Rediscovering Joy: A Physician’s Journey from Burnout to Balance
The Unexpected Teacher: An 8-Pound Lesson in Joy
Kittle, a feisty Tibetan terrier-poodle mix named after former Iowa Hawkeye and current San Francisco 49ers tight end George Kittle, arrived weighing just eight pounds. What started as a simple decision to fill the emptiness left by our beloved dogs, Stanzi and Moe, became an unexpected journey towards rediscovering joy.
It wasn’t an easy decision. We took Stanzi and Moe’s deaths hard. Our lives had changed alot since Stanzi and Moe were puppies. We traveled more, our children had grown and moved on, a grandchild was on the way, and retirement loomed on the horizon. The practical side of us questioned whether welcoming another dog into our changing lives made sense. But after dog-sitting our granddog, Maize, the absence of a four-legged friend became unbearable. We realized our lives were better with dogs, not without them.
Since Kittle’s arrival, our routines have been delightfully disrupted. Sleepless nights, unexpected messes, and the constant juggling of puppy care with daily life have tested our patience. Yet amidst the chaos, something remarkable happened: we found ourselves laughing more, reconnecting with neighbors during impromptu sidewalk conversations, lingering outside in the fresh air, and spending uninterrupted quality time together.
Through these simple moments, we rediscovered something that had been quietly slipping away in our achievement-focused, efficiency-driven lives: pure, uncomplicated joy.
As a physician, this experience made me reflect on a troubling pattern I’d observed not just in my own life, but in countless colleagues and patients. We seemed to be losing our capacity for joy—and the consequences were more serious than I’d initially realized.
The Joy Deficit: A Global Crisis Hiding in Plain Sight
What we experienced in our home mirrors a broader, concerning trend. Research reveals that joy is declining worldwide, particularly among younger generations.
The 2024 World Happiness Report delivered a sobering wake-up call: the United States dropped to 23rd place among the world’s happiest countries, falling out of the top 20 for the first time since the report began in 2012. This decline stems largely from decreased happiness among Americans under 30, while those over 60 actually reported higher satisfaction levels than in previous years.¹
Global data from Gallup’s State of the Global Workplace report shows that while overall happiness levels have rebounded to pre-pandemic highs, young adults aged 18-29 continue to report significantly lower levels of well-being compared to older generations.² The culprits? Increased loneliness, anxiety, excessive social media use, and weakening real-world connections.
Perhaps most intriguingly, research published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences found that isolated Indigenous communities report life satisfaction scores comparable to or higher than those in wealthy nations, despite significantly lower monetary incomes. Their secret? Strong social support networks, spiritual connections, and deep ties to nature.³
These findings forced me to confront an uncomfortable truth: if joy is declining globally, and if the very communities we might consider “disadvantaged” are outperforming wealthy nations in happiness, what does this say about how we’ve structured our modern lives—especially in demanding professions like medicine?
When Healers Can’t Heal Themselves: The Physician’s Joy Paradox
Physicians are not immune to these global trends. In fact, the very nature of medical training and practice may accelerate our disconnection from joy. Watching Kittle’s uninhibited enthusiasm for life, his tail-wagging excitement over a simple walk, his complete presence during belly rubs highlighted just how far many of us have drifted from such simple pleasures.
The Perfectionist’s Prison
Medical training creates what I call “the physician’s mindset.” We’re conditioned to aim for perfection, leading to chronic self-criticism and an overwhelming fear of making mistakes. This mindset, while valuable in clinical settings, becomes toxic when applied to every aspect of life.
The “go it alone” mentality further compounds the problem. Medical culture rewards stoicism and self-reliance, but research consistently shows that isolation is one of the strongest predictors of decreased well-being. We’re taught to be strong, independent, and unflappable—qualities that can inadvertently cut us off from the very human connections that sustain joy.
Then there’s what I call “overfunctioning” or the internalized pressure to handle everything ourselves. We complete tasks that should be shared, undermining team function and creating an unsustainable cycle of responsibility. This creates a brittle internal world where we carry the weight of perfection alone, systematically eroding our capacity for joy and connection.
The “I’ll Be Happy When” Trap
As I watched Kittle find pure delight in chasing leaves and napping shamelessly, I recognized how thoroughly physicians fall into the “I’ll be happy when” mindset. We delay meals, sleep, relationships, marriage, and starting families for the sake of our training. “I’ll be happy when I finish medical school,” becomes “I’ll be happy when I finish residency,” which becomes “I’ll be happy when I’m established in practice.”
But here’s what we all eventually learn: the demands never decrease, the pace never slows, and there’s never enough time. The goal posts keep moving, and meanwhile, we’ve lost touch with who we were before we became doctors. Our non-medical identities, the parts of ourselves that find joy in simple pleasures, gradually erode.
When personal identity becomes entirely entangled with professional role, we lose access to the everyday joys that should buffer against chronic stress. We forget how to be present for a sunset, how to laugh without analyzing why something is funny, or how to find contentment in quiet moments.
The Autonomy Crisis
Despite public perception, many physicians struggle with a profound crisis of purpose in the modern healthcare system. We entered medicine to help others, yet much of our time is consumed by bureaucratic tasks that feel disconnected from patient care.
