Journal of Sacred Work

Days 119-123 - Transactions & Transcendence

"But isn't light as mysterious as darkness;/ isn't what lifts and reveals/ as profound as that which descends and covers?"  -Clare Bateman "Luminal" (from Coronology)

   In 2006 Vanderbilt physician Roy Elam, M.D. and ethicist Larry Churchill, PhD. asked members of their staff to interview fifty-six physicians about love. Their goal was to determine the role of compassion in medicine. They were worried many doctors would refuse. Instead, each was eager. Some teared up as they described heart-rending encounters with frightened patients. None had ever been asked such questions. 

   Caregivers yearn for the waters of transcendental love. The pressures of technology and corporate medicine militate against such an interplay. "But," as Bateman writes, "isn't light as mysterious as darkness…?"

   Both are profoundly important to the practice of medicine. 

   David Whyte warns that "…the wound and the fury of an individual's creative life are the elemental waters missing from the dehydrated workday." The garden of caregiving can only thrive if leaders throw open the channels that irrigate healing. Otherwise, the souls of practitioners and directors die of thirst. Caregiving becomes a torn photograph. 

   Questions about compassion begin the dialogue. The introduction to leaders and caregivers of artful storytelling, poetry, music therapy and other creative expression deepens this dialogue.

   Every time workday transactions marry love's transcendence healing is consummated.

-Erie Chapman

  Photograph: "Torn Photograph with Bandaids" - Erie Chapman & Nina Webb 

Days 115-118 Falling Through Time [Reading time: 60 Seconds]

   

 [Weekend Note: Liz Wessel has experienced a temporary family health emergency. Her posts will resume next weekend. I know she will be grateful for your prayers]    

   Midday the sky paints the ocean silver. It looks permanent. It is no more enduring than the creatures that swim beneath until their solitary ending. "For the dying of a particular being," Czeslaw Milosz writes, "is its own private business..."

    We are falling through time with our life on the line. Where is life's solace? We can celebrate what we have rather than rue what we do not. 

    Joy is grounded in love. There is no victory without it & love's candor is a hard master. 

    Speaking, receiving & living the full truth demands profound courage. I wish I had that level of valor. Instead, I only ask love to enable passion & to teach wisdom to pass along.

    Behold the truth tellers! They know truth matters more than life's liquid time piece so they speak it & take the consequences. I admire them more than I can say, write, preach or live. They are the heroes. They provoke and embarrass us into life. They are the ones to whom we owe a gratitude we don't even know how to express.

   The same is true of America’s finest caregivers. They live love against constant challenges not to. They meet the needs of others when they are themselves exhausted. They come to help us when we are most desperate for help. That is why their leaders must support them with love.

   It is such a difficult job. It is such a fine way to fall through time. 

-Erie Chapman

Photograph: "Silver Sea 2" by Erie

 

Days 112-114 - Aimless Love

   "This morning as I walked along the lakeshore,/ I fell in love with a wren…" Only great poets like Billy Collins can catch the hem of a mystery he calls "Aimless Love."

   The Journal routinely addresses caregiver love and supports those who offer it each day. Collins celebrates another of love's shapes.

   "In the shadows of an autumn evening/ I fell for a seamstress/ still at her machine in the tailor's window, and later for a bowl of broth,/ steam rising like smoke from a naval battle."

   But, what is so wonderful about love for someone or something who lives unaware of our feelings? "This is the best kind of love," Collins writes, "without recompense, without gifts,/ or unkind words, without suspicion/ or silence on the telephone."

   Although he is right that the wren and the bowl of broth can never betray us this love is not "the best." It cannot provide the passionate energy that vibrates among people who live love in relationship. Thus, it lacks that kind of challenge. 

   But, what a fine thing to embrace "Aimless Love" the way Collins describes it: The love of the chestnut,/ the jazz cap and one hand on the wheel./ No lust, no slam of the door…"

  What a particular peace this offers. 

-Erie Chapman 

Days: 110 -111 You Will Never know

 His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog.

   There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.

   The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.

