“Tell me something you love.”
I love warm chocolate chip cookies — straight out of the oven.
“Thank you. Tell me something you love.”
I love to read, to write, to dance. I don’t know yet if I love medicine.
We were gathered in a ballroom, a group of doctors and dancers, to explore the art of medicine through movement. I sat cross-legged, looking into the eyes of a person I did not know, struggling to remember what to say after “I love …” It had become all too easy to think about the things that I did not love. Only recently did I first think to myself that I hated the person medicine had made me become. So with each answer, I tried to reorient my brain, to move away from what I did not love and towards a love of feeling, of experiencing, of existing.
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