A veterinarian’s lessons on pausing when the work feels urgent

The question that finally made me pause

My family, friends, and partner had gently been asking for a long time how I was doing, and whether I might ease back on my hours and responsibilities. But I had the “superhero” complex that many of us develop in medical caregiving professions. It is a survival strategy, born of a long-standing culture where stoicism is part of the job description.

Then came a morning when I was particularly exhausted, with all of the scary symptoms present. My husband finally said the words I needed to hear: “Is this job worth dying for, Sonja?”

I paused. Then sighed.

Then I realised this was not just about me. It was about all the other people and beings in my life, and all the potential good I could do for animal welfare and veterinary medicine if I chose to live. So I chose to face my fears and lean into the ethical responsibility of creating a new professional path.

Rethinking old assumptions about veterinary caregiving culture

Veterinary caregiving culture has been slow to change over the last decade, but it is changing. We now have greater awareness, and the language, to name the psychosocial challenges that exist globally, in every veterinary seat and segment of animal care.

With this, stigma is decreasing and compassion for ourselves and each other is rising. Collectively, we are addressing long-entrenched shame and guilt around help-seeking, whether for our own wellbeing or for guidance on challenging cases.

This asks all of us to build skills in effective communication, emotional intelligence and regulation, and conflict resolution. It also requires a bottom-up and top-down commitment to the people doing the work. Quality medicine and sustainable careers depend on it, and so does every successful veterinary business.

Where we can, this might look like horizontal leadership, a “go slow to go fast” approach to problem-solving and innovation, and a cultural shift toward genuine, activated compassion for the wellbeing of caregivers and practice leaders alike.

Staying connected to purpose without being consumed by it

My experience, alongside research on resilience and wellbeing, has reinforced the value of regularly reflecting on and reconnecting with our professional purpose.

My evolved purpose is to contribute to the global healing and wellness of all beings everywhere. Lofty? Yes. Unrealistic? No.

I am a realistic optimist. My mindfulness training helps me stay aware of my circles of control, practice radical acceptance, and lean into equanimity, the compassionate space that tempers my deep empathy for all living things.

These are the same practices I now teach, write about, and coach with fellow veterinary colleagues, helping each person create an individualised, sustainable path toward a healthy, integrated life.

Stronger together, for a healthier world

The need to reconsider how we care for ourselves and one another extends beyond veterinary medicine. Across animal health, human health, animal welfare and environmental protection, people are working towards a shared goal: a healthier world for all. Many are driven by a deep commitment to making a difference, but the scale and urgency of these challenges can also take a toll on those working to address them.

The One Health approach reminds us that the health of people, animals and the environment is interconnected. Addressing complex health challenges therefore calls for collaboration across disciplines, sectors and communities. My wish is that we become more aware of one another and collaborate more often, bringing energy, resources, and efficiency to our shared efforts to create a healthier world for those alive now and in the future. This is the heart of collective intelligence and resilience. We are smarter and stronger together.

Caring for the people behind animal health

The challenges facing animal health and the wider One Health community are urgent, and there is no question that we need the expertise, commitment and energy of the people working to address them. Yet urgency should not prevent us from making time for reflection, learning and meaningful conversations.

Investing in animal health also means investing in the people who are at the heart of it. Investing our resources of time, energy, cognitive capacity, and compassionate empathy is as necessary as the funding needed to put our strategies into action. Funding and strategies are essential, but so are supportive working environments, time, resources and attention to the wellbeing of the people who bring them to life.

So, I’ll leave you with a gentler version of the question that changed my life: what might shift if you cared for yourself as deeply as you care for the animals and the planet?