A body in motion stays in motion, unless acted on by an outside force. I’ve only clearly comprehended this a few times in my life, when the law has directly applied to my tempo of life. Regarding this trimester, life has hardly ever been busier or a more a profound balancing act. Sure, life in the military was beyond busy and exhausting, but the essence of the mission required singular effort and focus. Life was without a multitude of distractions and goals. It was a world in which success lacked variety and nuance.

Indeed, most things in life are succeed or fail in nature, but in the world of healthcare and academia, success and failure become rather phantasmal, muddied subjects. I suppose that success in this arena consists of finding that perfect balance between life and living. Life being something one inherently has and living being a product of mindfulness, self-awareness and the ability to slow down and enjoy the present moment — and all those within it.

However, there’s a certain charisma inherent to getting lost in something you are passionate about. An allure to building on what once was just a poorly developed vision for the future. However you think of it, whether as a calling or the pinnacle of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, working towards a life goal can be all-enveloping and, according to the relativity of time, can make time just whiz by.

This is why I’m baffled as to how it’s already the dawn of Week 8. The trimester has absolutely flown by.

At the forefront of the surging crowd just before the gates were breached

Saturday, though, I took my own advice and took some time to take part in the historic moment taking place outside my front door. You see, Saturday was a historic day for the Cubs as they vanquished the Dodgers and earned their place in the World Series. I basked in the mayhem caused by tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of people as pandemonium broke out in the 9th inning. It was surreal.

The Cubs making it to the World Series still wasn’t as surreal as the epiphanic moment I had the other day while performing a regional exam practical examination while moving almost on autopilot and realizing that I was less than a year and a half from being a doctor. As much as that understanding is a gut-check, it also drives home the importance of losing oneself in the subject matter of academia and dreams. The realization of all the hard work is right around the corner and I neither want to, nor can, take my eye off the ball or my foot off the pedal.