Friday, September 25, 2009
"First do no harm." —Hippocrates? or not, see below
"It is not only what we do, but also what we do not do, for which we are accountable."
—Moliere
First do no harm.
That seems an appropriate start for a blog that will aim to be about healing the world. I have so many people to thank, so much gratitude to express for where I am today, it seems the least I could do is to avoid harm. Now here I sit, paralyzed, afraid to type the wrong word.
Already I’m wrong. Wikipedia informs me that Primum non nocere, "first do no harm," is not part of the Hippocratic Oath. It first appeared in the late 1800s with a few proposed first authors. Though principally applied to medicine, it has been used more broadly with time, particularly now in the beginning of the 21st century. Is this because more of us are viewing a world the way a doctor sees a patient, as someone needing help? In wanting to help, are we recognizing that not only are our good intentions insufficient, but at times can even do harm if carried out?
Yet we cannot let indecision leave us frozen like Han Solo in the second (or fifth!) Star Wars. By our inaction we condone the status quo. Hence, Moliere.
In preparation for this first blog I listen to George Kranz’s Din Da Da. Daemond Arrindell spoke of this song last night during a 20-minute prose reading. That is to say, he had been assigned to write and read aloud 20 minutes of original prose, but what came out was pure, soul-baring, edge-of-your-seat poetry. The man could stand up and read the wordless instructions to an Ikea kit and it would sound like gospel. Daemond made numerous references to music, hip-hop in particular, Din Da Da in almost reverent tones, and I am compelled to find and listen to it. I am not disappointed. In trying to avoid harmful words, it feels right to move-dance-shake to this seamless fusion of rhythm and chant, wordless as those Ikea instructions.
In preparation for this first blog I have become the luckiest person in the world. Six days ago I married the love of my life, and if that sounds cotton-candy sweet, it is. It is the most wonderful thing I could imagine and more. Starting this life together—together starting this life—makes me aware of the family and friends who give our lives meaning, joy, possibility. At the risk of saying too little, for no words could ever be adequate, I must give thanks to all who have touched my life, and to mi corazón, mi vida, mi media aguacate.
In preparation for this first blog I was born, and for all that I am I thank my parents.
So why am I here?
To begin.
For so long I have been making my way towards this, and now it is time: to start, with what Patch Adams calls "seasoned optimism," a conversation. With you. About first doing no harm, and since that goal is ultimately impossible if one is alive, about the actions and inactions that each of us take while here on this planet for the time we have. About living with intention. With that let me begin.
love,
Ned
