I’ve wanted to attend Columbia’s Narrative Medicine workshops for years. Life finally aligned to make that possible this past weekend as I joined professionals from different disciplines gathered to address “Burnout in Health Care: The Need for Narrative.” As a wellness champion for my physician group, this year’s topic was particularly pertinent to my work and practice.

The conference consisted of lectures from leaders in the field of narrative medicine alternating with small group breakout sessions. I was fortunate enough to have Dr. Rita Charon, who inaugurated the field of narrative medicine, facilitate two of my group’s sessions, which consisted of close reading and reflective writing and sharing. This format allows for in depth discussion with medical and humanities professionals, as well as time for introspection about how best to expand on learned concepts and practices when we return home.

Several takeaways for me:

Narrative can be used to address many issues in healthcare, burnout among them. I’ve been facilitating a Literature & Medicine program for my own physician group, and have taught narrative medicine small group sessions to resident physicians, but am inspired to do more of this work to expand the reach to medical professionals and patients. Dr. Charon encouraged us to disseminate the skills deepened through the humanities, that these are what’s missing from a health care system that has become depersonalized. Skills learned through narrative medicine can improve team cohesion, address moral injury and bias.

Writer Nellie Herman offered Viktor Frankel’s words: the primary force of an individual is to find meaning in life. Herman showed us how writing can help us find that meaning, giving shape to our experiences, our memories. Harnessing creativity can be particularly important for those of us who experience moral injury because “when we write, we externalize what is inside us.” Through writing and sharing, we’re making a commitment to something, a raw, less mediated version of events. Through this vulnerability we connect to others; though difficult, that’s what makes it valuable.

Dr. Kelley Skeff approaches burnout and narrative from a physician educator’s perspective. It is not lost on anyone who has been a medical resident or trained them that “we have trained people to take care of patients, even if it kills them. We have trained people to keep quiet.” Skeff offers us this quote from Richard Gunderman: “Professional burnout is the sum total of hundreds and thousands of tiny betrayals of purpose, each one so minute that it hardly attracts notice.” He implores us to combat the code of silence and ask ourselves and each other: What’s distressing you?

Maura Spiegel contends that “narrative language can proliferate meaning.” Spiegel used film clips to show how we can gain access to our own experience. In watching a film, we’re not called upon to respond, but we are often running our own parallel stories along with the movie. Spiegel showed clips from the movies “Moonlight,” “Ikiru,” and “Philadelphia,” and the documentary “The Waiting Room.” In that final clip we saw a young doctor run a code in the Emergency Room where a teenage boy dies. He then is tasked with telling the family the devastating news. He seeks out support from his colleagues on how to do this. Spiegel notes a quote from Jonathan Shay: “Recovery happens only in community.”

I was bolstered to hear about he the work of Craig Irvine and Dr. Deepu Gowda, who discussed how to create a culture for narrative work, both in academic institutions and in clinics. Dr. Gowda explored using narrative medicine sessions with the entire medical team (including nursing staff, administrators, physicians) and found improved teamwork, collaboration, and communication. Both suggested building a team of people interested in narrative work, be they art historians, philosophers, writers, physicians, or psychologists.

More than anything, this workshop churned up ideas and inspired methods that could be used at my own workplace to use narrative work to address burnout. I came away encouraged and connected to colleagues who are interested in the same questions and in addressing the daunting problem we face in our current health care system. Ultimately, we want to “allow voices to be heard, and address suffering, not only of patients but also of medical providers.” This work is challenging, but necessary. As Tavis Apramian noted in the final lecture of the conference, “the meaning that we draw from other people is the reason to keep going.” That it is. I hope to continue learning about this important work and am grateful for the faculty at Columbia who inspire tributaries (or rhizomes!) of narrative and creativity throughout the medical world.