Don’t worry we are not going to do motorcycle maintenance we are, however, going to chat about nursing Zen.

The original book was written by Robert Pirsig in 1974 about a trip he took with his son Chris who was 12 in 1968 on a Motorcycle.  Robert died in 2017, and Chris died in 1979.  Both were diagnosed with mental illness.  Robert was treated for schizophrenia in 1961-63 in a situation he describes being much like “One flew over the cuckoo’s nest.” In the book, there is an ongoing narrative of him rediscovering life after mental illness and a discussion of his theory on Quality.  It is an interesting read and worth your time.  It is considered a classic.

In the book, he discusses the differences between himself and another motorcyclist that accompanies him on the journey. Unlike the other motorcycle owner who only has motorcycle service stations look at his bike; Robert had spent a great deal of time getting to know his bike and how it operated in certain conditions.  He was also very frank at one point when he thought something horrible had happened to the bike, left it at a service station and went back to get a trailer and retrieve it.  When he brought the bike home, he discovered in his frustration that he had not checked the gas properly and was out of gas.  I think we all have done something monumental like that in our lives or careers. He talks about the ride and sensing how the bike is running, stopping to adjust, taking the time to adjust, and on the road fixes. The book is much more than this and has a very in-depth look at his definition of quality which is at least five pages and this ain’t grad school.

When I look at this our nursing careers are a lot like the motorcycle.  Sometimes they run smoothly with a pleasant hum and other times they start sputtering and shut off.  The art of nursing is what we do in between the new nurse and the grizzled dinosaur.  To use the example when we start, we are a new bike.  If we are well cared for, we can last a while.  My current real motorcycle was built in 1980 and is in pretty good shape other than a carburetor adjustment and some cosmetics (trust me for its age the bike looks hella better than some nurses I know).

We have to treat our careers as maintaining the excellent equipment we started with and learning when to adjust something, monitor it, run with it, or not worry about it.  We spend a ton of time pushing ourselves to the breakpoint (like over-revving an engine) leading us to the possibility of break down or “blowing up.” We have all been there, and we all have a pretty damn good idea when we reach that point.  Do we think of “pulling over” and checking those strange signs that occur before the blow-up?  Often not.  We run ourselves into the ground and ignore the signs that something is wrong with us, why? The false moral duty to our patients?  Karen? An organization that could give a damn less as long as shifts are covered?  We all care immensely for everyone but ourselves.

Nursie poo has had to relearn relaxing after grad school.  I now realize that I can listen and chill the heck out when I am not working or do not have an obligation to be doing something. It has taken some getting used to just listening to what my body/mind wants, needs and the odd “sounds” it is making to decide what kind of maintenance I need. You need to as well. Even as you work to better yourself, if you lose your body and mind, you are going to fail. Sometimes we give up when all we needed to do is switch on the fuel.

Taking this time is not a slap in the face to nursing or your career; it is much more about knowing your knowledge and personal limits.

This can be accomplished through many routes and should be.  Exam your career often, take the classes, teach a student, work, or sometimes put it on the trailer and haul it somewhere else (sometimes this may not be what was needed).  More important than anything.  You have a stressful and challenging job that requires this maintenance.

I have been a nurse for a damn long time, and I think I am just finally getting to a piece of the Zen of nursing. It is an evolving process with no real winner or no real end.  I think lately I have started to discover where my limits are and how to make me “run” a little better.

I even bought the bats a copy of Zen.  You really should read it as well as Man’s Search for Meaning.  Great titles with great life lessons.