Journal of Sacred Work

Day 182 - The Comfort of Fantasy

"After the injection, he'll be an ordinary human being. And you know what stinkers they are."
- from the movie "Harvey"  (1950)

   Elwood P. Dowd, the character played by Jimmy Stewart in the movie version of Harvey, is about as charming as they come. He's tolerant, funny, kind and, above all, loving. Of course, that's because he's not a "normal" human being.
   The core of Dowd's life is his fantasy that he has a friend, a six foot rabbit named Harvey. It's outlandish, of course. But that's just us normal human beings scoffing at the imagination of a person everyone concludes must be crazy. And he's so lovable we still enjoy the character he created.
   If a four year old concocted such a fantasy about an imaginary rabbit, we would think it was funny. My older sister, an only child for six years until I was born, created an imaginary friend named Teely. Her friend could be, as can any imaginary creation can be, anything my sister wanted her to be. She would play the way Ann wanted her to play. She would cooperate, laugh at my sister's jokes, and join her for tea around the plastic tea set.
     Caregivers must know that so many of their patients, especially the older ones, live in other worlds. The current world, with its illnesses and disabilities, is so difficult...

Days 179-181 - Open Forum

Welcome to these Open Forum days. Please share any thoughts you have for other caregivers by clicking on Comments, below.
Thank you!
Erie

Day 178 - Peace and all good

Today's meditation was written by Cathy Self, Senior Vice-President for the Baptist Healing Trust.

     The words of St. Francis of Assisi hang as a touchpad at my door's entrance: pax et buonum - peace and all good. These are the words St. Francis of Assisi is said to have used in leave taking whether in writing or in person. His words of blessing came to mind recently as I toured Alive Hospice here in Nashville earlier this week. This is a place renowned for radically loving those who enter its doors. It is a place of peace and all good. Walking through the hallways of the hospice residence, the quiet and almost invisible presence of the caregivers there reached me in deep and almost forgotten places. How many hundreds of hours of silent and unacknowledged care have the hands of these caregivers provided? Countless days of tender care, competent skill, loving hearts, and soft hands have been offered over and over to those who may not see or hear or even feel the gifts being provided, all without fanfare or formal recognition in the moment of the giving.

   

Days 176-177 - What is Real?

  Miles Chapman has grown to an age where he has begun to challenge reality. At age four, he has taken to advising his toy puppets that they are not real. When his Dad makes the puppet ask, "What do you mean?" my grandson responds by saying, "You are just pretend. My Daddy is making you talk."
   Needless to say, this poses an interesting existential question. If the puppets are not real, why is Miles talking to them?
    The great wish of Pinocchio, of course, was to be a real boy - to be human. Miles sees that he is human and puppets not. But, he's still unclear about what the puppet is?   
   Children are constantly teaching us if we are listening. There have been days when I look in the mirror and hear myself saying to my image: Are you real?
   There are many layers to such a question, aren't there? There is the literal inquiry about my physical existence. There is a second meaning which tests whether I am presenting a truthful face to the world. And there are also questions about what it means to be real as a human being with a time-limited existence.
   One of the fascinations for caregivers who are present to the dying is the notion of what happens in that split-second when life departs. It can be a sacred moment for anyone near. Or it can be an ordinary moment ignored as a mere transaction by a worker who's doing a job rather than responding to a calling.
   What does it mean for you to be real in your work as a caregiver?

-Erie Chapman

Day 175 - Summer Solstice

  Druids celebrated the summer solstice as the wedding of heaven and earth. The Catholic tradition celebrates it as the Nativity of St. John the Baptist. How did you celebrate the longest day of the year last Friday eve?
   Sometimes the event falls on June 21. This year, it occurred, technically, on June 20.
   The real question, of course, is not the length of our days, but how we live them. If we never find our sacred eyes, it doesn't matter how long the day is because our heart will never notice.
   So many struggle to live longer lives as opposed to living better lives. As any afflicted old person can tell you, life may not feel so precious when its quality has been compromised.
   That is the gift each caregiver brings to those who suffer in illness. Caregivers can heal with loving care as well as with medicine. They can restore meaning to broken lives with the special touch of their hands and hearts. 
   You may have missed the experience of watching the last rays of light as they faded into Friday night. You may have been standing by a bedside, filling out a chart, or starting the night shift.
   Whether you noticed the length of the day or not, I hope you will celebrate love in each hour that remains in this year. How are you doing drinking in the quality of your days? Which is more important to you, the length of your minutes, or their quality? How do you invite the exquisite into your life?

