Share Your Platform

Hey friends!  I’ve recorded a screen video!  To many of you this may seem no big deal.  But it’s a huge milestone for Luddite me, and who knows when I ever would have tried it if not for Ozan Varol!  Readers of this blog know how much I admire Ozan, a rocket scientist, law professor, all-around benevolent contrarian, and generous sharer of his platform.  …And now you can get a tour of his Inner Circle site from yours truly!

I first found Ozan on my Facebook feed when he wrote about changing people’s minds. It resonated with me immediately. So of course I downloaded his free e-book, signed up for the Weekly Contrarian newsletter, and binge-listened to his Famous Failures podcast. Ozan pointed me to some of my favorite books of 2019, such as Insight by Tasha Eurich and Sex At Dawn by Chris Ryan and Cacilda Jetha.

Throughout 2019 Ozan grew and connected his community of readers.  Christina, Renu, Judith and I participated in the first ever Idea Lab (as they are now known), where three of us each shared a project and we all coached one another through ideas, process, and execution.  Ozan launched the Inner Circle maybe a year ago.  Here readers (I consider us all impending friends) connect around more ideas, projects, challenges, and common interests.  Ozan floats concepts for future blogs, shares resources that spark his curiosity, and generally stimulates thoughtful and wide-ranging collaboration from all over the world.  And oh, my gosh, the people I’m meeting!!

Dr. Karen Shue has recently joined and I really want know better this writer, neuropsychologist, and all around curious being who maintains three websites, see here, here, and here.

Tony Coretto, an apparent modern-day Renaissance man, writes about building the life you want, and he has built quite a life, from what I can tell.

What I appreciate the most about Ozan is how he leads by example.  He grounds his questions in curiosity and openness.  His comments encourage, and also challenge us to broaden our perspectives, as he broadens his own by inviting diverse viewpoints with respect and non-judgment.  There is no shortage of nonconforming views on any given community forum thread.  And yet I never feel animosity or confrontation, not even close.  Opinions are offered, not espoused.  IC folks come to learn, share, commune, and grow, because we see Ozan doing it right along with us.

When Ozan invited me to record the Inner Circle walkthrough video, I had no idea how to do it.  I asked my Facebook friends, and Don came through with Screencast-o-matic.  So user friendly, even I could figure it out in a morning!  It took only three tries, and voila, a viable, extemporaneous tour of a site I love!  And now I have a fun new skill—my horizon is widened and I seek new ventures in which to practice and grow.  Ozan gave such a kind shout out to me and this blog in the walkthrough invitation email.  And now I’m invited to host a community call around a topic of my choice.  Holy cow!  I am so humbled and grateful for it all.

***

I have a mentor at work, who supports me similarly.  So often he has introduced me to other organizational leaders, setting up calls and meetings to share ideas and initiatives.  His introduction affords me some instant ‘street cred’ with people who would not otherwise care to know me.  I don’t take this lightly, and I am beyond appreciative. 

How can I make the most of these most generous opportunities?  How can I be worthy of the possibilities?  It’s not that I feel unworthy; I understand that Ozan and my mentor see real potential in me and want to help me develop it.  I just don’t want to waste a shred of these openhanded gifts.  They lift me.  How can I pay it forward?

What do you do when someone elevates you like this?

***

In these intensely surreal and existentially trying times, people all around me express helplessness.  How can any of us, individually, exert any meaningful agency to change anything for the better when everything everywhere is so colossally out of control?

I believe we can always help.  Each of us occupies a sphere of influence; our attitudes and actions ripple out indirectly many layers beyond.  So, one way I can elevate more people is by sharing my own platform, small as it is (yet).  I used to feel sheepish when much of any post was someone else’s words.  Not so anymore.  When I find pieces that speak to me, that resonate and integrate with my core values and my cause, why not amplify widely? 

Maybe I have some valuable street cred to share, too.

Witnessing

So much suffering, friends—everywhere, all the time, every day.  It’s overwhelming. 

Our current circumstances feel like the most distressing case of sensory overload I have ever experienced:  intense, prolonged, and complicated.  Paradoxically, I also often feel like my head and heart could explode from sheer hopefulness—at no other time in my life have I felt so much potential for meaningful, positive collective change.  We stand on the knife edge of a continental divide of sorts, simultaneously overlooking the worst and best extremes of humanity.

People. Are. Losing it. 

Patients with underlying anxiety and depression are increasingly agitated and even combative, at home and in the clinic.  They threaten themselves and/or office staff, sometimes with mortal results.  Lifelong friendships are ending from irreconcilable differences over politics, ideology, and disagreements over social distancing and masking, among other things.  People lash out in rage at the slightest, often innocent provocations.  We doom scroll on social media, amplifying and reverberating (mis)information in our echo chambers, driving ourselves to the cliff’s edge of sanity with fear, fury, and hatred.

I watch it unfold before my eyes, escalating in the past few weeks.  I have joked for a while that the world may end in my lifetime; now it feels less and less like a joke. 

How we do process it all?  How do we get through?

Physicians, therapists, nurses, and many other professionals make a living watching and listening to people through their suffering.  Often we cannot cure people’s problems; sometimes it feels like we can’t even help.  But the truth is we can always help—all of us.

By simply being present to someone in pain, we help.   By not looking or running away, by sitting and facing them full on, we help.  By allowing, even embracing our own discomfort, and holding safe, quiet space for another’s suffering, we help.  We know this because when we suffer, the loving presence of others is what heals us first.

