What is the "identity" of this orchid I photographed? Is it her stem, her flowers, her shadow smeared on the wall by the sun's window-bent journey? Or does the identity of this flower lie deeper?
During the first quarter-century of my career, I thought of myself first as a husband and father, and then as a lawyer and later a hospital CEO. Perhaps, the reverse was more accurate. I was my career.
Raised in the 1950s, to be "the bread winner" when I grew up, I could only think of myself as being my job. My identity was conferred on me by my occupation, not by my heart or soul.
I discovered how mistaken my "identity" image was in 1995 when, after a dozen years as President and CEO of Ohio's largest hospital and founding president of OhioHealth System, I was replaced.
"You've done a great job," the board chair told me, "but the time has come for a change." Since both the hospital and the health system I ran were booming, this was confusing. It was as if I were an elected official that, at twelve years, had hit some kind of term limit.
For months I could not get the answer to who I really was. I had been a trial lawyer for seven years and by 1995 had been a CEO for nearly twenty more years. Now, out of a job, who was I?
This is the truth that returned to me when I read Liz Wessel's quote from John O'Donohue in the weekend edition of the Journal. He speaks to us as caregivers:
“Your identity is not equivalent to your biography. There is a place in you where you have never been wounded, where there's still a sureness in you, where there's a seamlessness in you, and where there is a confidence and tranquility in you. I think the intention of …. love is now and again to visit that inner kind of sanctuary.”
It is in this sanctuary that our true identity lies. Thank God for this.
Our worldly identity arises through our personality and the pathway we take across this earth. Naturally, our quotidian existence shapes who we and others think we are.
We may fall for the definition applied by others. When we do so, we become vulnerable to the praise or blame of the world.
When I lost that job in 1995, it felt like a murder because I was my job. When I moved into my next job with a public company, I still mourned the loss of my work in hospitals. When I regained a hospital CEO role, as President of Nashville's Baptist Hospital System in 1998, I first felt a surge of rebirth. My favorite identity had been restored!
Then I remembered the old trap. The only way we can truly live free and true is by defining ourselves as human – as children of God's Love. This is the real beauty of our identity.
This is why I love the greeting"Namaste" -The spirit in me greats the spirit in you. It is not the CEO in me greeting the nurse in you. It is not the doctor in you greeting the patient in me. It is our souls rejoicing at greeting the real beauty in each other – our truest identity.
-Erie Chapman
Leave a reply to Maria Doglio Cancel reply