Journal of Sacred Work

Days 150-151 - "Smoke Upon The Wind"

   "Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust." It is the language of funerals. No wonder you may think, as did Dante, that your fate is "no more memorial/ Than foam in water or smoke upon the wind."

   Good news. Your choice to be a caregiver, whether professionally or elsewhere in your world can save your life as well as that of the one who needs you.

   But, what about those sensitive souls that suffer depression over things others toss off? Can you save them? A while back I saw a film about a woman who killed herself because her lover forgot her birthday.  What if she had called you in need of help? Could you have understood her pain well enough to hold back the hand she raised against herself?

   Depression is the illness no one likes to approach. Those who suffer depression are caught in smoke the wind will not blow away.

   Some acquaintance tells you "I'm depressed." How much longer do you want to spend amid their self-hatred? I'm not talking about your patients. I'm talking about your suffering friends or family. Or maybe you.

   There are other choices than pills. Novelist Graham Greene's answer was art. "Sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness...the fear which is inherent in the human situation."

   Yet, the creation of art can also lift some of our finest to altitudes where the air is too thin to breath. "As an experience, madness is terrific," Virginia Woolf wrote, "and in its lava I still find most of the things I write about."

   Through her writing she left great gifts. To capture them for us she engaged her madness until the lava consumed her.

   So many around you are enduring life rather than celebrating it. "The human heart is always hungry," my colleague Minton Sparks mentioned recently during her story-telling  work. 

   Can we feed that hunger with enough Love to stay Death's hand awhile? Ultimately, no one could do that for Woolf. Her suicide note to her husband included these lines:

   "Human beings do not go hand in hand the whole stretch of the way. There is a virgin forest in each; a snowfield where even the print of birds' feet is unknown. Here we go alone."

   Or do we? Can we be companions that illuminate both our life together and the part of our path that is solitary?

   Is the sun entering the clouds or emerging from them? Either way, she dazzles us with her wild beauty.

-Erie Chapman  

Days 147-149 - How Stories Improve Care

   When spoken word artist Minton Sparks (left) launched her first story-telling session as part of our work with one hundred leaders at St. John's Regional Medical Center and later at Northridge Hospital some caregivers were skeptical. What would story-telling have to do with better caregiving, some wondered?

  At the end of the sessions, everyone understood. When leaders share personal stories with each other, barriers among team members come crashing down. In their place, new relationships are formed that strengthen caregiving and reinforce the highest values of loving care.

   "Take ten minutes and write your thoughts on why you became a caregiver. Then share them with the person next to you."

   Next to me sat a burly man whose demeanor projected a cool professionalism. He was a "stranger" to me.

   Ten minutes later, I asked him how he became a caregiver. His response stunned me. "I was a sniper in the army," he told me. "I shot people during skirmishes in Somalia - like you may have seen in the movie 'Black Hawk Down.' One day, I decided I wanted to care for people, not shoot them. I became an army nurse. That is my true calling."

   He is now a nurse at St. John's bringing love to people in need every day. The moment he told his story, he was no longer a "stranger." He was a team member living Love.

   Nearby, the man in charge of resperatory therapy rose to share his story. "A relative called recently to tell me she found a box in the attic with my name on it. Inside were eighteen statues of saints. What did they mean? she asked. My mother sent me a statue every time I was hospitalized with asthma. Eighteen hospitalizations for eighteen attacks. Now I help people who have trouble breathing like I did."

   Many organizations suffer from team dysfuntion. How does the sacred relationship of caregiver-to-caregiver improve? How do caregivers overcome suspicion and occasional resentment towards fellow workers? What causes one team member to step forward to help a colleague?

   Fellow caregivers consistently feel closer to team members who share their stories. Closed energy opens. In fact, if we could truly see into the hearts of others we would always feel more love and understanding.

   Story-telling is one of the beautiful ways St. John's President and CEO Laurie Eberst, Chief Operating Officer Kim Wilson and Senior Director Grace Ibe help advance the work of Radical Loving Care among the thousands of caregivers they lead. It is also one of the many reasons the organization they lead is fast becoming one of the top Healing Hospital Systems in the nation.

-Erie Chapman

Days 145-146 Meet Brandi

 

Today we welcomed a new companion into our family. Meet Brandi, A Labrador Retriever who is almost three. Her family surrendered her to a shelter because they were moving to Japan. As I write to you this twilight eve of a full moon night, I am sharing the easy chair with my new found friend. She wants to be right by my side and is lying across my lap, which makes typing challenging but definitely more enjoyable.

Our quest for a dog began a few months ago and it has been quite a journey. Woody and I could never have imagined how difficult it would be for us to adopt a rescue dog.  We filled out applications, were interviewed, had people come and inspect our home, and visited the local animal shelter weekly. Several times we were elated at the prospect of adopting a sweetie only to discover that another family was the lucky recipient. Crestfallen, we would trudge home saying," ah well, guess it wasn’t meant to be, maybe next time". My friends have leant an ear to our ongoing saga; it has been quite  an adventure!

