Collegial Love And Then Some

Audible Narrator Hall of Fame Class of 2018 and 2026 Inductees

Who are your colleagues?
What connects you?
What do you share with these people that others do not and cannot understand or relate to?

Last week Audible celebrated their second cohort of Hall of Fame narrators, including a couple of my favorites, Andrew Eiden/Teddy Hamilton, and Steve West/Shane East. Andi Arndt, Hall of Fame Class of 2018, gushed about her colleagues on Instagram the night before, reminding me of that deep collegial love that I feel every day in medicine. My impromptu comment on her post stuck with me all week.

The photos of celebration and connection, the joy and energy of the Audible event moved me, too. I haven’t been to an American College of Physicians national meeting since 2019 (it was next weekend in San Francisco, but I came to Portland, Oregon instead, to visit with friends–hence this delayed post), and I miss seeing my colleagues from all over the country, going to sessions and learning together, having coffee, sharing stories, catching up.
Voice acting can be very solitary work, so I imagine these artists relish opportunities to gather and commune, especially when it centers around celebrating their shared love of the work.

I wrote to a VA acquaintance once, “I hope (imagine) that you get enough positive feedback, validation, and reinforcement for your work! 😀 I also hope you get enough contact and connection with your colleagues. I can always walk down the hall and consult mine on challenging cases or difficult encounters. We are friends. My professional support network is at my elbow and fingertips; I hope yours is too!”

I spent time this weekend with Christine, my life coach and friend of 20+ years. She described her experience of ‘supervision,’ wherein she was required to debrief with elder colleagues during a segment of her training, exploring potential personal pitfalls and blind spots that client work may uncover, and how to beware of and manage it all. As coach and physician, our conversations weave in and out of mutual support and informal ‘supervision’ in organic and collegial ways. Our work overlaps with that of therapists, nurses, and probably any other helping profession. Walking along the Willamette River with Grant today, we reflected on how easily we can apply our professional training and skills in any domain where humans interact.

Back in 2017, the night before presenting at general surgery grand rounds (unusual for an internist), I wrote about tribal pride and tribalism:
“We all need our tribes. Belonging is an essential human need. To fit in, feel understood and accepted, secure—these are necessary for whole person health. And when our tribes have purpose beyond survival, provide meaning greater than simple self-preservation, our membership feels that much more valuable to us. But what happens when tribes pit themselves against one another? How are we all harmed when we veer from ‘We’re great!’ toward ‘They suck’?”

Nine years on, how do we assess the relationship between tribal pride and tribalism in any given domain on the current geopolitical landscape? Surgery vs. medicine, staff vs. leadership, conservatives vs. progressives, advocates for vs. against AI… How can we maintain our human connections above all, no matter what our divergence? I have often thought of myself as a ‘lumper’ as opposed to a ‘splitter’–always looking for connection, commonality, and relationship everywhere, among all people. In the same message to my VA acquaintance:

“Acting and medicine: What do you imagine are the overlapping aspects of our respective work?  I see it mostly in story—empathy for and holistic understanding of the full human experience, from the euphoric highs to the most sorrowful lows.  For both of us, to be truly excellent at our work, we must call forth real and sincere empathy from our own depths, which is vulnerable and courageous in a lot of ways, don’t you think?  For you, the stories are complete, and you get to interpret and bring them to life, to present them for our benefit.  I get to elicit the stories, coax them to emerge in real time, and interpret them along with my patients.  What stories do people tell about their health, their lives, their agency to influence it, and the outcomes they can/not achieve?  We get to dissect and discuss and then act on our shared interpretation.  We edit and revise together over time.”

So this weekend I communed with two of my coaching friends. I spent quality time with Phara who has a degree in psychology, and Heather, a fellow writer. We bonded over parenting–the unique mental load of moms, especially working moms. This theme has emerged powerfully in my medical practice, no matter the moms’ day jobs and no matter our kids’ ages.

Colleagues share language, training, experience, and perspective. We compare notes, tell stories, and connect. But we do this not just in professional circles. Our tribal memberships intersect and overlap, often in ways we could not predict or design. So really, we can find love in commonality anywhere, with anyone, if we just open up and ask, no?

What a fun exercise to come across an idea on social media, feel it in my heart, react in real time, then process it for days and see what arises in stream-of-consciousness blogging while stuck at the airport! Tomorrow I get to co-present on health and wellness to the Illinois Judiciary–another esteemed tribe of helpers, as I see them. What a privilege.

My tank is so full from a long weekend of deep and thick connection with my amazing friends here in the Pacific Northwest. I will miss this year’s chance to commune with my fellow internists nationally, but I’ll get back to the office this week and soak it all up locally. How lucky I am, truly. I hope whatever your profession, whomever you call colleagues and friends, that you get to enjoy this deep, collegial love born of shared humanity. And if you can recognize and strengthen it across domains, even better. That’s what will save us all, I am convinced.

