Who Am I?

"The earnest Scientist sows seeds, the fruit of which
he himself may never behold.--  Cicero

To hear the question; "Who are you?" and the request; "Tell us about yourself" is a rare experience.

A chatterer and a scribbler, I look to what I say and write as relatively reliable roads to objectivity. Therefore past commentaries and creative efforts will be primary source material for this essay.

What we believe and, what we do and what impact we have on the processes of the world are not equivalencies. All suggest who we are. I will try to give each some attention. Easy to make long or short lists of the "thinking and the doing," it is more difficult to catch glimpses of our role in others' lives. They are as precious as they are rare.

I most recently wrote for my Fireflies and Bonfires web site:

"I seem to have always looked to the world outside my mind for joy. In fact I suppose that is as good a definition as any for the way of a scientist." 

An always curious child I was dissatisfied with any other than clear truth. My first genuine understanding of the nature of things came through observations in the woods and streams near my home; this natural world, the place for discovering the reality that makes sense of things. Evolution from child philosopher to pediatrician to oncologist to psychiatrist was virtually predetermined by such early appreciations.

Confidence in the inherent kindness of "strangers" is another thread that had its beginnings in my childhood and has woven its way through most of my life. I am grateful for my family and the many kind strangers who have more often than not made easy the exercise of deeply embedded, if not hardwired, beliefs and passions in life and career

My work has been in service to others, the alleviation of pain and loneliness. For extended periods this has involved research, writing and teaching. However I have always been first and foremost a bedside clinician. This is an important designation because it is within the intimacy of interaction with the other. Indeed it is there that the most most important stuff of life happens. Even when the body cannot be healed the spirit often is. I truly believe that greatest courage is shown when no one is looking. I served the role of the professional, "the kind stranger." Each relationship was unique. Each was transforming. Most are yet remembered. I cannot recall disappointment.
Having begun life as a shy child who stuttered and was fearful of many things, I wonder,  had not the demands of my work compelled it, would I have ever looked beyond myself.
The seeds of social activism were planted through service to the oppressed, the misbegotten and seriously mentally ill.

While serving at Atlanta's Grady Memorial Hospital I was affected deeply through my associations with many of the people who loved Martin L. King as a friend and pastor. Most moving was their reaction to the white clad group of us who stood on the corner honoring his funeral cortege. We were recognized and our presence was noted. Sometime ago I wrote a memoir in commemoration. I think of it to remind myself that someone in need is watching and to not be fearful, in fact to accept the obligation to witness for what is just. Though they killed him, awareness of the power of redemptive non-violence King practiced has been with me since.
During my second tenure at Grady there was much sadness in the first-hand experience of  the destructive power of terror. Not long ago I wrote a profile of one of that group of folks  who are imprisoned by deep fear and paranoia. Often having gotten into some scape and then run, he would be brought into the clinic in shackles, struggling with two or more policemen. (Now I suppose he would have also been tazered.) Once freed and treated with respect by a one hundred pound woman, a reasonable conversation was possible. Usually after a night of sleep in a clinic bed he would emerge fresh and ready to try the world again. Sadly most were doomed to violent death, usually delivered by a .38 caliber service revolver because they ran.

Anyone who has achieved my age has been tested through experiencing the loss of many attachments, capacities, and just things. I find comfort and joy in knowing the truth of things and, when fear has left the field, strangers continue to be kind. Bonds to lives outside myself give me understanding that the fulfilled life is more than just self-improvement. For the self-absorbed death brings the end of the Universe. 

I know that to not be true.

Yes. It will go on. The names are irrelevant.  As long as there are those who will  be good stewards of the planet, this sacred fire called life will continue to provide.

As part of the preparation for this this paper I researched the words of the mortally ill John Keats;"Beauty is truth, truth beauty"---that is all Ye  know on earth, and all ye need to know."

I discovered he directed the inscription on his tombstone to read:
"Here lies one whose name was writ in water"

W. Lorraine Watkins
19 June 2009

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