-Erie Chapman

Days 172-174 - Open Forum

These are Open Forum days. Please share your thoughts with caregivers by clicking on Comments, below.
Thank you
Erie Chapman

Day 171 - Healing With Love - Not Just Another Phrase

Today's meditation was written by Cathy Self, Senior Vice President for the Baptist Healing Trust.

     The title of today's meditation is crafted of literally powerful words. The intention with which we come into relationship with ourselves, with others, and with the world has great power. Whether by invitation, belief, or hope, we participate in the creation of something that is, increasingly, believed to produce physical effects in ourselves and others. Distant healing is a phrase that has been recognized and used by the National Institutes of Health for almost a decade. Numerous studies seem to show a cause and effect relationship between prayer and physical healing - even in patients who did not know they were being prayed for. In some sources, rather than prayer, this phenomenon is referred to as energy healing, spiritual healing, or non-local healing.

     One author has captured the results of hundreds of scientific studies and suggests that our beliefs and emotions can actually trigger genes to "turn on," and some of these turned-on genes appear to then affect certain aspects of our immune system such as the production of white blood cells that are so important to the body's defense against bacteria and viruses. There are even studies that have shown the impact of spoken words and even thoughts on how water freezes.* We have within us, it appears, the potential to actually heal with Love.

Day 169 & 170 - Prayers for you...

  Three different friends have come to me recently with news of how cancer has touched their lives. In each case, one of the things I have said is, "You will be in my prayers." I know what that means for me, but what does it mean for you?
   One former colleague, a Methodist who converted to Catholicism, used to carry with him a long list of people he was praying for. Periodically, he would point out to me that I was on his list. I sometimes wondered what that meant, but I never asked him. Sometimes, we were competitors. During that time, was he praying that God would give him a victory or that I would see things his way? Or was he praying that God would bring Love and peace into my life?  Does it matter either way?
   One of our most troubling tendencies, as humans, is our practice of passing judgment. I wonder if this tendency creeps into our prayers? As I have raised before, do fans at football games pray for the victory of one over the other, thus concluding that the "other" is somehow bad and not deserving of victory?
   For caregivers inclined to prayer, the question becomes how we pray for others, as well as how we approach God personally. This intensely individual question is, of course, determined by how we think about God. If God is a judging and terrifying image to us, that will create one kind of supplication. If God is Love, it creates another kind of prayer.
   Most of King David's Psalms expressed gratitude to God...

Day 168 - Invitation

  The first time I remember hearing the word was in connection with a birthday party. "You've been invited to a party, Chip," my mother told me, using my nickname. What I quickly understood about this is that I was being included in something special. And there was something I was supposed to do in return. I needed to bring a gift.
   Each of you, as caregivers, has been invited into the life of someone in need. The caregiver-patient relationship can be especially intimate. You may be present on the last day of a patient's life. You may be there at the first. In between, you may be nearby at times of exquisite pain.
   In return for this invitation, you are called to bring a gift. What are some of your recollections of the times you have brought gifts in response to the invitation that caregiving offers? You are invited to share your comments.

-Erie Chapman

Days 165-167 Open Forum

You are invited to contribute your thoughts for caregiver through the Journal by clicking on Comments, below.
Thank you,
Erie

Day 164 - Centered in the Both/And

Today's meditation was written by Cathy Self, Senior Vice President for the Baptist Healing Trust.

"Life is both sides and ongoing. Life is always and all ways."  - Michael Brown

     "The path into an authentically joyful life experience is only possible when we embrace every single experience that life has to offer. Joy stems from embracing the beauty, the fragrance, and the thorns of life," suggests Michael Brown, author of The Presence Process. His words came to mind as I read in this week's journal Erie Chapman's writing and others' thoughts about finding our immovable center. Brown talks about embracing every moment, no matter how rough or difficult as the key to experiencing integration. In fact, embracing every moment offers the opportunity to see and accept every expression of life as a manifestation of Love, whether the rose petal or the thorn. I don't think this implies that life is meant to be easy - tears will still flow, pain will still be sharp and dull and intense; the prick of the thorn may be sudden, or unrelenting. But perhaps the thorn can teach, remind, and sometimes not so gently cause us to slow down. I wonder if those who seem to have found their immovable center are the ones who have courageously found a way to welcome the thorn into their lives along with the beauty and fragrance of its rose?

