Abe Jarjoura DDS, MS
You stand at the edge of the curb.
The hum of engines, the whisper of wind, the pulse of motion — all of it passing before you.
You have a destination: the other side. But between here and there lies uncertainty — a street alive with risk, noise, and timing.
That’s what every significant choice in dentistry feels like.
Every new piece of technology, every hire, every expansion, every decision to say yes or no to change — is a crossing.
You pause, assessing the flow.
The cars of fear and habit rush by.
The lights of opportunity flicker from green to yellow and back again.
You look left.
You look right.
And somewhere in the silence between, you decide: It’s time to move.
The Curb of Comfort
Dentists are masters of precision. We measure, polish, refine.
Our craft rewards control.
But comfort — that sterile, perfect, controlled comfort — is the most deceptive curb of all.
We convince ourselves that waiting means safety. That one more report, one more analysis, one more quarter of “stability” will protect us.
But just like at the edge of the street, waiting too long can mean missing the moment.
No one builds a great practice by waiting for the world to stop moving.
Psychologists call it loss aversion — the tendency to fear loss more than we desire gain But in our profession, it’s more personal.
It’s the longing to avoid imperfection, to delay motion until every variable is controlled.
And yet, every breakthrough in dentistry — every innovation, every transformation — was born from a step that could not be guaranteed.
A Crossing in Cairo
I once stood on a street corner in Cairo — not the calm, orderly kind you see in brochures, but the kind that never sleeps.
Traffic flowed like a living organism — horns blaring, scooters weaving, cars brushing so close they created wind. The locals smiled when I asked where the crosswalk was.
A young man, seeing my hesitation, laughed and said, “You don’t wait for a break. You become the break” as he lead me and my wife across the street to reach the opposite side.
For a moment, I stood frozen. Every instinct screamed to stay put. The street looked impossible — just as impossible as some decisions in life and business feel when you’re standing at the edge.
But I had to move. So I watched. I studied the rhythm of the chaos — the patterns beneath the noise. Then, heart pounding, I stepped forward.
And here’s what struck me: the traffic adjusted. Not completely, not perfectly, but enough.
I didn’t run or charge blindly; I walked deliberately, eyes open, trusting both my judgment and the movement of others.
When I reached the other side, I felt the same exhilaration I’ve felt after every hard decision in my professional life — the merger that worked, the risk that paid off, the leap that taught me something essential.
Sometimes life won’t stop for you. You have to step into the motion and let the flow part around you.
That crossing in Cairo taught me more about leadership, courage, and decision-making than any textbook ever did.
Looking Both Ways
Looking left and right ( or right and left if you are in London) is not an act of fear; it’s an act of mindfulness.
It’s awareness, not hesitation.
In your practice, that means knowing your numbers, your people, your systems — not to freeze you, but to ground you.
You check your dashboards, your hygiene metrics, your patient flow. You study your overhead, your case acceptance, your reactivation rates. You see both the danger and the potential.
Awareness is not about control — it’s about respect for reality.
When you truly see what’s around you, you move more gracefully through it.
The Street of Risk
Every street carries the possibility of collision.
The associate you hired may not stay.
The merger might take longer than expected.
The technology might frustrate more than it frees.
But that’s the price of movement — and the proof of aliveness.
Perfection is not the promise. Growth is.
Crossing the street doesn’t ensure safety — it ensures progress.
To practice dentistry is to live perpetually between control and surrender.
We master what we can — our prep margins, our scheduling blocks, our numbers — and then we must release control to life itself.
To the patients who surprise us, to the staff who evolve, to the markets that shift.
Crossing the street is the art of walking that line: measured steps, open eyes, uncertain ground.
The Step
There’s a quiet moment between the decision and the motion — the half breath where you go from observer to participant.
That’s the step that changes everything.
It’s when you decide to invest in the scanner, or to merge two locations.
It’s when you choose to trust a new office manager, to mentor a young associate, to hand over the handpiece and focus on leadership.
The world will not applaud that moment.
But your life will feel it — that subtle click of alignment between purpose and action.
Courage isn’t loud. It’s the sound of a single step taken deliberately across uncertain ground.
The Reflection
When you reach the other side — perhaps tired, perhaps wiser — pause.
Turn back. Look at the street you just crossed.
What nearly hit you?
What surprised you?
What went more smoothly than expected?
Reflection is the final discipline of the crossing. Without it, movement is motion without meaning.
With it, you become not just a better dentist, but a more grounded human being.
Experience without reflection merely ages us. Reflection matures us.
Dentistry as a Series of Crossings
The truth is, you’ll cross again and again.
From student to clinician.
From clinician to owner.
From owner to leader.
From operator to architect.
Each street demands a new rhythm, a new courage, a new humility.
But the practice of crossing — of choosing, stepping, reflecting — is what makes dentistry not just a profession, but a philosophy.
Dentistry, at its heart, is a study in movement — from ignorance to mastery, from fear to understanding, from hesitation to trust.
Reflection for You
Take a quiet moment today and ask:
- What street am I standing before right now?
- What’s keeping me on the curb — fear, fatigue, comfort?
- What would “looking both ways” mean in this context?
- What small, deliberate step could I take to start crossing?
Write it down. Read it back. Then take that step.
Even a single step changes the view.
Look left. Look right. Cross.
It’s a simple instruction — for pedestrians, and for practitioners.
But it contains the entire architecture of a fulfilled life.
Because success in dentistry — and in life — doesn’t belong to those who play it safest.
It belongs to those who see the risks clearly… and step anyway.
Suggested Reading
Kahneman, D., & Tversky, A. (1979). Prospect Theory: An Analysis of Decision under Risk.
Kierkegaard, S. (1844). The Concept of Anxiety.
Gino, F. (2018). The Business Case for Curiosity. Harvard Business Review.
Kabat-Zinn, J. (1990). Full Catastrophe Living.
Abe Jarjoura DDS, MS
Founder: Dental Care Team Group
Control “Freaks” Group
Control "Freaks" 
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