I cannot take away your depression or anxiety.  I cannot create a stronger social support network for you.  I cannot get you a job, bring back your deceased loved one, make the pandemic go away, or stop the next police officer from profiling your son by his skin color.  But I can sit with you in your grief.  I can stand in solidarity with you and advocate for our common cause.  Most importantly, I can take good care of myself so I can keep showing up for you and all those who may need to lean on me from time to time.  I have those who let me lean on them sometimes, too, and I make sure to thank them often.

To witness means to see.  The best witnesses make us feel seen, heard, understood, accepted, and loved, no matter what.  This is what we can do for one another right now.  It is the highest calling of humanity, to take care of each and every other as ourselves.  It is an infinite rather than a finite calculation.  Love shared is multiplied, not divided.  Caring for you feeds me too, whereas disconnecting from you costs me more than I know, and diminishes us all.

“Although the tale of human experience is certainly universal, it contains unique elements for each us and we continue the art of storytelling, both verbally and nonverbally, each and every day. While some stories are sweeter than others, all long for the benefit and necessity of a witness, for a witness assures us that our stories are heard, contained, and transcend time; for it can be said that one is never truly forgotten when one is shared and carried in the hearts of others.” –Kristi Pikiewicz, PhD

The only way out is through. The best way through is together.

Where Is the Light?

covid fairy penguins melbourne

Photo by Tobias Baumgaertner, Fairy penguins near Melbourne, Australia

*deep breath*

I always wonder about you, dear reader.  Where does this post find you, since we last connected?  How are you?

It’s a good practice to check in with ourselves regularly.  These nine weeks of sheltering in place have exercised my patience, awareness, and identity, among other things.  What have they done for you?  How are you?

For a couple weeks now I have felt all but overwhelmed by darkness.  Infection and death rates have slowed, but they will continue to accumulate indefinitely.  I worry that we will become inured, calloused, to the human toll.  PPE is still in short supply at hospitals across the country. Thousands of my colleagues continue to risk both their physical as well as mental and emotional lives to care for gravely ill patients.  They leave their families and support networks to become the sole supports for patients alone in the hospital, whose own loved ones may not visit, even in the hour of death.

Mostly I have felt burdened by the fighting.  The shouting, protesting, mean memes, and ad hominem all around me, directed both by and at my friends and colleagues.  Important reflections and insights arose this week that helped me see clearly the internal origins of my distress.  I re-accepted and re-integrated these parts of myself.  I was able to laugh out loud, exclaiming, “How fascinating!”  I know I will necessarily repeat this discovery exercise ad nauseam, ad infinitum—such is life, karma says, also laughing.  But for now I feel lighter, unburdened, more at peace.

So I thought about role models for peace.  I feel so lucky to have so many.  But one in particular shone in my consciousness this week:  Dr. Vivek Murthy, our 19th Surgeon General.  He has published a book, Together, in which he “makes a case for loneliness as a public health concern: a root cause and contributor to many of the epidemics sweeping the world today from alcohol and drug addiction to violence to depression and anxiety. Loneliness, he argues, is affecting not only our health but also how our children experience school, how we perform in the workplace, and the sense of division and polarization in our society.”

I recently watched a live interview with him conducted by Dr. Lucy Kalanithi, widow of Dr. Paul Kalanithi, who wrote When Breath Becomes Air.  I listened with one earbud, watching in my peripheral vision, while hurrying around my kitchen, preparing chicken and assembling a salad, all before rushing to host a Zoom workout.  It struck me that in stark contrast to my frenetic energy at that moment, Dr. Murthy presented only calm and serenity.  He answered every question with love, joy, conviction, and equanimity.  I noticed and marveled.  Then I rushed around some more and got on with my evening tasks.

Looking back, I have felt this serene and loving presence every time he speaks.  He has a way of making everybody in the room comfortable, welcome, and included.  Even if he’s interacting only with a moderator, it feels like he’s speaking to me personally.  He sees me, he gets me.  He cares about me.  In searching for the Kalanithi interview, I came across this lecture and discussion he gave at Stanford University in 2015.  I hope you will take the time to watch (or at least listen).  Notice how he shares stories of his parents, his patients, and people he met during his national ‘listening tour’ at the beginning of his tenure as Surgeon General.  Hear how he sees and knows every one of these people in their whole humanity.  Abraham Verghese, physician, author of Cutting for Stone, and another hero of the profession, moderated the Q&A, and also named Dr. Murthy’s equanimity—his peacefulness.  Notice how Murthy validates questions asked by students and faculty alike.  Observe his humility, juxtaposed with a resolute, unwavering point of view.  Do you feel it?  Does he not inspire you to be a better person?

Dr. Murthy and his wife, Dr. Alice Chen, have written an open letter to us medical professionals, in the midst of this global pandemic.  Reading it, once again I feel seen, understood, and comforted.  I feel true belonging in a proud and humble tribe of professionals, committed to service.  They shine their light on all of us, so we may see the path before us more clearly and walk more confidently, knowing we’ got our peeps holding us up.  This, in turn, gives us the strength and love to hold up others along the way.

I see the light tonight.  It emanates from my fellow and sister humans, and it saves me.

For a little more light, check out this Jon S. Randal Peace Page post with the picture of the penguins.  In it you will read about gems like John Krazinski’s “Some Good News” YouTube series, and Chris LaCass, founder of Pandemic Kitchen, feeding New York City’s homeless.  You can also share your own stories of inspiration and light in the darkness.

Where is your light today?  How will you keep it in front, as we travel this long road together?