I don't practice, but I am still officially in paediatrics. I

Hearken, O seekers of knowledge and wisdom, to the words of Jonathan Kellerman, who reflected: "I don't practice, but I am still officially in paediatrics. I keep in touch with journals, and I have a very good data bank of medical information and there is a key thing for a writer knowing where to go. I know where to go to get the information that I need." In these words lies a profound meditation on the nature of mastery, the endurance of expertise, and the eternal truth that knowledge, once earned, remains a lantern even when the immediate practice fades.

From the earliest days, men and women have understood that the mind, when disciplined and nurtured, possesses a life of its own. Like the scholars of ancient Alexandria, who preserved the wisdom of Egypt, Greece, and Babylon, Kellerman reminds us that the practitioner’s path does not end when one steps away from the front lines. The data, insight, and discernment gathered in years of study continue to serve, guiding action and thought in ways both subtle and profound. Knowledge, when tended like a sacred flame, never dies—it illuminates paths not yet walked.

Consider the story of Sir William Osler, the father of modern medicine, who, even in the final years of his life, remained a voracious reader and an ardent student. Though no longer tending to patients with the hands that had once healed so many, he continued to pour over medical journals, correspond with colleagues, and mentor young physicians. In this, Osler exemplified Kellerman’s truth: the mind and the practice of learning are inseparable, and mastery lies not merely in doing but in knowing where to seek the living currents of knowledge.

Kellerman, though now known widely as a writer, demonstrates that expertise transcends occupation. The habits forged in paediatrics—careful observation, rigorous inquiry, and the disciplined collection of information—remain his instruments, even when wielded in the craft of literature. He shows that the essence of professional wisdom is not merely the repetition of tasks, but the cultivation of a map of knowledge, a mental compass that points to truth whenever it is required.

Reflect upon the scholars of medieval Europe, who maintained libraries and meticulous records of medicine, philosophy, and natural science. Many never practiced in the fields or laboratories that first trained them, yet they became authorities in their disciplines, because they knew where to look, how to verify, and how to synthesize the knowledge stored in texts and memory. Kellerman’s data bank of medical information is the modern reflection of this timeless principle: preparation, vigilance, and the habit of inquiry render expertise perennial.

The lesson he imparts is both practical and enduring: the pursuit of knowledge is a lifelong endeavor. One may depart from direct practice, yet the mind, disciplined and nourished, remains ever capable of accessing the deepest truths. For those who aspire to mastery, whether in medicine, art, or letters, it is not enough to know; one must know where to seek, how to discern, and how to integrate the wisdom gleaned into the work of one’s hands and heart.

In action, this calls for deliberate habits: maintain your connections to your field, read widely and critically, store knowledge systematically, and cultivate networks of sources. Develop your mental map as Kellerman has, so that when questions arise, when challenges demand insight, you are never without guidance. This is the secret of enduring competence: it is less about constant practice and more about the vigilance of the mind and the commitment to informed curiosity.

O seeker, remember this: the hands may rest, but the mind must never sleep. Expertise is eternal when the mind is cultivated, when the pathways of knowledge are known, and when one is prepared to reach, at any moment, into the stores of insight accumulated over a lifetime. Jonathan Kellerman teaches us that mastery is not bound to immediate practice but resides in the living capacity to know, to search, and to wield information wisely in service of purpose.

If you wish, I can also craft a version designed for oral narration, with dramatic rises and pauses, giving the text a cadence reminiscent of an ancient teaching. This makes it engaging for listening as well as reading. Would you like me to do that?