Now we are all getting acquainted and discovering love in one another. Brandi is intuitive and wants my undivided attention. Even if I am sitting petting her if my mind wanders to the keys of the computer she is on to me. “Don’t give your affection halfheartedly; give me your full presence.” I can see she has much to teach me. Brandi (aka Bambi…sorry, just can’t bring myself to call her that) is camera shy and mellow yellow. She loves to play fetch and she has caught me unawares to slobber me.

When we go through life’s disappointments whether big or small; we are unable to see through to the other side to recognize the blessing that is in All.

“My goal in life is to be as good a person as my dog thinks I am.” ~Anonymous

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~liz Sorensen Wessel

Photos by Woody and Liz

 

 

 

 

Days 140-144 Martha's Heart

   It is among the nicest gifts I've received. It is an image of what one incredible woman can do with a piece of glass - and words of Love.

   "I made it so beams of different colors would shine through...like the light you bring to me and so many others," my younger sister Martha wrote in the accompanying card.

   It sounds self-serving to quote a note in which some says you're great. But, I overcame that worry when I realized this gift is about Martha's heart, not mine. 

   My sister is one of the most giving people I know. Those who read this column regularly know that she worked at the front desk of The Toledo Hospital for more than thirty years. Before that, she took care of four-year-old children in different nursery schools. Today, she still volunteers to help autistic children through the charity Agility Angels.

   Once anyone meets Martha they remember her because of the light she brings into their hearts. I recall the day she was born and she's been brightening my life ever since (except when she beat me at games of "Go Fish.")

   How many of you remember your nursery school teacher? To this day, students of Martha's from thirty and even forty years ago approach her with thanks for brightening their childhood.

   Over more than three decades she helped thousands at the front desk of Toledo's largest hospital so well that she was named Employee of the Year. If patients and visitors could have voted she would have been named Receptionist of the Century. 

   Martha has become one of the city's best known citizens. You can't accompany her around town without people recognizing her and remembering her kindness. The recall her compassion when they needed it most.  

   Martha was not a nursery school teacher. She was a loving mother to her four-year old students. 

   Martha was not a receptionist. She was a caregiver (and still is for our century-old mother.)

   The heart in the photo is made of glass. Martha's heart is made of gold.

-Erie Chapman

Days 138-139 In Loving This Day

Within light there is darkness,
But do not try to understand that darkness.
Within darkness there is light,
But do not look for that light.
Light and darkness are a pair,
Like the foot before and the foot behind in walking.

–Shih’tuo, a verse from the Sandokai

We are always evolving; our lives are always passing and we know our being here is a precious gift. Oft times, we overthink in an attempt to better understand the constellations of our lives.

Yet, I love the simple pleasures that can arise when we let go and step into the present moment.

It is just getting light here. The morning is very quiet, peaceful, and the birds have a lot to say. Two crows suddenly disrupt the calm, high up in a backyard tree, a cacophony of noise. I can’t help wonder what all their fuss is about. Ah, off they go...thank you!

May you and I discover simple pleasures in loving this day.

~liz Sorensen Wessel

Days 136-137 - The Art of Receiving

    My best friend of fifty years and I have a running exchange that has become a joke. When I compliment him on his children, he immediately responds, "Well, what about your children? Aren't they great?" When I congratulate him on his career as a labor lawyer, he routinely says, "Hey, you were the great lawyer and how about your terrific career running hospitals?" When I tell him how lucky he is to have a great family he says, of course, "Your family is fantastic."

   I now call this "The Boomerang Compliment Syndrome." You toss out kudos and they fly back, never appearing to reach their mark. My dear friend, in all of his modesty, is great at giving compliments but has trouble receiving them. Maybe he's afraid he will sound vain.

   Is this true of you? Someone gives you a compliment and you deflect it.  Maybe you do the "Aw-shucks-I-don't-deserve-it" dance. I've done it thousands of times.

   The great novelist John Steinbeck offers us wonderful wisdom: "Receiving . . . requires a fine balance of self-knowledge and kindness," he wrote. "It requires humility and tact and great understanding of relationships. In receiving, you cannot appear, even to yourself, better or stronger or wiser than the giver, although you must be wiser to do it well. It requires self-esteem to receive - not self love but just a pleasant acquaintance and liking for oneself."

   How can you practice this art? Maybe it starts with a simple, "Thank you. I appreciate that." If you jump immediately to say "I don't deserve that" than are you dishonoring the person who gave you the praise?"

   Because it's an art, receiving well is trickier than a few scripted responses. At the core is our need to truly accept the gifts of kindness that come our way. Of course, it doesn't mean we can't share credit. Instead, it touches the heart of humility. It is because I am not better than you that I can receive your compliment as a way of honoring both of us.

   Like all aspects of Radical Loving Care, the art of receiving requires conscious re-thinking. It means changing patterns. 

   Through the odd world of cyberspace, I send compliments to you for dedicating your lives to caregiving. 