In Person, Face to Face, One on One: Crowns Lesson #3

“Openness to our minds changing is NOT weakness. It is the strength of intellectual humility.”

How do you come to really understand and know anyone, then overcome differences?

Many of my friendships have begun remotely–on Facebook, this blog, interest groups, even on the phone. But they do not solidify until we meet in person. It is the natural progression of relationship, to be in each other’s presence. The energy is profoundly different, the connection tangible and tactile.

Throughout the Crowns Trilogy, relationships develop and transform through repeated in person meetings, between lovers, adversaries, allies, strangers, and family members. Communication occurs through letters and messengers, posture and political actions, but it is the face to face encounters that challenge biases, build trust, and solidify alliances. Repeated rupture and repair in indispensible relationships, committed and restored in person through words, expressions, or acts, reminds us that there is no substitute modality for true connection.

Physical proximity is not enough. Connection requires emotional and psychological presence, the offering and acceptance of attention, and the mutual willingness to engage in good faith.

The main characters in Crowns overcome traumatic and tragic barriers to connect, and save their kingdoms, driven by two primary motives: Love and Peace. Why can’t we do the same? Norah, Mikhail, Alexander, and Soren engage one another and also themselves with intensity, ambivalence, and serious conflict. But they keep showing up, never abandoning their commitments to do the necessary bridging work for the people and causes that matter most to them. Consider how the following patterns apply to your encounters with people who disagree with you, politically or in any other domain. Can we practice these for the sake of love, peace, and saving ourselves from one another?

Multiple meetings. Important issues almost never resolve in one try. Anyone who leads knows this. The larger and more complex the organization or issue, the more iterative the solutions necessarily must be. Sustainable progress only occurs when participants practice transparency, honesty, and accountability. This requires vulnerability, courage, and a willingness to compromise over time. Sometimes meeting is unavoidable, such as in family or workplaces. We can choose to stonewall or refuse to engage in this case, but that is not an option for connection and conflict resolution. Concerted effort in repeated negatiation and exchange in good faith–diplomacy–is a life skill.

Cultivating connection. All of the above does not emerge immediately. We humans sense threat and danger acutely. It takes multiple meetings to prove safety and earn trust, during which commitments are honored and confidences kept. This is how relationships are built. I identify with Norah in Crowns because she is so often the one initiating and sustaining contact and engagement, and she almost never declines invitations offered by others. She exercises patience, persistence, and celebration of any progress, as do I.

Mutual respect. Over and again, Norha, Mikhail, Alexander, and Soren recognize and acknowledge their rivals’ strengths and merits. They and the supporting characters exercise objectivity in assessing one another’s achievements. When in the other’s domain, each learns and adheres to customs therein, even as they disagree with the beliefs behind them. There can be no peace or lasting conflict resolution without mutual respect.

Commitment to possibility despite heavy resistance. Countless times others tell Norah that peace is not possible, that war and death are inevitable, that people and systems cannot change. They cling to wariness and stubborn disbelief, rigid negative assumptions and prejudices as if they are immutable truths. But she holds possibility in front, with the primary assumption of and commitment to preserving shared humanity. Because of her advocacy and mediation, spanning the boundaries of belief and experience, the others eventually, begrudgingly, recognize and acknowledge the limitations of their prejudices and come around. Her idealism overcomes their cynicism and wins the day.

In the end everything has a cost.
Polarization, division, and mutual adversarial attempts to vanquish the opposition, at their worst, cost lives, whether through small violent confrontations or full on war. Social, operational, and economic costs also escalate, with lasting deleterious effects.

What does bridging work cost? For us regular people, it costs our comfort, for sure. It takes time, energy, and even resources to acquire and practice the skills. What would bridging work cost elected leaders, in addition? What if they all sat down in person, face to face, one on one, more often and earnestly?

What are the costs of not bridging our differences? I have heard too many stories of relationships torn apart by unresolved disagreements; the loss and grief are real and tragic. Openness in relationships also suffers, causing people to self-censor honest expression for the sake of ‘keeping the peace’–a fragile and hollow peace. These psychological and relational costs are exactly what fester and fray our social and personal fabric.

We all get to decide what benefits of bridging work are worth what costs to ourselves. I am convinced that in order to elect leaders who possess the skills and capacity to engage regularly, respectfully, and in good faith, we must be willing to do so ourselves, as citizens. It is now the era when we regular people must lead by example.

Because if not us, then who?

Crowns Trilogy: The Most Meaningful Fiction of My Life Yet

What stories do you consume repeatedly? What drives this?

I have alluded to the Crowns Trilogy by Nicola Tyche a few times since I first listened back in November. Tonight I’m five hours away from finishing my fifth binge of the entire series since then. How fascinating!

