Walking the Walk

It's been more than a year since I've posted.  This year has been tremendous.
  • It was a year for listening.
  • A year for witnessing.
  • A year for loss.
  • A year for compromise.
  • A year for very hard work.
  • A year to love.
Ted Eytan, MD (who accuses me weekly of hoarding what he views are Tweet-worthy thoughts) is someone everyone should get to know.  We love to laugh together and I like to share my whip-smartz on him from time to time. But he's been mad and wants to out more of my thoughts and takes on the world.  Someday he'll perceive the introvert in me and realize that my quietitude (I like that new word!) is less about hoarding than it is about feasting on the brilliance of those around me.

From time to time I did hold back, it's true. But it was merely a measure of self-preservation as the momentum of thoughts and ideas accelerated beyond capacity for me.

Throughout this year of listening, I've realized that there is often little to add to a conversation when it really takes flight, as much of our Health 2.0 convos have. We seeded them, they started to take off. It was amazing and I found that listening with an active mind was as delightful as joining the conversation most times. Have you ever played loud music when no one is home? It's a pure indulgence.

Ted's passion and work, the very way he walks the walk has been more than inspiring listening for me this year. And his signature social ease continues to be put to good use: I am nothing short of amazed by the amount of GOOD he, Holly Potter and Danielle Cass have accomplished at the Kaiser Permanente Center for Total Health this year.

But there's another voice that's lifted this year. It's an advocate who approaches every speaking event as if she's a child jumping into a playground's fresh new sand box equipped with a couple of cool water features she's been given permission to try out.  I'm talking about Regina, of course.  She's archetypal; a wonderful balance of Mary and Martha, but someone who also possesses more than a dose of Wonder Woman's metal cuffs. (She loves Buffy, though.)  Either way, don't mess with her.

But, LISTEN to her. Listen to Regina's heart song...  The Holliday call is distinctive, like jazz. Soothing, like lullabies. BIG, like opera. And all her song ever asks of us is this: Respond. Share.  Play.

This year tested my strength and I came away knowing that I can accomplish a lot. Along the way I outgrew sharing my own story to a certain extent.  I put it into redevelopment :-) and moved into a my story is your story, and your story is my story kind of space that opens up a world more expansive and friendly.  There's a lot to cover here.

I'll continue to spot talent, to facilitate the spread of certain ideas, to clap and cheer for my team as we evolve.  We're here, we're there, we're here. It's a pleasure, really.  The connections to be made...and more.

1 comment:

  1. Just reading your thoughtful and inspiring post put me in a mode of attentive listening and self-reflection. I'm reminded of the title of the first collection of stories from the StoryCorps project: Listening is an Act of Love.

    In my own evolving use of social media, I have found myself less inclined toward output, and more inclined toward input and processing. I don't know whether this has increased the quality of my posts, but it has certainly decreased the quantity.