   "I want to repay you," said the nobleman. "You saved my son's life." "No, I can't accept payment for what I did," the Scottish farmer replied waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel.

   "Is that your son?" the nobleman asked.

   "Yes," the farmer replied proudly.

   "I'll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he'll no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of." And that he did.

   Farmer Fleming's son attended the very best schools and in time, graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin. 

   Years afterward, the same nobleman's son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia.

   What saved his life this time? Penicillin.

  The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill. His son's name?

   Sir Winston Churchill.

 The above urban legend was written by Alice A. Bays and Elizabeth Jones Oakbery and is from the book, "Worship Programs for Juniors”, (1950). 

You never know how a small act of kindness may change a life, change a community or change the world.

 

Contributed by ~liz Sorensen Wessel

Day 109 - Anima & A Picture

   Legendary psychologist Carl Jung coined the word "anima" to signify an individual's true inner self. It is also used in the context of an inner feminine part of the male personality.

   Why is the truest part of ourselves hidden so deep within? How many layers divide our "true" selves from what we show the world?

   As has been true of each of the images shared this week, paintings & photographs suggest what words cannot. 

-Erie Chapman

Note: I made this image thirty-five years ago. Standing in the photograph (far left) I clicked the shutter using a cable release in my right hand.

Days 107-108 - Worth A Thousand Words?

   

   

   If a picture is worth a thousand words then why don't we spend the same amount of time looking at the picture as we do reading a thousand words?

   Photographs are usually viewed in one second and quickly described as "nice," or "interesting." Neeexxxt!

   What happens if you linger longer? How does remaining present to an image help appreciation of caregiving?

-Erie Chapman

Photograph: "Moonrise Atlantic" - by Erie

Days 105-106 - Perfect and Imperfect -

   In 1903 a prominent critic named Henri Rochefort reviewed an artist's one person show in an article titled, "Love for the Ugly." He ridiculed the paintings and reported that several observers experienced "laughing fits" at the efforts of this hometown 'ultra-impressionist" artist.

   Rochefort had no "Love for the Ugly" paintings. He hated the pieces created by this son of local banker named Paul Cézanne,

  Of course, Cézanne's works, including his famous "Apples & Oranges" paintings, are now worth tens of millions. But, in the 19th century many viewed them as simply imperfect efforts at portraying "reality."

   In an always-imperfect and untidy world many seek perfection - or their idea of it. But, even photography cannot deliver that. 

   Today, anyone can aim their cellphone camera at any subject and create an apparently perfect representation. Yet, a single subject has a million ways of being shot. What about pictures of yourself? Which angle appeals to you most?

   It takes a photo artist to find the magic combination of light, shadow, subject placement, angle, depth of field, shutter speed, lens width and the right moment to push the button. It also takes the eye of an artist to edit the "best" among multiple images. It takes even more for a given work to be declared a masterpiece. 

    The first photograph portrays Cezanne's subject: Fruit ready to be eaten. The second portrays a bitten slice. The first subject looks perfect. The second looks imperfect.

    Neither image is worth any money. The question is what either provokes in you: Joy? Irritation? Passion? Indifference? 

   Can you find beauty in your daily challenge of caring for the "imperfect" among us? 

   Value is created not by art appraisers or museum curators. It is created by you.

    This week's Journal presents new images over the next days. Every picture invites you to see familiar things in another way. 

-Erie Chapman

Photographs by Erie

Days 103-104 Heart Seeing

“You are a volume in the divine book
A mirror to the power that created the universe
Whatever you want, ask it of yourself
Whatever you’re looking for can only be found
Inside of you” 
― Rumi

Sometimes I find it difficult to open to the dynamic, ever changing nature of life. Fear creeps in and my heart contracts in on itself.  I appreciate these words of wisdom from Pema and thought I would share them for reflection.   