Regular and long time readers of this blog will recognize other books with this kind of record in my history, such as The Art of Possibility and Start With Why. Recently the novels Beastly Beauty and Never the Roses have left deep impressions on me. The thread tying them all together, of course, is the centrality of relationship and integrity to oneself and one’s core values, and how this then shapes our connections to others. That theme certainly persists in Crowns, but its impact feels deeper, more acute, and I could not fully articulate why until these past weeks. Many thanks to my dear friends who have helped me put it into these early coherent words. I had already identified that it was the utter accuracy and completeness of the story’s depiction of humanity–its tender, messy, violent, complex, and paradoxical nature, that strikes me. But all good fiction does that. What is it about Crowns that hooks me so deeply?

First Sharon asked me, after hearing me gush about the writing, to describe specifically what I love about it. First, active verbs, hallelujah! Then the dialogue, the banter, the clever and subtle humor. Then the performances. Katherine Kennard, Connor Brannigan, and Zach Lazar Hoffman voice all of the characters with both technical precision and emotional depth. I imagine the writing made it easy for them to embody the characters, because the words are evocative. Fear, anger, devotion, anguish, loyalty, conviction, ambivalence, and, of course love–the characters’ conveyence of all these emotions and more spring from each chapter right into my amygdala, sparking it in ways I may have never experienced before from a book.

Phara first introduced this series to me, and I shared widely and immediately. Donna and Anna both loved it and we finally gathered to discuss last Thursday. For two hours we professed our admiration for Norah, the strong back, soft front heroine and our love for Mikhail, the utterly romantic hero we all wished to know better. We gushed over the loyal and tragic Alexander and his fun and lighthearted brother Adrian. But we saved our greatest devotion for Soren, for the depth and complexity of his character and the scope of his arc as the strongest and most lovable (in our opinion) hero of all. I named our group chat Sorenettes. Asked again, so lovingly, why this series affects me so, I was able to get to how the characters all show us how we can change our minds about people, groups, and ideas, and the inherited and established assumptions that we had previously held as immutable truths. This story gives me hope for connection despite serious barriers.

But it was Sean, whom I referenced in another post centered on Crowns back in December, who really cracked it open for me two days ago. Meeting in the Den at Ethos before our strength class, Sean’s face postively lit up when he asked, “Cathy, five times?” Remarkable and outstanding. I was queried again, invited enthusiastically to go deeper yet. And then it emerged: validation. Crowns hits me squarely at my Why, which is connection, especially across difference. Over three long books and over 40 hours of narration, the sweeping epic that spans kingdoms at war, a tragic love triangle, and the full scope of human emotion, the characters persist and finally triumph in the work of connection, despite myriad forces that oppose and threaten it, even mortally. What cosmic fortune that Phara gifted me this trilogy just when the world feels so lost to our ability to connect in general, and especially across any differences.

The insights have continued to roll out over the weekend. There’s too much to write tonight; I’ll have to do it all in chunks! That feels right–I want to savor the continuous processing, unfolding, emergence, and integration of meaning and synthesis that this story evokes. I already have at least three posts in draft, which I look forward to fleshing out: Rupture and Repair, Clinging to Our Beliefs, The Freedom of Being Seen and Known… OH, I could probably right a post a day this November based on quotes and passages!

My current thesis statement of the Crowns impact on me:
It is our face to face, one-on-one, personal connections, forged with continuous and concerted effort, patiently over time, despite both internal and external barriers and resistance, that save us. These connections require openness, curiosity, honesty, empathy, integrity, and humility from us all, and when grounded in love, they can overcome almost any division, I am convinced.

What relationships in your life fit this description?

Interestingly, jar smile writing slowed down unexpectedly and disconcertingly these last few weeks. I sat down most nights with the intense desire to write, then found myself uninspired for the usual love notes. Fascinating. I managed to sputter out some decent ones for the Ethos jar before finally hearing the call. Lessons and insights from Love Your Enemies and Crowns swirl together like the sweetest soft serve ice cream in my head and heart, and that’s what I need to put into jars right now. I feel people’s desire for less adversarial, calmer, and more thoughtful discourse. I sense the distress so many feel that it may be a lost cause. It is not! There is hope! And I can literally ‘bottle it’ for us! I posted on Instagram tonight:

“Prepping to write mini jars of love notes for bridging work. Anybody want one?”
“We must mind our assumptions of others’ motivations. Ask what they *care* about before what they hate.”
“22 tiny encouragemennts to bridge our differences; will send to someone wililng to receive.”

The first jar is already spoken for, and I feel inspiration rising to continue and persist.

So much good work to do, my friends. And I cannot think of a better way to do it than together. Epic love stories and tiny love notes help, of course.