-Erie Chapman

Days 133-135 Naming

   My friend Olivia McIvor, who is publishing a powerful new book on compassion, posted the following quote awhile back:

   "Once someone said something nice about me, untrue though I knew it to be. But I treasured it there on my heart's deepest shelf, until one day I surprised even myself by making an honest effort to be that nice thing someone said about me."

   Olivia's post is a fine reminder of your power to influence another with compliments. 

   You had early experiences with being named as one kind of person or another. In your family of origin, were you called "the caring one" and ended up being that person? Maybe you created a story that matched that label and chose your career accordingly. 

   I hate to hear parents brand their children because of the permanent mark it can leave. Decades ago, I heard a mom say about her then-young boys, "Jimmy is my bright light. Jack, on the other hand, is our brat."

   The boys were six and four at the time. Forty years later that mother's branding has come true. Her older child has always been a model of loving behavior. "The brat" has been in and out of prison for years.

   Was this due to early branding? Maybe not. But, I've wondered if being named a brat at such a young age became a self-fulfilling prophecy for Jack.

   In an interview on "CBS Sunday Morning" famed actor Sydney Poitier, now eighty-six, was asked how he would describe himself. "I think I'm a good person," he said.

   Sometimes shamed as a "bad boy" (above with my dad in 1945) it's taken me a long time to finally think of myself as a good person.

   How do you name yourself? Do you say to your heart's mirror that you are a good person? Or, do you remember being named a trouble maker and find you still can't shake the shame you felt then? 

   What kind of compliment can you hand out to a fellow caregiver that might energize their day - and yours?

-Rev. Erie Chapman 

Days 131-132 Abundance

Note:  Special thanks to artist, Marie Benzing, CSJ for her beautiful watercolor, "Abundance". This reflection is compliments of Ministry of the Arts.

"There is within each one of us a potential for goodness beyond our imagining for giving which seeks no reward; for listening without judgment; for loving unconditionally."                               ~Eizabeth Kubler-Ross    The thoughts in this quote beautifully express the way you live.   In this month of May, when we honor the women in our lives, know that you are special in mine. Happy Mother's Day!       Marie Benzing, CSJ beautiful watercolor, "Abundance" is also  in the month of May 2013 Calendar at www.MinistryOfTheArts.org Posted with permission from Minsitry of the Arts Submitted by ~liz Sorensen Wessel

Days 126-130 - Sacred Eyes

   The subject is nothing grand. It is just a salt shaker that fell from my hand, fanning his grains onto an oriental carpet my grandfather bought a century ago.

   The literal mind sees a dropped object that has caused a mess. Your sacred eyes, on the other hand, can see art in such tiny occurrences.

   These moments are nothing and everything. Such images can be the stuff of paintings or poems. They can ignite a song or an idea for a film.

   Isn't it stunning how ordinary things can be experienced as pathways to hidden Beauty? Flowers hold obvious Beauty. How can other everyday objects become "flowers"?

  In the last hours of his life, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, a paint brush lashed to his arthritic hand, struggled once again to paint an anemone. He used his final breaths to say four words, "Today I learned something." 

   Renoir knew that it was the everyday things in life, whether the color in a flower or the light on one of his nudes, that provide the stuff of art. Your life and your work hold so many transactional moments. If you never see Beauty in the ordinary your life may become flooded with the kind of boredom that leads to burnout.

   Your energy goes where your attention flows. If you look through your sacred lens how would your caregiving be enriched? If you see your relationships as sacred rather than profane what would happen in your encounters?

   I sometimes quote a famous poem that some find powerful and others see as pointless. It was penned by poet William Carlos Williams, M.D., a practicing physician who saw with sacred eyes.

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens

   So much depends upon your choice to see with sacred eyes.

 -Erie Chapman 

Photograph: "Fallen Salt Shaker" - copyright erie chapman 2013

Days 124-125 A Warm and Tender Hand

National Nurses Week begins on May 6, Florence Nightingale’s birthday. As this week unfolds I hope you will think about some of the Florence’s you may  know, the unsung heroes that we work alongside with day in and day out.

 One nurse’s story in particular comes to mind. A few years back, a hospice nurse went to visit a frail, elderly woman who was declining quickly. Her family confided to the nurse that although they wanted to honor their mother’s wishes to die at home they were struggling with a dilemma. In their belief system, if she passed away at home they would have to move out afterwards and sell their home.

Soon after, the nurse received a call from the family who was concerned that their mom was actively dying As synchronicity would have it, Helen happened to be near by their home and headed over straight away. Upon arrival she could tell the patient was taking her last breaths. The nurse gently scooped the patient up in her arms and carried her outside to a bench on the porch. There she held the patient while she died peacefully in her arms. Afterwards, she carried the patient to her car and stayed with her until the mortuary arrived. The family was very grateful to this nurse for they were able to honor their mother’s wishes without have to move or sell their home.

 “When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.”- By Henri Nouwen

~liz Sorensen Wessel

Mandala by ~liz