Stepping Into the Light: A Spring Awakening for the Weary Physician

It happens every year, yet it always surprises me—that first evening when I step outside after work and realize it’s still light out.  

For months, I’ve been trudging to my car in the dark, the weight of the day compressing me into feeling very “same stuff, different day.”  But then, suddenly, the clocks shift, and just like that—more light.  

At first, it feels like a trick. But after a couple of days, the sunlight is still there, and I start to get used to it: bright and warm, stretching the day just a little further.  

What would happen if I let it stretch me, too?  

The Rut We Can’t See When We’re In It 

We physicians are masters of routine. We live by schedules, call shifts and clinic hours, and the unyielding rhythm of patient needs. We pride ourselves on efficiency—one patient, one note, one problem at a time.  

But burnout doesn’t always announce itself in grand, dramatic fashion. Sometimes, it’s just the slow dulling of color. The blurring of days that all feel the same. The realization that you can’t remember the last time you did something—not because you had to, but because you wanted to.  

I’ve been operating on autopilot for months, my evenings shrinking into the same predictable loop: Commute. Collapse. Binge-watch something mindlessly until my eyes glaze over. Maybe feel guilty about binge-watching mindlessly, then binge-watch some more.  

And yet, here comes the light—coming through my living room windows suggesting: What if you did something different?

The Courage to Break the Pattern 

Let’s be honest: our winter patterns got us through the past couple of months generally unscathed. Once the holidays are over, there’s just not much low-hanging fruit to look forward to this time of year. So, I've started small instead of catastrophizing and beating myself up. Ruminating, “How did I let myself become such a slug?!?!” may feel true, but it is not at all helpful and can just be dropped immediately.  Last night, we binge-watched TV with the back doors open, letting the fresh air and nature sounds in. Just us and the fresh air and the ridiculous joy of hearing the song of a delighted bird break through Leslie Knope’s campaign for city council.

It wasn’t life-changing. But it was…different. A micro-interruption in a pattern that had grown too tight, too predictable.  

And I think that’s the trick. Burnout tells us we need some massive overhaul to feel better—quit the job, move to the mountains, adopt a dozen rescue dogs, and start a lavender farm. Because that’s a massive amount of work, we don’t do anything and stay stuck.  But sometimes, all we really need is a little shift. A slight untangling of the knots. A willingness to let a bit of light in.  

What Might Change If You Let It?

The extra daylight is an invitation—not to do more, but to be more. More present. More intentional. More alive to the small joys we’ve been rushing past.  

What if, instead of collapsing onto the couch, you took a ten-minute walk to feel your body moving?  

What if you sat outside with your coffee in the morning instead of scrolling through emails before the sun even rose?  

What if you called a friend on your drive home instead of letting exhaustion pull you passively into a podcast?  

What if you let yourself play again?  Kids instinctively run outside the minute it’s warm enough. When did we lose that? 

Lighten Up—In Every Sense of the Word 

Spring cleaning isn’t just for closets. It’s for the mind, too. The expectations we cling to. The narratives we tell ourselves about who we have to be and how hard we have to work before we’re allowed to rest.  

This may be the season to put some of those things down. To step outside and remember that the world is bigger than our inboxes, our patient lists, our endless responsibilities.  

This may be the season to ask: What if I let myself feel lighter?  

The sun is still up. Step into it.