So I moved to Gundagai, closer to family, and focused on being an excellent small-town GP: building community relationships, honing clinical skills with limited resources, and working with a wonderful team. I received my fellowship in 2022. Later, mostly out of curiosity, I reviewed the FRACGP-RG pathway and discovered that doing all the multi-faceted work of a small town rural GP is, in fact, being a rural generalist. And so began the journey that leads to the fellowship I received today.

More important than the credential was that I did it while continuing to care for my local community — keeping long-term patients, maintaining a steady personal life, and avoiding continual relocations. I got to get married, build a house, and now start a family without derailing my career. And all while living in a truly beautiful part of the world I now call home. Thus is the beauty of flexibility that is available in general practice. 

I’m not usually a New Year’s resolution person, but for the last few years I’ve picked a word to steer the year — something small, aspirational, and easy to remember. Last year it was “embrace.” When opportunities popped up I tried to do just that: I ran my first trail race - fell into a blackberry bush, which I don’t recommend. I took on a role in registrar supervision, and reminded myself to welcome the new and awkward. It turned out well, so this year I picked two words: kindness and courage.

Yes, I know it’s May. I was asked to speak here late last year — and, full disclosure, saying yes to public speaking requires a certain amount of courage. That felt fitting. It also got me thinking about how indispensable kindness and courage are in medicine, and especially in primary care.

Medicine is a wonderful blend of art and science. You’ve all spent years mastering the science: the evidence, the guidelines, the textbooks. The art — the messy, human part — takes a lifetime to refine. Textbooks are excellent, but life rarely follows a flowchart. Patients don’t arrive in nicely labelled cases. They come with contradictions, context, and history that won’t fit a textbook box. That’s where clinical courage comes in: the willingness to use knowledge, principles, and judgement when the answer isn’t spelled out. It’s the courage to make decisions in uncertainty and stand by them while staying open to change.

Courage also shapes careers. General practice is a wonderfully flexible specialty; you can design a career that suits who you are. You might start a clinic, specialise in a niche interest, teach, write policy, or move to a brand-new community. You might change paths completely if you want. GPs and rural generalists often become hospital leaders, regional advocates, supervisors, and practice owners. Those paths sound exciting — and they are — but they require grit and a fair dose of bravery. To everyone accepting fellowships today: you have a world of options. Now you get to design the life and career you want. Chase it with courage.

We should also be frank about the hardships. Primary care brings long days, complex cases, and pressure from every direction — the system, colleagues, and patients. It’s draining. Yet choosing a career path that replenishes you rather than depletes you, and summoning the courage to face hard days, is what keeps us in the work. For me, rural generalism offered the privilege of long-term relationships with patients and communities. I was told early on that it takes about six months in a new practice to feel like you’ve made an impact — and that remains true. Those moments when you see the difference you’ve made are unbelievably rewarding.

Now, kindness. In medicine, kindness matters both outwards and inwards. We meet people at their most vulnerable: delivering bad news, managing chronic disease, or navigating complex social issues. What we say and how we say it can change the arc of someone’s day — even their life. Kindness and empathy aren’t optional extras; they’re central to care.

Kindness extends to colleagues, too. It’s easy to be resentful, to assume someone else has it easier. Often they don’t when working in healthcare. Choosing patience, curiosity, or a simple “How are you?” can strengthen teams, ease tension, and make clinic life brighter. Kindness lubricates the gears of collaboration.

But I find the hardest person to be kind to is often ourselves. We are relentless self-critics, always pushing for more. Remember: this career is a marathon, not a sprint. Sustainable, fulfilling practice depends on self-care —which may look different for everyone. It might be reducing hours, focusing on certain types of work, protecting time for family or hobbies, or pursuing a passion project that keeps a spark alive. Maybe it’s running ultramarathons; maybe it’s paragliding — I won’t judge. Whatever it is, protect it. Give yourself the same compassion you show your patients.

Looking ahead, the future of general practice is bright but changing fast. We’re seeing more complex chronic disease and psychosocial needs, along with rapid advances in technology — AI, telehealth, portable diagnostics. Our role is to integrate these tools into holistic, long-term care, not let them replace the human relationship at the centre of what we do. I also hope to see expanding teamwork models where allied health, nursing, and specialists work actively together — not alongside each other, but with each other.

So carry these words with you: have the courage to act when the path is unclear, and have kindness — to patients, to colleagues, and to yourselves. You have chosen a profession of enormous responsibility and even greater reward. Enjoy the work, protect your wellbeing, and be brave enough to build the career that fits you.
Congratulations, and welcome to the next chapter.