Introduction to Exploring the Art of Being

I am an African, able-bodied, cisgender woman. My heritage is Ugandan; I have lived most of my life in Australia and I consider myself an Ugandan Australian. I am a specialist medical doctor—a role that affords me power and privilege in many settings. At the same time, I remain minoritised in these settings.

This status dilemma is a reality for many minoritised professionals who must constantly negotiate or justify their identities. My work is shaped by a biomedical lens, by the humanities and social sciences. My work is also shaped by my lived experience as a migrant, a black woman, and a mother raising multicultural children. I acknowledge that my work is influenced by my own intersectional perspective.

Narrative Meets Medicine 

Before medical school, I studied French Language and literature; immersed in words, language and narrative. Studying medicine was an immersion into different kinds of stories. We learned the canon of medicine, often by recitation. We learned to listen to human stories in a specific highly structured way. I graduated from medical school in 1999 and completed my training in anaesthesia 10 years later. As a paediatric anaesthetist, forms of storytelling are a part of my day. We use humour, song, play and distraction. In my final year of training, I witnessed a captivating use of storytelling; A clinician leaning in close to a child telling a story quietly as the child drifted off to sleep breathing calmly on the anaesthesia mask. A thought ran through my mind “That child looks hypnotised” I began to craft my own ‘hypnotic stories’ for use with children. This was my introduction to hypnosis. I travelled to Paris to study and learn clinical hypnosis. Paris is considered the birthplace of hypnosis. In the late nineteenth century at the end of the age of enlightenment, Franz Anton Mesmer’s Magnétisme Animale was all the rage in Paris. At a time when electricity, the telephone and flight were invented, the possibility of an invisible force acting at a distance was tantalising. I had come full circle. Hypnosis is about using the imagination, words, language and suggestion to help people view their stories differently. Through practicing hypnosis, I learned the importance of words and language in routine clinical care. Through the addition of meaning (actively enhancing placebo and positive suggestion while intentionally minimising nocebo and negative suggestion) we can improve patient experience by harnessing natural human expectancy. I hope to share my learnings and insights into therapeutic communication with you at Commonweal. 

Hypnosis is a kind, gentle and patient-centred therapy, yet negative ideas about hypnosis abound in popular culture. To find answers to this paradox, I returned to the humanities, exploring narrative representations of hypnosis in 19th Century French literature. Stories linking hypnosis to criminality, mysticism, mind control and charlatanism appeared in the literature and in the popular press as sensational serials. At the same time hypnosis was used safely to enable surgery; hypnosis was there at the birth of aliénisme, the precursor to modern psychiatry; and hypnosis was there at the genesis of the clinical case study.

Hypnosis served as a link between literature and medicine. Narrative descriptions of mental health presentations were considered to give valuable insight to the overall presentation. Scientific case studies were enriched by literary narrative. Considered experts in observing and characterising human behaviour and experience, writers were valuable contributors to the case study. This fascinating history of hypnosis will form another part of my sharing at Commonweal.

Cultivating Presence for Clinicians

Hypnosis gave me a surprising gift; I developed greater self-awareness. I became more aware of my own emotional state and how it could impact those around me. Through the practice of hypnosis, I have improved my capacity to notice, to slow down, to let go. I developed a greater ability to look and listen closely, and to attend to patients and their family. Using hypnosis required me to be curious, attentive and attuned to others; it required me to be present. Through the practice of hypnosis, I learned experientially that clinicians have the capacity to moderate patient and family experience by embodying a sense of calm, unhurried patience, an embodied presence. People often ask how we work with children who are suffering. I see my role as one of attending to patients and their families, accompanying them at a time of need. As an anaesthetist, I offer my expertise. As a doctor, I offer my presence, a readiness to receive their stories. Being present allows me to connect with patients even during brief encounters. In these connections there is a daily discovery of the joy of medicine and the joy of serving others amid suffering.

Presence requires purpose, an intent to connect with and serve others. Presence is embodied through deep listening and quiet stillness. Cultivating presence requires mindful self-awareness and reflection, curiosity, compassion for self and others and humility.

This brings me to my current work: Mastering the Art of Being, Cultivating Presence for Clinicians. I am developing meaningful, experiential ways for cultivating clinician presence to benefit patients and clinicians. I am exploring collective narrative practices, Visual Thinking Strategies and  mindfulness-based approaches as the foundation to this work. Over the last few weeks I have been exploring Commonweal, diving into readings, short courses and podcasts. Commonweal is an old English word meaning community well-being. I have learned that Commonweal is a place of retreat that has and continues to serve many. I have learned about the Commonweal Way, informed by three key principles: kindness of heart, consciousness of mind, and dedication to service and the Commonweal values, centred around finding meaning and cultivating resilience. What strikes me most of all is that Commonweal is a community. It is a privilege to be invited into a community that has healing, silence, kinship and a commitment to diversity at its heart. I hope to use my time at Commonweal to explore ideas for cultivating clinician presence through sharing, deep listening and quiet reflection in community.

Dadirri and Yarning

Australian indigenous culture is rich and diverse, with more than 250 indigenous languages. From these distinct cultures arise ancient, shared practices whose value is only now being recognized and celebrated. Dadirri is one of these practices. Dadirri is a sacred Aboriginal practice of deep listening, reflection, stillness and connection to country. Dadirri is rooted in Ngangiwumirr culture and was articulated for a modern audience by indigenous Elder and educator Dr Miriam-Rose Ungunmerr-Baumann AM. 

In an edited version, derived from the original writings of Dr Ungunmerr-Baumann, Prof Judy Atkinson AM describes Dadirri as follows:

A special quality, a unique gift of the Aboriginal people, is inner deep listening and quiet still awareness. Dadirri recognises the deep spring that is inside us. It is something like what you call contemplation. The contemplative way of Dadirri spreads over our whole life. It renews us and brings us peace. It makes us feel whole again. In our Aboriginal way we learnt to listen from our earliest times. We could not live good and useful lives unless we listened. We are not threatened by silence. We are completely at home in it. Our Aboriginal way has taught us to be still and wait. We do not try to hurry things up. We let them follow their natural course—like the seasons.

Yarning is a conversational practice used by indigenous Australians to share knowledge, stories and culture. Yarning is storytelling, knowledge sharing and building of respectful relationships through dialogue. Designed to build connection through understanding and trust, yarning is collaborative and respectful. Deep listening is an important foundation of yarning. Yarning often occurs in informal outdoor settings, in Yarning Circles reflecting the importance of land, country and community; inclusion, belonging and the absence of hierarchy; and the non-linear nature of dialogue. The word yarning is thought to be derived from an indigenous word meaning to talk. This anglicized form creates a beautiful image of knitting together. Commonweal, a place for reflection, contemplation, listening and community, conjures up images of a Yarning Circle, a place to practice Dadirri, deep listening and quiet stillness. I look forward to yarning with you.