Slowing down in medicine starts with being interruptible
One morning I sat on the porch with a cup of tea and read slowly. Birds moved somewhere beyond the yard. Wind passed through the trees. The locusts were already loud. Nothing remarkable happened. And yet, after a while, I…
One morning I sat on the porch with a cup of tea and read slowly. Birds moved somewhere beyond the yard. Wind passed through the trees. The locusts were already loud. Nothing remarkable happened.
And yet, after a while, I had the strange sense that my mind had returned to me. There was enough. Enough time to finish the paragraph. Enough quiet to notice the air. Enough room for one thought …
Slowing down in medicine starts with being interruptible
