Mending 4: identity
Welcome to mending, a monthly haven where words meet inner wisdom, and stories intertwine with the art of health and healing.
At the heart of Narrative Medicine is a belief in the power of the human story. Words, among other human expressions, have the ability to enlighten and connect us to our most vulnerable or even seemingly insignificant moments in life.
These moments speak volumes to the richness of our humanity. And in sharing your words you support the production of neurochemicals like dopamine and oxytocin that activate your body’s healing potential and your brain’s capacities to overcome challenges in ways that cannot be understated.
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Your expression is where we find the intersection of Narrative Medicine and Functional Nutrition: in the recognition that everything is connected, we are all unique, and all things matter.
Each monthly issue of mending is a journey into a landscape of words, healing, and personal interpretation. They will be inspired by the gentle wisdom of poets and artists and the reflective insights of our guest contributors.
Why does this matter? Because in the riddle of healthcare, amidst the supposed precision of diagnoses and treatments, the human story often whispers, seeking to be heard. mending leans in and listens to these whispers. It invites you to do the same for yourself.
It’s time to explore the depths of your own narrative and the fabric of your human condition, beyond your signs and symptoms, or maybe in concert with them. Join me as we weave together threads of empathy, inquiry, and understanding. mending is more than a newsletter— it’s a dialogue, and initiation, and a celebration of the stories that make us human, illuminating their integral role in our paths toward healing.
Mending 4: identity
[guest: Sara Szal Gottfried, MD]
Make/Do
by Divya Victor
“Do you also make work that isn’t political?”
I mean, do we make work
about where and when we were
raised: the three-whistle corner store
the empty coke bottle trill
the nickname that doesn’t nick us
as we blow through customs
with a toothpick smile
and hell-no eyes, sweet fools
greasing the bike chains
for this day, always saying
someone better fix this street
light? Do we flicker at night
when the kids are sleeping
dim, bright, dim, bright, do we?
Do we, at times, make work
about who breaks the news
to us at breakfast and how the syrup
she’s holding is now trembling, how
she’s beating, beating, beating
what no one can now eat, the mouth
fumbling for what no one
can now say? Do we make it
work with mirrors held
to the bottom of lakes, with combs
pulled through palms, with thumbs
flipping the bills, with two bags
and three names
at the border?
I mean, do we make work
about the road that crackles
with sirens or about Dad’s hydrangeas
which came up again that summer
violet clouds of bruises and pinker
than the Hubba Bubba we were popping
so loud, no one could stand us
but we grinned and grinned because
any air left in us meant
we could still answer
years later
a question like this?
Question: What theme arises for you when you read this poem?
Contributor Answer: All of my work is political. For women, the personal is political. I feel the freshness of her words wash over me, how as women we are sweet fools who keep greasing the bike chains, unaware of the deeper potential inside of us that we are neglecting or avoiding as we continue to blithely overfunction in our roles. We can’t access the deeper potential in survival mode, and politics as well as the larger toxic culture drives us to run ragged. I often feel off kilter, wrung out. It’s not just my experience. It’s the experience of legions of women who are kept constricted and smaller than intended. The latest 2024 McKinsey Health Institute tells us that closing the Women’s Health Gap is a $1 trillion opportunity. Really? Why do we need an economic incentive to close the gap for women? We don’t, but we need women to stop consenting to the business-as-usual structures that hold us back from our fullness.
Reader: What themes arise for you when you read this poem?
Writing Prompt: Write about identity.
Contributor Response: Roles change, identity may not. Identity is housed in the first chakra, at the base of the spine. Chakra means “wheel” in Sanskrit and refers to spinning whirlpools of energy that exist in all of us but aren’t seen with the ordinary human eye. However, they can be seen, felt, and sensed with cultivation of presence and intuition.
I learned about chakras as a young girl from my great grandmother. I sensed that I could sense things that others couldn’t and was told frequently that I was too sensitive and too intense, that I needed to chill out. I work with the mirror held at the bottom of lakes. Sensitivity may make you and me more prone to dysregulation, yet it’s also a profound opportunity to sense what needs to be called out and corrected, such as what is driving the loudest dysregulation right now in our culture.
Like the boundaries and borders that Divya Victor explores, my identity is to be the woman who doesn’t agree with assumptions and misuse of power. It’s a role that few people want. It can be exhausting. It creates enemies. It involves wrangling with cortisol and dysregulation, and acute noticing when boundaries are transgressed. Isn’t it interesting how emotional boundaries map to our physical boundaries, in the gut and brain?
Truth pisses people off, but it also allows us to relax and to envision collectively another way. No one can stand us / but we grinned and grinned because / any air left in us meant / we could still answer… Yes, still grinning. After a difficult divorce last year, I no longer serve as a wife. After my kids are launched and the motherhood role is on the back burner. After moving four times in the past year and finding my center through it all. Identity is an inside job. Roles change, identity is solid.
“Reader: Now it’s your turn! Write to the prompt: write about identity”
Reader: Reader: Now it’s your turn! Feel free to hit ‘reply’, set your timer for 5 minutes, and write to the prompt: write about identity
You can also send your responses and feedback to scribe@andreanakayama.com
Guest contributor: Sara Gottfried MD is a physician, researcher, educator, mother, and seeker. She graduated from Harvard Medical School and MIT, and completed residency at UCSF, but is more likely to prescribe microdosing, a wearable, and an N-of-1 experiment than the latest pharmaceutical.
Dr. Gottfried is a global keynote speaker and the author of four New York Times bestselling books about trauma, hormones, and health. Her latest book is called The Autoimmune Cure. She is Clinical Assistant Professor in the Department of Integrative Medicine and Nutritional Sciences at Thomas Jefferson University, and Director of Precision Medicine at the Marcus Institute of Integrative Health. Her focus is at the interface of mental and physical health, N-of-1 trial design, personalized molecular profiling, use of wearables, and how to leverage these tools to improve health outcomes. Learn more at SaraGottfriedMD.com
