“Stop Looking at the Monitors”

When we put a patient on hospice in the hospital, families have been used to staring at the monitor to watch their loved one’s heart rate, blood pressure and oxygenation. When staff needs to monitor on and family appears glued yo it, trying to track the sometimes unpredictable rhythms, we gently get invite them to stop watching the monitor and just look at their loved one. Let their bodies guide us as to what they need and how comfortable they are.

We know that there is not much more we can do, but we can treat anxiety, pain and breathing difficulties pretty well for those who are semi or unconscious. In a way we have become our own versions of semi conscious. We have our own kinds of pain; and we are all very trained, if not addicted, to monitoring ourselves with devices and social media statistics.

Today I caught myself, while walking in my favorite park on the most beautiful day of weather we have had in months, when I happened to be off of work surprisingly early- checking my phone to count my steps and see if I had gotten “enough.”

Instead of feeling in my body when I was done walking, I had to use my phone, and whatever arbitrary statistic and goal I had set for myself, to decide when I would be done.

You cannot measure or rate the experience of the wind on your skin and the sun on your face after endless days and nights of fluorescent lighting, cement blocks, and linoleum.

There is no checkbox on my clinical recordkeeping software that can articulate or qualify the Light sparkling on the surface of the flowing creek after months without a good rain.

How do we measure a good day or a bad day? How do we know if we are successful? How do we decide what will matter when we are the ones in the bed, with our final life processes being vigilantly monitored by our loved ones? It won’t be a step monitor, or an iPhone, or likes on a social media scroll that will define who we are as individuals or within the most important relationships in our lives.

Look away from the monitors of life; and look within your heart and soul to measure your quality of Life!

What metrics can we let go of to embrace the sensations of a life fully lived?

Today is Not That Day: Finding Meaning and Hope while working and Living with Death, Tragedy and Aging Daily

Whenever I visit a patient in the hospital or check on staff I simply ask, “What kind of a day is it for you today?”  When you repeatedly have the privilege and the intense challenge of witnessing and accompanying dying people and their loved ones, you become aware of the many stories and perspectives in the room.  There is the obvious question- how comfortable is the dying person moment by moment, and how can we bring more comfort to them wherever possible?  Who else is in the space at the bedside- Spouses, children, caregivers?  Each of these people is in and out of the intense grief of the moment- sometimes clinging to denial that this is really happening even after the last breath is drawn, pleading for revival.  Sometimes a mother is holding her children in her arms, telling them “It will be ok, we will be ok,” over and over again, trying to convince them and herself at the same time as her husband wanes before them.  Sometimes the nurses going in and out of the room over hours of the death vigil; assessing, medicating, swabbing mouths to bring moisture; adjusting pillows and blankets; checking on families; bringing water, encouraging them to take breaks and to eat, waiting for signs of whatever steps are next, listening to each person in the room tell their memories or fight over senseless things, laugh about old stories, wail in breathless agony, run down the hall and vomit before they get to the bathroom, stand as far in the corner as possible and talk to no one- sees and hears it all, and wonders how many more times he or she can do this.  How many more rooms like that will they have to stand in?  How many more boxes of cheap hospital issued sandpaper tissues will they hand to families, wishing they could offer So Much More? 

People in healthcare who are around death, aging, vulnerability, and all the parts of human life our Western culture, avoids, medicates, distracts from, puts make up and dye’s on, desperately tries to cover and avoid in every way possible suffer a loss of reality.  They suffer a certain isolation from others who do not see death and suffering every day all day. They suffer with the questions of their loved ones and their own mortality- the fragility of life itself.  Some of them spend their lives trying to fight death, prolong life, “fix” bodies, and extend or add to what many are taught think is most important and valuable- youth, beauty, mobility, ability to acquire and enjoy material goods.  Yet most of the people who are in the bed, or anticipating being in the last bed in which they will ever lay, are missing the simple things like- one more night at home on the couch watching a movie with their loved ones; being out in their gardens; going fishing; being able to run their own errands; use the bathroom on their own; eat and drink what they want when they want; move their bodies freely and without pain or additional equipment or the help of others. 

Those who live with chronic disease know these desires long before their death beds.  They look at life very differently.  For some, limitations become invitations to find joy in other ways.  For others, they become part of a long slow death, hastened and poisoned by anger and fear. Spirits can live when bodies are dying; and spirits can die when bodies are still living. 

