an impossible life that she needed to escape from. She was already living the very full life she had worked toward and dreamt about. It was full and messy and she loved it all. She didnāt want to give up anything.
Brooke Castillo, the coach, then pointed out the paradox. We often assume we need to fix or cut things out of our lives to feel less overwhelmed.
However, sometimes we need to cultivate calm first ā by recognizing and labeling our automatic thoughts as just thoughts, seeing their impact, deciding how we want to think about the situation that serves us better, and becoming more present.
Itās at that point, we can see things most clearly. We can decide what actually needs to changeā¦ and what doesnāt.
Reflection:
What data are you allowing to judge you? The clock, the scale, the inbox?
What changes when you start looking at it as objective data without verdicts about you?
In what situation(s), do you want to start building your āpresent in the momentā muscle?
Responses