Days 162-163 - The Immovable Center

Find your immovable center and you can survive anything.  - Joseph Campbell

   Does Campbell's statement ring true for you? Perhaps, in order to find our "immovable center" we need to have experienced things that shake this center to its foundations. What are the earthquakes that have attacked your sense of balance?
   As someone who has lived with a chronic disease since the age of 19, I have had a chance to test the strength of this center. Like most people, I find myself moving closer and further from contact with the kind of strength we need to survive.
   Martha Chapman, my younger sister, found her center very early in life. Born with a disability, as opposed to acquiring a disability later in life, she grew up knowing from the start that she looked different from everyone else. Her short stature drew rudeness from strangers and friends alike. Her tears watered her immovable center causing it to grow stronger and stronger. Today, she is one of the most balanced and loving people I know.
   Finding and connecting with our center is an enormous challenge. How do you stay centered?

-Erie Chapman

Day 161 - Summer Sunday on a Monday

Sunday Morning

You will know about
my Sunday morning
if you listen
with the white
ears of the oak-leaf hydrangea
as she raises her mouth
to drink the water
I rain down her throat.

By seven o’clock,
every cell of the sky
sings blue.

In the still air,
the sun gloves the maple’s thigh...

Days 158-160 - Open Forum

Click on Comments, below, to share any thoughts you would like to offer to other caregivers.

Day 157 - Gifts of Hope and Faith

Today's meditation was written by Cathy Self, Senior Vice President for the Baptist Healing Trust.

"I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always June."  - L. M. Montgomery

     June is filled with numerous and wondrous gifts. Today is sunny and hot and the wind blows deep green leaves that wave like thousands of hands clapping from the branches of full trees. My neighbor's yard is filled with roses and daylillies - a cacophony of color. Yesterday I shared the most delectable popsicle with friends - made from fresh plums, the color a deep crimson. The children on my street have emerged with skates and bike and kites and bubble making machines. Life is rich and hope shines in the corners again.

Day 156 - 2nd Anniversary

   This week marks the second anniversary of the Journal of Sacred Work. Over the past 730 days, we've been pleased to offer meditations for caregivers to encourage you in the midst of your complex challenges. There have been 575 essays posted across these days and nearly 2500 comments have been recorded.
   I'm particularly grateful to the small cadre of comment-posters who have been kind enough to take the trouble to share their thoughts with others across the country and around the world. The good news is that there have been nearly 80,000 so-called "hits" to the Journal site. The other news is that on any given day there could be as many as 500 or as few as 30 who read the Journal postings. Recently, the number has been closer to the smaller number. This is not encouraging in light of the popularity of blogs around the world.
   The truth is that essays on loving care often have trouble finding an audience. And this leaves the question of whether we should continue this effort and, if so, what form? Choices include: 1) continuing the same, 2) discontinuing, and 3) adding new features that you may be able to suggest to us.
   In any case, I am grateful for the chance to edit and contribute to this effort. On many days, when I'm wondering if I have something (or anything) else to say to you, I try to imagine those of you out there who may find comfort here. And that, by itself, provides enough energy to keep this work going, at least for now.

-Erie Chapman

Day 155 - the Beloved Community

The end is reconciliation; the end is redemption; the end is the creation of the beloved community. - Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

   King spoke of what he called "the beloved community" as far back as December 3, 1956, when the above quote was recorded. He was twenty-seven years old on that day more than fifty years ago. He repeated the language again in 1958, urging the creation of beloved communities throughout the world. And he continued to echo these thoughts in 1966 and right up until the time of his assassination in 1968 at the age of thirty-nine.
   He spoke his language of peace, non-violence and compassion in the face of hatred, anger and resentment. Like so many loving caregivers, he was spit at, shouted at, and ridiculed....

Day 154

During the war, tears had fallen into disuse, like words, like sugar. You couldn't afford to give up tears for anyone.  - Helen Fremont in her book, After Long Silence

   The words Fremont uses refer to the numbness of ghetto-trapped Jews in World War II Poland. The hardships were unimaginable. Emotions were redefined by constant fear and the unrelenting terror of searing brutalities.
   But caregivers can relate to Fremont's words. They know those days when tragedy piles on tragedy and the heart exhausts itself to the point where tears may "fall into disuse" for awhile.
   In large hospices people die everyday. Can caregivers "afford" to be almost perpetually in tears?...