For people who see the full range of this emotional, physical and spiritual roller coaster daily, what happens?  How are they different? How can others who would like to believe it is all unlikely, unnatural, unreal, avoidable, only for others, or just never going to happen to them learn from those suffering their worst nightmares and those working with them daily?

We can each spend our time fearing and avoiding that which frightens us about aging and death, or we can love into it by being present with each other’s challenges and struggles, just as much as we are present for those rare days we wish could go on forever, that we remember (or have remembered for us) in the days which become our last.  Even simply witnessing someone else just as they are, and holding a space for all that came before that person sitting in front of you, who you cannot seem to reach in a recognizable way, honors them.  Expression happens in ways we cannot see.  Renewing how we measure value in life is important.  That unresponsive person who you may watch and deeply fear becoming- representing what society tells us is waste and humiliation, and burdensome, just may become a spiritual teacher to you the moment you begin to wonder about your own mortality and quality of life.  Even in a state we might consider distant and unreachable, that person has a part to play.  Sometimes in seeing what we do not wish to see- we honor the person living it, and we sweeten all that is here and now and available. 

There is much that will come to you that you will wish to stop, avoid, fix, skip over, or erase.  But until it is your time to experience such things, remember that today is not that day.  Find that which is still possible, joyful, comforting, connecting, life-giving and do as much of it as you can.  It is not that day until it is… Gratitude and awareness are life-giving in a society which operates so often out of a sense of fear and scarcity.  Listen to those who have lived through the unimaginable.  Look with wonder at the fungus growing out of dead trees and animals, which then becomes food and medicine for other beings.  There is value and life even in suffering and death.  Spend time with people and in places that remind you that you are alive!  Learn from people in cultures for whom aging is an honor, and the elderly are as loved and fawned over as children, even as some of them become more and more like children in time. 

Perhaps the people you watch and wonder about in emergencies or at their own deathbeds are wishing to have just one more day – like the one you could be having right now. You running yourself ragged on the hamster wheel of anxiety, and worrying over that which you cannot predict, control, or even understand fully, gives neither you nor them more time or quality of life; it only robs you and the world of the energy of joy and comfort.  So live in the moment you are in, and try to trust that when you find yourself in one of those times and places in life you wish to avoid, that you will have what you need when you need it, even if it doesn’t look like what you expect.  Keep watch over all that is, letting it balance itself in your life in the strange and unpredictable timing that we do not really get to understand on this side of things.  Love into what is, and then it will be blessed in ways unimaginable. 

What kind of day is it for you today?

Living With Suffering

“Suffering only hurts because you fear it.
Suffering only hurts because you complain about it.
It pursues you only because you flee from it.
You must not flee,
You must not complain,
You must not fear.

You must love.
Because you know quite well,
Deep within you, that there is
A single magic,
A single power,
A single salvation,
And a single happiness
And that is called loving.

Well then, love your suffering.
Do not resist it,
Do not flee from it.

Taste how sweet it is in its essence,
Give yourself to it,
Do not meet it with aversion.

It is only aversion that hurts,
Nothing else.”

Recently I came across this quote by Hermann Karl Hesse 2 July 1877 – 9 August 1962) who was a German-Swiss poet, novelist, and painter. His best-known works include DemianSteppenwolfSiddhartha, and The Glass Bead Game, each of which explores an individual’s search for authenticity, self-knowledge and spirituality. In 1946, he received the Nobel Prize in Literature”. (Thank you Wipipedia, I only knew about Siddhartha!)

I definitely think we cause more suffering by trying to prevent it, when it is an inevitable part of human life, perhaps all earthly life suffers.  It appears that way in time.  But if suffering if a natural part of life then it must be of God… It is upsetting to think of God causing and/or even allowing the suffering as some believe God does; but it is VERY important to know that God IS IN IT WITH US!  There are so many ways to know God while we are in this life.  For me- God made them all holy and sacred by coming to us in a human body- Jesus, who I believe to have been vulnerable to the full spectrum of gifts and challenges we humans are, and in a very brutal time in history.  But if we reframe suffering as a unique and holy way of knowing God, like none other, then it elevates the experiences we desperately hope to avoid; and can potentially turn us on ourselves when the experiences linked to suffering in fact appear unavoidable after all. 

