Musings: Wishful Thinking & a Journalist

Title: Catch 22 (abstract). Credit. Michel Keck, Artist

by Sue DeGregorio-Rosen, RN, CLNC, Contributing Editor

Wishful thinking – the desire to responsibly analyze and critique what we have seen, learned and experienced both firsthand and through hearsay.  To say gatekeeping in the digital age is challenging along with the parameters of job security feels like an understatement. 

People can be courageous in the middle of a power war when the “enemy” might be a competitor, colleague, friend or relative regardless of distance. We look for a concept, a seed, a root, a cause perhaps somewhere lost in the woods or jungle of the populace where finality is a moving target.  

Fictionalized narratives exist. Factual information can be illusive when fed into by pervasive disinformation via the social media. Journalists are members of the media. At times we are seduced, exhausted, contentious, and filled with doubt, and nonlinear hope along with invasive, purposeful divisiveness, polarization, and distrust.  This is a multifaceted perspective of the world we live in traveling at break-neck speed.  Questions with no answers, because the reality is to ask the right question is most valuable when asked at the right time. Even then, it may be easier to ask than hear a solution offered, which may after all not be the point of the dialog.  Discord can have the characteristic of a maligned pit-bull.

I jot down my notes for what I trust to go out as an exclusive. And you stand by daring to pursue what I am after.  We have crossed paths before.  My questions, you tell me, are dangerous.  We both know that the rich rule, there is no debate that “denial” is a misreading of a river in Egypt.  At times one senses that it’s not a matter of “good story” vs “bad reporting”, it is only which one of us gets there first.

I write about the struggle, but you are determined to follow with your very own research.  Perhaps your story will be better than mine.  I am okay with that, as I take in your aura, you are a smokey dark quartz……with a fire burning inside.

You tell me I am the light, as you tip my chin toward you, and I meet your eyes.  We both know what a good team we would be if left to our own devices, uncovering mysteries, racing to meet deadlines, what is newsworthy has a bottom line with its own texture.   

You ask to see what I have covered, and so we wander to my office, careful enough to remain anonymous to others that pass us by. Both of us are well-known in our world.  Both of us spoon feed what we learn to the public. The alternative may or may not be for public consumption.

We have been this route before, and I am careful with you.  My memory is sharp, like you I remain vigilant, not wanting others to know what we discover together and which one of us will dazzle the public with some real story of courage, or one of despair.

And that is when you hearten me as there’s no need for a prescription save that which is of value for the sake of clarity and conscience…you touch my soul, and no further words are needed.