Administrative burdens like charting, prior authorizations, peer-to-peer reviews, and billing queries consume hours that could be spent on meaningful patient interaction. The majority of physicians are now employees rather than independent practitioners, meaning we have little control over our daily schedules or clinical decisions. Increasing demands from electronic medical records, insurers, and productivity metrics replace autonomy and clinical judgment with rote tasks.
This disconnect between why we entered medicine and how we spend our days erodes our sense of purpose, fueling emotional exhaustion and cynicism, the opposite of joy.
Learning from an 8-Pound Teacher: Rediscovering Joy in Medicine
Observing Kittle’s approach to life has taught me profound lessons about joy that apply directly to physician well-being. Dogs don’t postpone happiness. They don’t worry about yesterday’s mistakes or tomorrow’s challenges. They find joy in the present moment a walk, a treat, a belly rub, or simply being near their loved ones.
Research supports what Kittle demonstrates daily: adults who experience regular moments of joy report significantly higher life satisfaction and better stress resilience. A study published in Emotion found that people experience an average of four moments of joy daily, emphasizing that happiness comes primarily from everyday experiences rather than major life events.⁴
More importantly, individuals who believe happiness is controllable report 32% higher happiness levels than those who don’t. This sense of agency over our emotional well-being correlates strongly with higher life satisfaction and better stress management.⁵
Practical Pathways to Rediscovering Joy
Reframe Cultural Norms: Challenge the physician mindset that rewards perfectionism, self-sacrifice, and isolation. Recognize that vulnerability and asking for help are signs of wisdom, not weakness.
Reinvest in Human Connection: Foster team-based support systems and normalize sharing both struggles and victories. Just as Kittle’s presence has reconnected us with neighbors and family, physicians need community that extends beyond medical settings.
Redesign Daily Practices: Build small moments of joy into routine clinical work. This might mean taking thirty seconds to appreciate a patient’s smile, stepping outside between appointments, or celebrating small wins with colleagues.
Normalize Joy as Medicine: Recognize joy not as indulgence but as essential to healing others and ourselves. Research shows that healthcare providers who maintain higher levels of personal well-being provide better patient care and experience less burnout.⁶
The Ripple Effect: Rediscovering Joy and Professional Renewal
Since Kittle’s arrival, I’ve noticed changes that extend far beyond our home. My interactions with patients have become more present and authentic. I laugh more readily with colleagues. I’m more patient with administrative frustrations because I’ve rediscovered sources of joy that exist independently of work challenges.
This isn’t about achieving perfect work-life balance, a concept that may be mythical for physicians. Instead, it’s about maintaining access to joy even within the demanding realities of medical practice. It’s about remembering that we are human beings first, physicians second, and that our humanity is not a weakness to overcome but a strength that enhances our ability to heal others.
Your Path Forward: Finding Your Own “Kittle”
Should everyone get a puppy to increase joy in their lives? Of course not. But for us, Kittle became a catalyst for rediscovering what we’d lost. Your catalyst might be different—perhaps it’s returning to a neglected hobby, scheduling regular time with friends, engaging in spiritual practice, or simply allowing yourself to be fully present during a morning cup of coffee.
The key is recognizing that joy is not a luxury for physicians—it’s a necessity. It’s the renewable energy source that sustains us through the challenges of healing others. Without it, we risk not only our own well-being but our ability to provide the kind of care that drew us to medicine in the first place.
As I write this, Kittle is sleeping peacefully nearby, his small body rising and falling with each breath, completely content in this moment. He reminds me daily that joy is not something we achieve, it’s something we allow ourselves to experience. And perhaps that’s the most important lesson of all: in a profession that demands so much of us, the greatest act of rebellion might be the simple decision to let ourselves be happy.
If you’re a physician seeking more joy in your life and unsure where to start, remember that small changes can create profound shifts. The journey back to joy doesn’t require a complete life overhaul. It just requires the courage to be present for the good moments that already exist in your life.
Rediscovering Joy References
1. Helliwell, J., Layard, R., Sachs, J., De Neve, J. E., Aknin, L. B., & Wang, S. (Eds.). (2024). World Happiness Report 2024. Sustainable Development Solutions Network.
2. Gallup. (2024). State of the Global Workplace: 2024 Report. Gallup Press.
3. Crabtree, S. (2023). Indigenous communities and well-being: Lessons from traditional societies. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 120(15), e2301214120.
4. Catalino, L. I., & Fredrickson, B. L. (2011). A Tuesday in the life of a flourisher: The role of positive emotional reactivity in optimal mental health. Emotion, 11(4), 938-950.
5. Lyubomirsky, S., Sheldon, K. M., & Schkade, D. (2005). Pursuing happiness: The architecture of sustainable change. Review of General Psychology, 9(2), 111-131.
6. Shanafelt, T. D., & Noseworthy, J. H. (2017). Executive leadership and physician well-being: Nine organizational strategies to promote engagement and reduce burnout. Mayo Clinic Proceedings, 92(1), 129-146.