Dr. Viktor Frankl teaches us that when we can find meaning in anything in life it will reduce the suffering, and keep our spirits nourished and vital.  And this coming from a Holocaust survivor, perhaps one of human life’s most credible voices on surviving and living with suffering.

Our Buddhist brothers and sisters, invite us to lean into those tender, painful places, unafraid that we will fall through into an unrecoverable oblivion; but, rather, gently holding the possibility that we will fall away and free, untethered by the fear and judgment that would threaten to tie us endlessly and inextricably to suffering.  I believe that for some of us, it is our judgment that something is terribly wrong with us which increases suffering; the story of self-imposed punishment that can arise when suffering comes to us.  That belief that we did something to bring it upon ourselves isn’t just as old as Biblical times, it is ever present in these times as well.  Judgment and fear have followed us in our timeline. But so has the unfailing, loving Presence of God/Spirit/Something More.

This week I have talked with several people who know they are dying, likely within the next few months or by the end of the year perhaps.  They still have 100% of their minds intact.  They fluctuate in and out of wanting everything settled that seems to matter materially and relationally with those will remain on this side of life, and with pouring more and more attention into their relationship with ALL THAT IS, with God as they know God.  These people have varying backgrounds, spiritually speaking; but they share a similar “workplace”, i.e., Earth from a human body.  They are differently resourced by their loved ones and religious traditions, but they alone in their depths will be meeting God in the leaving of this life. 

Interestingly, though much suffering is brought to us through our physical body- that is precisely what we will leave behind.  Perhaps there is a sort of “kicking out of the nest” that happens.  Although with all its problems, vulnerabilities and limitations, many of us would not associate the body with a nest of safety and nourishing we see baby birds receiving.  But our bodies are a way through which we receive the heights of joy and pleasure, and a way we can be thrust into an isolating tunnel of pain at times. 

The gift may be that joy and suffering of the deepest most permanent kind aren’t in the parts of us which always had an expiration/use by date- our physical selves.  The best of us was never limited to this  timeline, only here on this Earthly assignment temporarily . So it is perhaps in times when we are being pushed out of the familiar physical life, while we are on Earth still, that we meet more and more often, and more and more deeply with the Self that knows, recognizes and remembers Godself- ever present, on all sides of life equally. 

Suffering may have its own meaning and purpose- to direct or invite us to other, less conscious and limited layers of ourselves.  What may seem like an escape into magical thinking that can be associated with highly religious and spiritual practitioners, could actually result in a clarity, saliency and expansion of the life that exists throughout time and space joining all that is, while still ALSO existing in the apparent confines of this body.

We must also address the nonphysical- emotional and existential- suffering we face as humans; for much of which there are no effective medications or techniques, apart from love and space holding.  The suffering of emotion, that comes from loss, particularly that of a loved one, also has a way of pushing us into the beyond, from this front row seat of the three-dimensional earthly life.  If we are to survive, and even thrive in a life that has been stripped of its learned way of being in the world, connected with another heart that is intact, including all its parts, which come from of our loved ones, we must explore the idea that we are still made to live and love with them- but differently

In a recent memorial service over which I presided we began by acknowledging that sharing the intimate memories and stories of our dead loved one, is an act, both communal and personal, of learning to love that person differently.  Their death may feel like a call to our own; as some people share so much of our hearts that is seems impossible that they should beat without that person’s heart continuing to beat alongside it.  But, there again, the best parts of us are not limited to the beating of a human heart or the emotional range of life on earth.  We are all living equally in this earthly realm, and held and infused by the life God gave us of everlasting, unlimited union.  This Divine Union exists on all planes of being.  Very importantly, this union exists simultaneously across aspects of life, embodied and spiritual- connecting us always with Love; the love of God, as well as those with whom we have shared love in this Earthly life.

Pain is never without purpose or end.  We can do only what we can to prevent and treat it.  We can be aware of that which we may be bringing on or increasing in our lives through neglect to our inner or outer physical selves. 

Are we isolating- centering the emotional pain within, where it can concentrate and systemically poison us with unremitting grief?  Can we open to expressing ourselves through the creative process, or to others and God in prayer and sharing, releasing some of the crushing pressure of carrying it alone and  unspoken? 

Are we caring for our physical bodies the best we are able- with nourishing foods, safe enjoyable movement, deep breaths, as much sleep as we are able to get and need, activities that bring us joy and connection, and moments of pleasure and laughter?

