On Journeys
"A journey of a thousand li* starts beneath one's feet." -- Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching
Most are probably familiar with some variant of this proverb that is commonly paraphrased, including by President John F. Kennedy, as "a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." That is, to get wherever you are going, one has to start—chicken soup for procrastinators like me.
But this brings me to another, more personal interpretation, present in the original text that is maybe lost in this Anglicized version. The reference to one’s own feet and the implied gaze—downward—to these humble but essential parts of our anatomy, to me also evokes the necessity (inevitability?) of contemplating one's own readiness to undertake any journey, and the terrain to be traversed. Like a runner, at the start of a race, might naturally look at their shoes and the ground beneath, prior to the starting pistol going off. While being resolved, of course, to bravely begin said journey.
And that has been one of the tremendous gifts of the Primary Care Transformation Fellowship—that of reflection. Our principles of community engagement course assigned us a reflective paper, related to our transformation projects. Not having had to write papers for “school” in many years—writing for academic publication or a grant is decidedly different, of a much less emotive and perhaps more mercenary nature—my initial “fast” instinct was to chafe at being asked to engage in a time-consuming activity that was not directly “productive” of some tangible end. However, I found that being asked to write for oneself and given the chance to pause to contemplate the journey I was on, was a luxury that I would have never allowed myself otherwise. It was admittedly uncomfortable to write openly about how project-related struggles were affecting me personally—and by implication, my capacity to be effective in this work. But it was also extremely helpful, somewhat healing, and ultimately uplifting. For this I have the fellowship to thank.
Journeys are also, of course, subject to detours. Including ones on a planetary scale, like that wrought by SARS CoV-2. And so, when multiplying responsibilities were making it impossible for me to meaningfully participate in many fellowship activities, I found myself grateful again for the understanding and accommodation of the fellowship and its leaders—reflecting the fellowship’s philosophy that its intent is to support us as fellows in our work, and not be “school” for some abstracted academic purpose. The fellowship also created the opportunity to speak on this detour to a national audience of peers, about our institutional experience with rapidly expanding telehealth in response to the pandemic (in which the Department of Family Medicine & Community Health was a major part of the vanguard).
I want to express my sincerest gratitude for the many opportunities afforded by the fellowship. Returning to the opening quote (and continuing on the themes of contemplation and detours), I might offer as a potentially reassuring corollary what is maybe my favorite quote about journeys, however: "Not all who wander are lost." (J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring)
*li = 360 miles
Alex Cho is a Fellow with the Primary Care Transformation Fellowship Program. Email alex.cho@duke.edu with questions.
Editor’s note: Blogs represent the opinion of the author, not the Department of Family Medicine and Community Health, or Duke University.