Do No Harm

When medical students become doctors, one of the promises some schools have them make is to “first, do no harm", or in Latin, “primum non nocere”. The phrase comes from the work of Greek physician Hippocrates, “Of the Epidemics”, which has become a classic over time.

It seems obvious that in taking care of someone, you would not inflict physical injury or suffering deliberately, but some would argue that certain treatments do cause harm and that the tradeoffs between treatment and cure make the spirit of the philosophy less clear. When you add language into the mix, the concept of harm enters territory that’s even more gray.

Too often, people are oblivious to the fact that their words have caused harm, that labels can be deadly, that aggression in the form of language is real. Sometimes in our relationships, whether it’s with our families, our team, or our clients, our words can cause pain. Speaking the truth of your experience, taking a stand, or setting a boundary may be perceived as harmful to the person on the other end of what you have to say. Which is why some people are afraid to say anything at all.

How many times have you stopped yourself from speaking up because, “I don’t want to hurt________”. Even when you’ve been asked for feedback, silence can feel safer than the risk of enduring what you believe will be a difficult conversation, it’s easier to keep hurting yourself, until it isn't. Wearing the burden of a poorly suited life is exhausting.

I understand. As a coach, I’ve been accused of tough love, a concept I find a bit odd. There is nothing tough about standing in love for someone’s highest good. That’s probably why I often find myself engaged in tricky conversations, a witness to realizations, admissions and unexpected discoveries that ask clients to reveal themselves, to themselves, more completely.

Sometimes those revelations create a ripple effect, one that forces a renegotiation of their emotional contracts with themselves and with others. But as I’m sure you can imagine, they’re not always thrilled that speaking the truth requires them to do things differently, before it can set them free. Whether they do those things, or not, is a choice only they can make but sometimes they’re angry at me for being the mirror, the one that helped them see. That’s always a risk, one I’m willing to take, because that’s why they hired me.

What about you? Is there a conversation you’re avoiding having because you’re worried you might hurt someone? Is there a condition you’re tolerating that is between you and being wholly seen? What if you took the focus off harm and put it on love? How can you speak the truth in a way that will allow all parties concerned to live more lovingly? I’m not saying it’s easy. But it’s a worthy pursuit.

One of the things that I ask myself constantly is, what is my intent in speaking this? Has this person asked for feedback? Are they truly willing to receive it? Is there another way to ask this question, or offer this advice? Did I intend to be unkind? Did I intend to tell the truth? Did I speak in love?

Even if you do all of that, someone still might get hurt. In those cases, I take responsibility when it’s mine to take, make amends and work to repair where harm has been done. I also trust my judgement enough to know that relationships are meant for a season, reason or a lifetime and that’s a good thing.

When a doctor seeks to do no harm, it’s with the understanding that they know the present, and are working to foretell the future, with regard to the disease. But you can never fully know what a person is going through, and you cannot predict the future, no matter how intentional your words and actions. You can however make choices moment by moment to see yourself wholly and to live lovingly.

Practice seeing yourself as you wholly are with author and producer Kim Kuhteubl as part of a six week Visibility Practice starting September 28th called "illuminate". APPLY HERE!