I haven't written a blog post in a month. It's not like I haven't been writing every day. I've written some op-ed pieces (not all published), I've certainly written a ton of emails, many of them with recommendations to those either making policy decisions now or those who may make policy decisions in the future. I guess that writing is writing, although there is always something therapeutic about my blogs. They generally reflect what I'm thinking or feeling on a particular day. The past 9 1/2 months have often been defined by the first thing I wake up thinking about, the first email that I read or the first phone call that I get. Then, it's off to the races! I was a bit heavy of heart last night when I went to bed. Today would have been the birthday of my friend Jim Riopelle. Jim and I did not agree on much when it came to politics. I admit to being a little angry at him for dying before I had a chance to point out all of the things that the current president is doing that he deplored democrats for in past elections. Then again, it makes me smile. That was what I appreciated about my friendship with Jim. It was honest. That's a trait that many relationships can benefit from. I tend to wear many things on my sleeve, including my heart. I tend to tell it like it is, at least at that moment. I've learned, sometimes the hard way, that we only know and believe what we know and believe based on the facts that we have before us. My last job was emblematic of that. I look at people who still work there and recognize that they can't and don't know all that I do. In many ways, we all live in our own bubbles. We all see the world through our own lens. If we're to understand both ourselves and others, we really need to to appreciate that fact.
My friend Jim always loved to tell the parable about the blind men and the elephant, which apparently comes from Buddhist, Hindu and Jain texts, sending a message about the limits of perception and the importance of context. Without repeating the parable, I can reflect on how it is presently playing out in our world, and particularly in mine. From the onset of this pandemic, I've recognized that my life's experiences have put me in a position that is singularly unique. Having cared for nursing home residents, having viewed them from the perspective of a quality improvement organization and then finally having seen them from the real inside, I represent many of the blind men appreciating their portion of the elephant. Many of my colleagues are still feeling the elephant from their side. Some, have had the opportunity to see it from additional sides. But few, if any, have been given the true gift. That gift is having the blind folds taken off and being allowed to view the elephant in its full expanse. I admit, there are still probably things that I haven't seen. That is the importance of the parable. No matter how much we think that we've seen everything, we rarely have. Furthermore, even if we have somehow seen it all, every day brings new information that we have yet to see, humbling each and every one of us as we try to make sense of the world.
As I begin to sort out the next chapter in my life I will reflect upon my friend Jim and how he often forgot the fact that he had taught me this parable. He was always so certain about so many things. Nevertheless, over time, at least with certain things, he acknowledged that fact. I'm sure that I am often the same. I know what I know, until I don't.
