more thoughts on the medical profession and connection!
Elaine writes to me of her medical appointment with her neurosurgeon. What is our relationship with these people with whom we are so intimately connected, these humans who save our life, and the machines and care they use? What is it to devote your life to one small part of the medical profession and interact daily with people whose lives you are saving? How is that for them and for us? Where do we place this intimacy in our lives, all intimacy, and is every meeting intimate? If we intend it so, yes!
Sometimes when I am blessed by someone on the street for handing them a dollar, I tingle so much inside, I don't know what to think. It is like God really is in there, re-arranging my bones.
I don't have answers. I know today I need to sit under a tree, close, right next to the trunk, and on the roots.
I think now of the book The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein. "Once there was a tree that loved a little boy."
And perhaps that is all that needs to be said. Perhaps my epitaph should say, "Once there was a bag of cells who gathered in love, for love, and to love." May that be the not-me that is me.
Sometimes when I am blessed by someone on the street for handing them a dollar, I tingle so much inside, I don't know what to think. It is like God really is in there, re-arranging my bones.
I don't have answers. I know today I need to sit under a tree, close, right next to the trunk, and on the roots.
I think now of the book The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein. "Once there was a tree that loved a little boy."
And perhaps that is all that needs to be said. Perhaps my epitaph should say, "Once there was a bag of cells who gathered in love, for love, and to love." May that be the not-me that is me.