This week I was asked to escort a group of new students from one hospital complex, across the street to another hospital complex. I dutifully led them down the hall, took a right, took a right, took a left, down two flights of stairs, took a right, long hallway, took a left, long hallway, took a right, down one flight of stairs, took a right, another right, out the main entrance, around the circle drive, long sidewalk, took a right, across the street, took a right, long sidewalk, around the circle drive, in the main entrance, took a left, long hallway, took a right, waited for the elevator, got in the elevator, took the elevator to the fourth floor, preceptor waiting, handed them off.

Somewhere between a long sidewalk and a circle drive I asked if anyone knew a more efficient way from one hospital to the other. One student quickly responded, “you mean the tunnel?”

In my mind I started screaming at myself, “There's a Tunnel? A Tunnel!! There's a gosh-darned tunnel and I’m on a scenic route slogging my way through traffic and 100 degree heat!?

I made light of it. In the elevator, I apologized for being a fool. How could I not know about the tunnel? One or two others on the elevator, not with our group, were openly amused. Openly! Amused! Visualizing this Pied Piper March of Fools.

Dummy! Dummy.Dummy.Dummy! I'm an idiot! Story of my life! I never know about the tunnels. But worse, I never think to ask. Or if I do, it's only after I have made a fool of myself. In hindsight though I realize that I am not a fool for not knowing. I am a fool for not asking. But then again, what is that proverb about wise men following the laughter of fools? Is it truly just to know to go a different way? Or are these wise men looking for new ideas and new ways of thinking?

Yea, though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Fools
I shall fear no folly, for thou art fools with me.
Thy nod and thy laugh, they comfort me.
We preparest a stable disparity in the presence of mass obedience.
They disjoint our heads with feckless toil, yet my thoughts runneth over.

Surely I shall follow the Way of the Fool all the days of my life,
And I will seek the House of Happiness forever.

And therein lies a question begging to be answered. They followed me! Why do you follow a fool? If thou art fools with me, who then is the bigger fool? Is it the leader who does not ask? Or is it the follower who knows but does not tell? Or perhaps it is the blind follower who does not know and does not ask?

Some might argue that until it is determined with certainty that you are following a fool, it is better to wait. There could be another tunnel. There could be a new idea or a new way of thinking. There could at least be new and/or different scenery. The leader is a leader for a reason, right? It's not possible someone could become a leader without first knowing about the tunnels; is it?

Ultimately I believe it is incumbent upon the leader to ask. However, I do not believe that excuses a follower who knows, from commenting on their Way, which may prompt the leader to explore options. Of course, not knowing the leader, a follower may fear reprisal, or anger. A considerate follower may also be reluctant to embarrass the leader by pointing out that the leader is a fool.

I can take some solace (and partial credit) from the fact that I eventually asked. Too late for this time, but I will know for next time. I am grateful that I will (likely) have a next time. Additionally, I wonder, if I would not have asked, would anyone who knew about the tunnel have ultimately said anything? And did anyone else in the group not know about the tunnel? If so, no one spoke up – for fear of being associated with a fool? Or for the possibilities presented within new and different?

Yes, it is good to ask if there is a tunnel. And a conscientious, caring leader should locate the tunnels and then consider the advantages and disadvantages of the expediency of tunnel vision vs exploration and discovery. Wisdom requires a considered willingness to leap. A fool frequently leaps without looking. The bureaucrat and the traditionalist live in their maze of tunnels.

So I suppose that if enough people have had enough, they might be willing to follow a leaping fool who is not looking, but who is also not in the tunnels. We have realized that there is no sunshine in the tunnels. There is no leaping in the tunnels. There is no possibility of discovery in the tunnels. There is no wisdom in the tunnels. And in the tunnels there is considerable fear and consternation. In the tunnels the only possibility for joy is in finding new tunnels; or in building more tunnels.

The tunnels are important and necessary, but we have realized that to seek wisdom, we must leave the tunnels. We must also come to realize that there are no all-knowing sages or gurus and there are no wholly enlightened thinkers, in the tunnels or outside the tunnels. In the tunnels there are bureaucrats and there are traditionalists. Outside the tunnels there are fools and there are those seeking wisdom. Outside the tunnels, those seeking wisdom remain fools because wisdom requires a considered willingness to leap. By definition, a leap requires some uncertainty, and only a fool would leap not knowing where, when or how they might land. It is worth repeating: outside the tunnels those seeking wisdom are fools still. This is why bureaucrats and traditionalists stay in the warmth and security of their darkened tunnels. Today it feels like we are following a tribe of traditionalists who support and advance a horde of bureaucrats who worship a pack of fools. We would be better following those outside the tunnels who still know the value of the tunnels, but are not afraid to ask for help, and who find joy in leaping. We would be better following those (fools) seeking wisdom.

This week I was asked to escort a group of new students from one hospital complex, across the street to another hospital complex. In the process I was exposed as a fool. But along the way I asked for help. Along the way I searched for wisdom. And in glimpsing wisdom, (still just beyond my reach), I learned something of value. I learned that there was an available tunnel for when expediency was a priority. I was reminded to ask lots of questions. I was reminded that we are all fools. I learned the difference between a heedless fool and a thoughtful fool. And I experienced the joy in leaping.