Today at work we had an amazing speaker come and present at grand rounds. Her name is Dr Kerri Palamara and she hails from MGH where she directs the Center for Physician Well Being. During the lecture, we begin an exercise of turning to the surgeon next to us and listening to something great that happened to them last week and then we share. When the other speaks, you listen and vice versa. Listening. It’s so difficult. I’m an interrupter, a talker. But today, I concentrate and follow instructions. I’ve been practicing. With age there are a few things I’ve gotten better at, namely patience and making an effort to listen- stage 1, baby steps. Rome wasn’t built in one day, after all. So for these 2 minutes, I listen to a stranger, another human, another surgeon, a fellow, just finishing training and preparing to enter into life. He spins a beautiful story of hope and optimism and success and immigration and love and family and a first home and I feel the anticipation, warmth and joy in his story. It is truly palpable.
Suddenly, it is my turn. But I don’t want to share. I filter through the “good stories” from the past week, but they are disjointed and complicated and messy. I can’t figure out how to tell these in 2 minutes and I’m not sure they are good. I settle on my most recent race I ran/swam and despite cancellation midway through, the racers celebrated together and it was a beautiful experience. Yahdeeyahdeeyah. Yep. Lame.
And then our lecture resumed and I sat in the auditorium with a large group of surgeons from all specialties in all stages of training and I realized how many of them were strangers, and even the ones I know, I wondered about the stories they shared and even more so, about the stories they didn’t. Someone sitting right next to me, so full of joy, anticipation and I would have never known. And what of the others? Full of joy? Or sorrow? Or struggle? Or fear? We spend so much time together, and yet we rarely connect. We share the same profession and perhaps hopes and dreams and fears and nightmares and yet we know nothing of one another. This is the second time I’ve done this exercise, the first ending in the woman I was listening to crying tears of joy as she celebrated helping her adult daughter shop for a suit for her first job. In just 2 minutes, or as we say in Miami, dos minutos!, you can have such an intimate conversation and learn so much about someone from what they choose to share, or choose not to share.
Lecture continues and after a few minutes, the stranger nudges my arm and passes me his phone with the picture of his daughter. She’s beautiful, He’s proud, happy and beaming. I feel a sense of privilege to share his joy. This listening stuff may just be a skill worth practicing more.
Today, I think I’ll talk to a stranger, and I’m going to do my best to listen.
❤️
Pochy Marquez
Dra.
Tengo la oportunidad de hablar y escuchar a muchas personas que no conosco, por el tipo de trabajo que tengo. Cuide Niños casi toda o parte de mi vida y me gusta alternar con gente que no conosco ya que hago nuevas amistades.