The First Step Towards Change: Stop Resisting Reality

“Why don’t they see?”
“Why can’t they understand?”
“Why are they doing this to me/us?”

These questions echoed through my mind—at home and at work—for years.

They likely echo through yours, too.

I heard them in exam rooms, in meetings, in conversations with colleagues behind closed doors.

I still hear them now in coaching - all the time.

These questions are especially present in the culture of medicine, where we're trained to work harder, carry more, and solve what seems unsolvable.

These questions can bring a subtle flavor of victimhood—an underlying belief that we are at the mercy of forces beyond our control.

They're often sparked by policy changes, administrative decisions, and institutional shifts that feel disconnected from those of us doing the work.

Underneath these questions is something even more tender: a quiet hope that what we’re facing isn’t really happening.

Maybe things could be different. Should be different. Must be different.

This is what resisting reality looks like.

It’s subtle. It’s deeply human. And it’s exhausting us.

Resisting reality is expensive.

Emotionally and energetically.

Resistance shows up in my life as tight shoulders, sleepless nights, and a fatigue that no vacation can touch.

It used to show up in tense conversations with colleagues, where no one left feeling seen.

I thought of it as a kind of vigilance—even a virtue.

What I eventually realized is that resistance doesn't change what’s happening.

It only depletes our ability to meet it well.

Acceptance is not approval. It’s not condoning or agreeing.

It’s the grounding pause that allows us to see things clearly:

This is happening. Now what?

Sometimes, that pause means letting yourself feel the disappointment, anger, or sadness fully—before deciding how to respond.

Other times, it means finding a sliver of humor or perspective: “Of course that policy passed.”

“Of course, the EMR was updated again without clinician input.”

Not to dismiss the impact, but to acknowledge the pattern.

In the practice of medicine and in our lives, this kind of presence matters.

We usually can’t change the EHR, the RVU system, or the latest top-down initiative.

We can become aware of how we brace ourselves physically, how our thoughts spiral, and whether we’re reacting out of frustration or responding with grounded clarity.

When we stop resisting reality, we begin to reclaim our energy.

We begin to ask different questions.
We shift from “Why are they doing this to us?” to “What do I want to do next, knowing this is the case?”
We show up with more steadiness—for our patients, our teams, and ourselves.

We can’t control other people—just as we wouldn’t want them to control us.
We can choose the stories we tell, the energy we bring, and the space we give ourselves to feel before we act.

This is where our real power begins.

Not in pushing reality away, but in choosing how we meet it—with presence, compassion, and clarity.