The Gift of the Coronavirus Pandemic: Illuminating the Healthcare Practitioner's Sacred Intention

The Winged Scalpel, honoring our sacred intention.

Published on Medium today.

I believe that all doctors have a sacred intention.  Every healthcare practitioner does.  And when we as doctors are connected with our sacred intention, that connection is the true gift of our service, the intrinsic reward.  It’s not the financial compensation or the prestige, because when the sacred intention is missing, payment and respect will always seem to be in short supply.  It is the honor of being permitted to marshal every bit of our own life force, our knowledge and skills and caring to help fan the flame of life in another human being, to be allowed in, to be trusted.  We show up, we hope, we innovate, we cheer, and we cry.  And then we do it again, and again.

Here is the gift of the coronavirus pandemic: it is holding up a mirror so that we can see our true nature and recall the heart of our service.  We will adhere to principles of the best care we can provide and uphold the dignity of our patients and each other no matter what.  We will deliver that care in a hallway or a tent, on a telephone or in the street.  We will do it whether we are tired or hungry or at risk of catching the disease we are treating.  We will come out of retirement.  We will do whatever tasks need to be done regardless of title, no matter how messy or inconvenient.  We will do it when the government or our healthcare system has failed us or disregarded our fear, requests, and recommendations.  We will do this because, in our sacred intention, we are unstoppable.  We may fail a thousand times, but that will only make us search harder for a better way. 

The saddest part of being a doctor is not when we lose a patient—that can be devastating, but it comes with the territory.  It’s when we lose ourself.  It’s when we abandon our sacred intention or dishonor it by considering it naïve.  It’s when we sell it for job security or a bigger salary.  It’s when we silence it because we are fearful of losing our livelihood or being shamed.  When we cut ourself off from the very source of our inspiration, which begins with disillusionment very early in our medical education and progressively as we fail to tend to ourself with the same tenderness and respect we give our patients, we pay a price.  That price is bitterness, detachment, depression, futility, and more.

We can be angry at how our best intentions are exploited, how our promises are used against us, and how we are treated as commodities in a medical industrial complex.  However, until we recognize and cease disowning our sacred calling and neglecting to nurture our own soul, we alone are responsible for the devaluation of our gift.  The transformation has already begun.  It is being presented to us today, in the mirror of the pandemic.  Take hold, take heart.