I have been thinking a lot recently about “Identity” — at BCBS, in my personal life, and in the times we are living in.
I spent my nights in October rooting for the Toronto Blue Jays, who lost a heartbreaking seventh and last game in the World Series. This was an expression of both my Canadian identity and being my father’s daughter. I was lucky enough to watch game 7 by his side. He taught me how to be passionate in rooting for your team and dispassionate when they lose.
I spent my days in October talking with yogis, teachers, and BCBS staff and board members about BCBS’s identity. The common thread was a passion for BCBS. Often they described the peace of BCBS — the grounds, the library, the diversity of lineages, the accessibility, the wildlife — they were most attached to as a hidden gem that needed to be burnished.
I have found myself reflecting most on how often, during these conversations, people were able to let go of their gem and see — and revel in — the gems others saw. There was room in their hearts and minds for the complexity of “AND” — that it was possible to be a place to deepen knowledge, and deepen practice, and deepen relationships.
In these times, many have doubled down on asking us — and at times requiring us — to choose one identity, and only one, and to wear it all the time. Humans have for millennia survived by being part of one tribe. This simplicity can make it much easier to navigate the complex times when many feel the world is shattering around them.
As I think about BCBS and the path we want to build together for our future, I find myself inquiring about how we go against conventional marketing wisdom and hold all of our identities at the same time. In this time, when people insist on simple answers, how do we dwell in and thrive on complexity? How do we embrace the possibility and fullness of “and”?
I would love to hear from you about the gems you value at BCBS. What do you want us to include in the full, complex image of who we want to be? Share just a few words that come to mind — no need for deep analytical thought — share what is in your heart
This might have been the last World Series I get to watch with my 90-year-old father. I will do my best to ensure that his essence, in all its complexity, is carried forward in his grandchildren and great-grandchildren — especially his philosophical approach to being a passionate fan and keeping his cool.
