Sage Elders: the ‘dreamed’ interview
The Doctor, Sir Luke Fildes
At Sage we’re interested in the role of eldership within healthcare.
Elders embody wisdom that transcends age; they are those who have gathered insights through lived experiences, learning, and attentive observation. We recognise that wisdom isn’t confined to the years lived but emerges from the ability to listen deeply, reflect thoughtfully, and adapt with grace. True elders foster an environment of curiosity and openness, reminding us that wisdom is not just about knowledge but also about embracing change and the ever-evolving nature of understanding.
Elders like the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu exemplify how good humour can be a vital part of wisdom. Their laughter and light-heartedness remind us that joy can coexist with deep reflection, making our journeys more relatable and enjoyable. Whether young or old, those who share their insights with humility and compassion enrich our lives, guiding us toward greater connection and understanding in our journeys.
What if we could sit down with “Sage elders” and glean their perspectives on the art of medicine, the power of compassion, and the beauty of human connection?
We have been inspired by Michelle- Linh Nguyen’s questions on Canyon-Oak Questions designed to spark reflection, conversation and grow collective wisdom.
So here is our fantasy Q&A session where we imagine how one of our sage elders, Dr. Abraham Verghese might respond (and Dr. Verghese, if you happen to find yourself here, we’d be delighted if you’d be happy to share your real answers!)
1. What’s the most impactful book you’ve read or gifted? How has it shaped your life or work?
One of the books I’ve gifted most often is Anton Chekhov’s Selected Stories. Chekhov was both a physician and a writer, and his profound ability to observe the human condition has shaped my own work as both a doctor and an author. His stories remind me that medicine is not just about the science, but about the stories and experiences of people. His dual perspective as a doctor and writer has been a guiding light for me.
2. Which piece of art or music inspires you when you think about health and healing?
The painting The Doctor by Sir Luke Fildes captures something essential about the role of a physician—the silent vigil of care. It shows a doctor keeping watch over a sick child. What inspires me is not the heroism or the intervention, but the deep presence. That, to me, is the essence of healing: to be fully present with your patient, even when you can’t cure them.
3. Do you have a go-to poem or song that keeps you grounded? Share why it matters to you
Mary Oliver’s poem Wild Geese has always been a source of comfort. The line, “You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting,” is a reminder that we are allowed to be imperfect. In medicine, we often hold ourselves to impossible standards, but this poem reminds me of the importance of self-compassion.
4. What’s one piece of advice you’d give to a new medical trainee? And what advice should they ignore?
My advice: never lose sight of the patient’s story. The history, their narrative, is often more important than any test or image. It’s in listening that we heal most effectively.
As for advice to ignore: “You should toughen up.” Medicine is hard, and the emotional demands are real. It’s okay to feel. Vulnerability doesn’t make you a weaker doctor; it makes you a better one.
5. What’s a common assumption people make about you that you wish they wouldn’t?
People often assume that being an author takes away from my role as a physician, as if the two are separate worlds. But for me, the writing informs the medicine, and the medicine informs the writing. Both are ways of connecting with and understanding humanity. One doesn’t detract from the other; they are intertwined.
6. What’s the worst piece of advice you’ve heard in your field? Let’s bust some myths…
“Don’t get too attached to your patients.” This advice misses the point. Empathy, attachment, and connection are integral to healing. Yes, boundaries are important, but that doesn’t mean we should distance ourselves emotionally. The human connection is often what matters most in a patient’s experience of illness.
7. What qualities do you admire most in your colleagues or mentors?
I admire humility. The best doctors I know are those who are willing to admit when they don’t know something. They stay curious, keep learning, and always approach their patients as partners in the process of discovery and healing.
8. Looking back, what matters to you now that didn’t before? Or what matters less than it used to?
I used to think that being a great doctor meant being the smartest person in the room, having all the answers. Now, I realize that what matters more is being present—really being with the patient, listening deeply, and letting them feel heard. That human connection is more powerful than any diagnosis or treatment.