For mental health awareness month, my work offered a meditation challenge on a popular app. Hoorah: a job-approved procrastination! I downloaded the app and tried it for a few five-minute sessions.

A whispery woman told me to banish negativity and let in more light. She dragged out her s’s like a snake. Ssssshe told me to breathe. And so I did. I breathed in. I breathed out. Probably, I breathe in and out all the time, but for those five minutes on the app, I really noticed.

Another hissing woman had me pay attention to each part of my body in order: neck, shoulders, arms, fingers. It was a great anatomy review! The woman told me to feel the warmth in each body part. She told me to feel the goodness and power coming out from each body part. It was fine, I guess. All that positive energy was … sort of disconcerting? Aren’t doctors supposed to look for problems?

A gravelly-voiced man told me to sit up straight, but relaxed, in my chair. He told me to think about confidence. Think about being seen and heard. Think about using my influence. I am not used to being told how to sit and what to think, except maybe by my teenage sons. Maybe my sons are yogis-in-training!

I thought meditation was supposed to be silent, clearing the brain of all thought? The people on this app were very chatty. I guess app “meditations” are a more modern, efficient activity, like little pep talks to spark up your day. What clinician these days couldn’t use an extra boost? Hence, in the name of wellness, I propose a collection of meditations for today’s clinician. Here are a few.

A Working Parent’s Meditation to Put Aside Thoughts of Home

I will listen to this patient.

I will care deeply about their viral respiratory symptoms.

I will care deeply about the color of their sputum.

I will not think about my daughter’s class party this morning.

I will trust my daughter to pull the drink boxes out of her backpack. I will trust that I did not need to hand deliver them myself between 10:15 a.m.-10:25 a.m. like the PTA moms.

I will trust that the sign-up sheet said “any all-fruit drink box,” so fruit punch should be fine.

I will trust that the fruit punch I purchased does not have added sugar. I will not send an email asking the teacher to double-check. I will not text Amy, the head PTA Mom, though it would be the highlight of her day to correct me. I will not think about that time I sent in lemonade, which was returned with a note stating “No sugary drinks in our classroom.” My daughter will probably forget to get out the drink boxes, anyway.

A Meditation of Love and Light for the Kindly Folk on the Prior Authorization Line

Thank you for providing such soothing music as a background to my day. When else would I have the treat of listening to a loop of perky jazz for 15 minutes when I could have been calling patients back about urgent lab results?

Thank you for paying such good attention to patient identification and privacy. You had three separate people ask for the same patient ID number. That really shows care and attention to detail.

Thank you for calling me “ma'am.” That provided a jolt of dignity in my day that I have not felt since the time I was on a road trip and the only place to eat was a Cracker Barrel.

Thank you for humbling me with your wisdom and insight. I should always think harder about ordering physical therapy first before a spinal MRI. Even when the patient can’t move and has weakness in their right leg. Even when the patient is a cancer survivor. Who am I to say that a little PT won’t help? Who am I to say that the patient doesn’t just need another few weeks of Motrin?

A Meditation to Stop Stalling and Just Finish the Frickin’ Notes

Finish your notes.

Just finish them.

Just finish this note that’s staring at you.

Don’t pause to ponder why you thought hydralazine would be a good choice for this patient’s uncontrolled blood pressure.

Don’t fret that there’s not enough detail to get the MRI scan approved.

If you end up needing a peer-to-peer for the MRI scan, there’s a separate meditation for that.

Don’t check your email again.

Don’t get up for a cup of tea.

You really should have added a diuretic instead of the hydralazine. Did the patient refuse a diuretic? You never prescribe hydralazine. But it doesn’t matter now.

Just finish the note.

Just sign it.

Though I jest, I can admit that the meditation app made some good points. I learned that no matter what frustrations come our way, we always have the choice of either focusing on the bad or the good in our day, and it definitely feels better to focus on the good. I was reminded to sit up straight, and to sometimes slow down. I learned that a few slow deep breaths can actually feel calming.

After a few meditations, I let myself imagine what true “wellness” in a health care workplace would look like. In a perfect situation, you would not need to run an app, because you would have enough time in your day to pause and notice the world beyond your patient and your computer screen. To taste your coffee. To wiggle your toes. To laugh and share a moment of connection with a colleague instead of avoiding eye contact because you just don’t have the capacity for a non-urgent conversation. I aspire to true wellness. In the meantime, I may not have signed off on all my notes for the day, but at least I did a quick guided meditation. For those five minutes, at least, I am quite sure that I remembered to breathe.

Share your meditation for the modern physician or clinician in the comments.

Melissa Schiffman, MD is a community-based primary care physician who practices in Suburban Philadelphia. She enjoys books, birds, gardens, and word nerdery. Her favorite medical term is "borborygmi." Find her on Twitter at: @MSchiffmanMD. Dr. Schiffman was a 2022–2023 Doximity Op-Med Fellow, and continues as a 2023–2024 Doximity Op-Med Fellow.

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