As a California-Italy cultural hybrid, I have always lived near the water. From being lulled to sleep by the gentle waves of the Adriatic Sea as an infant, to taking long walks along the Pacific Coast Highway accompanied by the crashing waves of the Pacific, to sitting on a bench at the Lido lost in contemplation while staring at the Venetian lagoon … the water has been my most constant guide and companion throughout my life. I learned to swim before I learned to walk and understood the importance of rendering myself vulnerable to the water when feeling weak and overwhelmed, flipping over onto my back and letting the water carry me. In middle school, I was even a competitive swimmer — but I always thought of the water and its surroundings as an element for exploration as opposed to something I needed to master.
Nearly four decades later, after medical school, residency, a second degree, fellowship, and four children, water and outdoor adventure play an even bigger role in my life. These past several years have been ones of profound challenge and change, with many of us still dealing with the isolation, loneliness, illness, and for some, grief, of COVID. For me, these years brought a new life into the world, the completion of a very emotionally taxing chapter of my training, and a challenging time for my family as I changed jobs. Through the changes, it was the water and the outdoors that kept restoring my balance. I built up a practice during COVID that I continue to this day: On particularly difficult work days I drive to the beach and spend hours staring at the water. When I have days off, I swim or sail; being out on the ocean for hours at a time was something my heart greatly missed. Recently, I even learned how to surf, a practice that feels like home: It connects me to the familiar feelings water stirred up within me as a child, peace, excitement, and joy. I’ve come to realize, in other words, that it is not so much a hobby as a necessity for me, as a physician that can be confronted with severe illness and challenging decision-making. Maintaining a connection with water and the outdoors keeps me grounded.
Within the recent context of burnout and moral injury, it is of the utmost importance for not just physician well-being but human well-being as a whole to carve out the time to seek whatever is necessary to balance the heart and soul. It is from a privileged stance that I am able to both contextualize burnout and advocate for prioritizing non-work related activities above work. Though my specialty, neonatology, is not an easy field — after all, I chose it because it is in constant evolution and keeps me challenged — it nevertheless allows me the opportunity to be an intensivist who can still find time for other pursuits. In addition, I live in California, where it’s part of the mindset to enjoy the outdoors; and I’m from Italy, where we are taught to understand the importance of life as it is unrelated to work, as well as the value of balance.
That said, my pursuit of balance through water is one that even landlocked physicians can achieve: Certainly, the ability to be at the beach daily would be ideal, but it is possible to get one’s “water fix” by finding a pool (my neighborhood gym has one), organizing beach days with one’s family on off days (I’ll be going in two days with my four kids on my day off, as a matter of fact), or even hiking outdoors where exercise, sun, and nature all coalesce to revive a physician’s spirit. Additionally, though I prefer to spend my time in water, if I am not able to be in the water, I run without a set time limit or destination, and almost always end up at one of our neighborhood parks that has a beautiful view of the city below. This is likely attainable for all physicians.
At the end of the day, finding that balance between life and medicine is one of the most difficult things to obtain — but the one that will also render it smooth and joyful, irrespective of its bumps. I go to the water to feel refreshed and strong in the midst of life’s challenges. I hope whatever you find — be it water or something more earth-bound — can be a source of rebirth and vitality for your identity, and can help you stay connected with the world and bring you back to yourself.
What's your version of a “water fix”? Share in the comments!
Dr. Giulia Faison is a neonatologist and budding bioethicist in Southern California. She enjoys yoga, running, and recently has picked up surfing. As a mom of four, exposing her children to the world is a priority. Dr. Faison is a 2023–2024 Doximity Op-Med Fellow.
Illustration by April Brust