Pema Chodron on opening your heart:

“The only reason we don’t open our hearts and minds to other people is that they trigger confusion in us that we don’t feel brave enough or sane enough to deal with. To the degree that we look clearly and compassionately at ourselves, we feel confident and fearless about looking into someone else’s eyes. ”

And…

“When you open yourself to the continually changing, impermanent, dynamic nature of your own being and of reality, you increase your capacity to love and care about other people and your capacity to not be afraid. You’re able to keep your eyes open, your heart open, and your mind open. And you notice when you get caught up in prejudice, bias, and aggression. You develop an enthusiasm for no longer watering those negative seeds, from now until the day you die. And, you begin to think of your life as offering endless opportunities to start to do things differently.” ~Pema Chodron

Contributed by Liz Sorensen Wessel

Mandala by ~liz

Days 98-102 -Companions in Solitude

   If we sit with them long enough, certain questions will startle our lives.

   How much of your heart will you commit to whatever days you have left? Which train will you ride into eternity?

   What does Love advise?

   Sages are always available: "...now let me cast my shadow/ against life,/" David Whyte wrote in The House of Belonging, "before the specter haunts me to my grave."

   Love "haunts" with kind angels whose shadows lean backward as well as forward. 

   Some of my dearest companions lie in the distant past. They speak best in solitude. They make sure I am never alone. They accompany me whether they live in this world or have left it. 

   Those who love us want the best for us. Their "haunting" is solace. They want you to live your fullest.

   Why practice half-measures when the best of life lies in the all-out embrace? Are we so fearful of hurt that we settle for faint feelings instead of full love?

   I live in gratitude for loving and being beloved. There are also loving companions who have no awareness of me: The little leaf oak in my backyard, the Bugs Bunny of my childhood, Rachmaninoff whose concertos are lifelong friends. 

   We carry the currency of companionship with us every day.

   David Whyte is a companion. In the middle of the night, I can recall his warm voice reading poetry, can remember his kind endorsement of Radical Loving Care and his sweet praise as, together, we watched my film "Sacred Work" in my office a decade ago.

   Whyte handed me gold. I spend it yet.

   And you are my companion. As I write this to you in solitude I live grateful for you.

-Erie Chapman     

Photograph: Erie "twin tracks" 1974

Days 96-97 Wrapped in Love

Bojagi is an ancient traditional Korean wrapping made by patching together leftover scraps of material and turning them into useful wrappers, as well as artistry. They were used to wrap, store or carry things in everyday life. Most significant  is that Bojagi reflects the "Koreans' traditional love of giving and forgiving, based on an unusually strong sense of warm-hearted community" (Korean Folk Art Museum).

Historians report that Bojagi were first crafted by a small number of unknown women in small villages in the 15^th century during the Joseon dynasty (1395-1910). However, some records indicate Bojagi making dates back as far as The Three Kingdoms period (57 B.C.-668 A.D.). Although these colorful wrapping cloths had a wide variety of practical uses they also had other symbolic uses.

Back then Korean women lived in a strict Confucian society and were confined to their households. They were not allowed to participate in any educational or artistic pursuits. During the day they performed their daily chores of cooking, cleaning and caring for their families but at night the women would gather together to connect, share stories and sew. Scholars believe that sewing and embroidering Bojagi was a creative outlet for women artisans to express their repressed desires. These women wove their secret hopes, cherished dreams and love for their families and friends into the very fabric of the Bojagi.  

This explains the intricate beauty of the Bojagi. A contemporary artist, Youngman Lee reaveals that the word “bo” means wrapping happiness or fortune. What is so unique about these cloths is the loving care that went into making them. The belief was that the careful making of the Bojagi imparted great blessings upon the recipient.

As was the custom of the times, when a woman married she moved in with her husband’s family and often she never saw her parents again. Mother’s would pour their love into making a Bojagi for their daughter and these would be passed on to their daughters.

Until recently the making of Bojagi was not recognized as an art form but was viewed as only utilitarian and this art became almost extinct. Fortunately there are contemporary artists that recognize the value of Bojagi and have revived this uniquely sacred art form.

Personally, I feel very blessed to be a recipient of  love and hospitality from a warm-hearted Korean community.

Contributed by Liz Sorensen Wessel

Photos taken at the Folk Art Museum, Seoul Korea (March 2015)