What do you remember most about the movie and musical Beauty and the Beast? For some, it is the powerful theme of inner beauty versus outward appearance. Others might resonate more with the music (“Be our guest, be our guest …”). For me, it is the vision of Belle’s inventor father, Maurice, and the townspeople laughing at his follies that has left a lasting mark and continues to trigger me at times. “Crazy old Maurice… he is always good for a laugh,” is what plays over in my head during disheartening moments. Whether it has been starting a T-shirt company, becoming a certified professional coach, or writing essays that share my vulnerabilities, this is where my thoughts can go when I step outside my comfort zone as an established physician. This is what I hear when the doubt creeps in.
Who compares themselves to “Crazy old Maurice” anyway? It certainly was not crazy to be a physician. This had been the expected path and goal for as long as I could remember. It was the academic and professional pinnacle for me. While there was fulfillment and gratification, there were also unforeseen stressors and challenges that chipped away at my well-being over time. I never doubted the journey, but the terrain began to shift, demanding more effort to keep moving with purpose and positivity.
I tried different tactics to steady my footing and restore my energy. I started a side hustle making sports-themed T-shirts. I switched from private practice to academia to slow down and reset. I became a certified professional coach to help myself and others with similar struggles. I wrote articles to share my stories and inspire others.
Despite these measures, Maurice began to emerge between the cracks. The creativity of my side hustle boosted my spirits, but there were T-shirt designs that no one bought and advertising campaigns that generated no sales. A year after my coach certification, I had no clients. I enjoyed writing, but there were multiple revisions and rejections. Without the sound of success, “Crazy old Maurice… always good for a laugh,” kept playing in my head during the silence of the setbacks. There are other fictional and nonfictional inspirational characters I should be able to identify with, but “Crazy old Maurice” kept appearing with the laughter seemingly getting louder.
The space where disconnection meets self-reflection can spawn a fertile breeding ground for “Crazy old Maurice” to materialize. Sitting in this space, it was not easy at first to acknowledge the successes. Still, I had climbed the mountain and accomplished my childhood goal. I counseled, helped, and healed countless patients medically and surgically. Despite being technically successful, I did not feel as happy professionally as I thought I should be. The conventional and esteemed occupational trajectory consisted of maintaining a long, distinguished career in a consistent role through to retirement. Yet here I was searching for other avenues and endeavors, feeling shame and embarrassment, and comparing myself to a crazy cartoon inventor in the process.
Despite the disappointments, I was not ready to give up. Maurice may have been “crazy” in nickname, but it is not crazy to courageously acknowledge the need for change and start creating it, however big or small. I recalibrated my success scale and moved beyond the typical balance sheet. Progress lived in the doing, and doing was more powerful than not. There had been small wins along the way, and there would be no more if I stopped. As I became more aware and genuinely listened, I realized no one was laughing at me.
Encountering tension and discord despite accomplishing our career goals is an opportunity to analyze our inner alignment. During these “Crazy old Maurice” moments, we need to acknowledge his presence and reconcile his meaning. We might yearn to be doing something a little different or even nontraditional. Maybe we need an inventive or emotional outlet. More than an awkward identification with an eccentric inventor, a “Maurice moment” signifies the courage to take a career turn or twist in a more creative and authentic direction and alter the narrative of the conventional measures of success in the process.
There are tangible measures of success like sales, awards, and bonuses, but we should not disregard subjective metrics involved in pushing through the doubt and daring to act. I would forever regret it if I did not try something a little creative, alternative, and even a little “crazy,” despite the risk and uncertainty. The investment in myself and my spirit has paid off many times over. The growth, joy, alignment, and courage may be hard to quantify but are just as real, if not more enduring.
Some of you may genuinely stay connected with your career path and may never encounter “Crazy old Maurice” moments. For others, there will be a transition or pivot in your life for any number of reasons. It may be the passage of time or the need to do something different. You might feel the need to steer away from the conventional or traditional. You might recognize your current trajectory is unsustainable. You might find the urge to unleash a creative side. During those quiet, contemplative moments, you may sense the townspeople’s judgment as you reconsider your priorities and motivations. You may feel the sting of failure and rejection. Instead of scorn and shame, Maurice can stand as a symbol of inspiration and authenticity. He was passionate and enthusiastic. While his inventions may have failed, and spectacularly at times, his optimism, determination, and persistence were unmistakable. Call me crazy, but in those moments, the only laughter that truly matters is your own.
Jayson Greenberg is an otolaryngologist.