The fact is- there are very few things we can do to prevent pain and suffering from being a part of our lives.  So when we encounter a circumstance of choice over which we actually do have some control- discern its value and implications, and choose well. 

Live then, knowing that you did your part, and that whatever pain and suffering are in your life unavoidably so- when the initial shock and reflexive desire to flee, or shut down, or be irretrievable angry and hurt may be able to loosen their hold on you, you may find another part of yourself you never knew was there.  You may find another piece of the mystery of the God who has always been there in you, with you, and waiting for you wherever life and death eventually lead you next.  And when you travel to those places and spaces, whether while still in this body or transitioning to the other side of earthly life, perhaps you will have a knowing that you are accompanied by all those who have also found this to be true- in Spirit.  And in living with your suffering, moving into a reliance and deeper connection with Something More than the pain, you are also connecting with the loving Presence of God and the fellowship of those who live now only in Spirit.

And just when I worry about sounding too saccharin, I remember the ways I have learned this kind of limitless connectedness is possible- through my own healing through trauma this last couple of years; through loved ones; and years of privileged personal story sharing in my work with massage clients and as a healthcare chaplain.  In addition to Viktor Frankl’s testimony of the entire field of logotherapy, we must always include my favorite “chaplain” quote by Helen Keller-

“Although the world is full of suffering, It is also full of the Overcoming of it.”

Leading from the Liminal: A Snapshot from One Healthcare Chaplain During a Pandemic

Liminal used to be one of my favorite spiritual terms: betwixt and between. Neither here nor there… Occupying a space on either side of a boundary. Inhabiting transition. But starting a healthcare chaplaincy residency in the middle of the two biggest deadly surges of a global pandemic is so not the romantic, hopeful, juicy spiritual training ground one imagines when they assign the philosophical term liminal to a very visceral and traumatic, drawn out, violent circumstance. I want to know the place inside me where I can step back and pan out beyond the limitation of time and space and know with certainty that there is value and life-giving among all this life-sucking and death. I believe in that space even when it feels distant or absent, or I would not get up and drive into work every day.

I recite this prayer and invite you to say it, bolstered by the faith of survivors of the Holocaust:

“I believe in the sun even when it is not shining.

I believe in love even when I cannot feel it.

I believe in God even when he is silent.”

“Chaplaining” during a global pandemic is a whole new kind of leading from the liminal.  The leading aspect of chaplaincy comes into play when one considers moving and living and working based on a collective soul understanding that God may not be working in the ways we want, expect, or have seen before; but that God is present and active in, through, and with us!

I re-entered the field of healthcare chaplaincy, no longer an intern, but a resident in the Fall of 2020, between the two great surges of hospitalizations, deaths, and staff shortages due to COVID.  We came into a line of clinicians who had never left the battlefield, in order to claim the “P” in PTSD.  Permanent rather than Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome makes more sense.  There are many studies and treatments for living with Post traumatic stress syndrome, but what can be an intervention for ongoing, intense, timeless feeling, life threatening stress and mass casualty in often undignified and unaccompanied circumstances?

Preparing for my own pandemic deployment and coming late to the game, after 8 months of solitude, not working, self-care, and nearly constant long distance contact with my friends and family, I could intuitively feel and anticipate the warranted exhaustion, anger, fear, and frustration.  But imagining it, does not compare to seeing and feeling the intense and intimate suffering of hoards of people who are faced with a reality no one wishes to ever accept; but everyone trying to “fix, heal, and/or cure” the bodies, minds, and spirits of a time such as this must face. 

No one enters civilian healthcare expecting to see mass casualty.  That is relegated to war-time medics.  There are emergency procedures and protocols for things like transportation or natural disaster accidents involving more than 10-15 people at a time.  But I work with nurses who had only seen 2 deaths in the first two years of their hospital careers, who had begun facing two a day, every day during the first and hardest wave of COVID.  Thousands and thousands of people died alone in empty, impersonal, fluorescent lit, sterile environments.  Many units or make-shift facilities have no windows or glass on the doors, and were in corridors surrounded by PPE and life-saving equipment that was only used for emergency circumstances, limiting patient/staff contact as much as possible, and breaking hearts and spirits.  Other units were mobile, and make-shift in parking lots and public spaces, where cots could lined up- yes, like war times. Many people either had no access or were not alert enough to use technology to call or face time with their loved ones.  If they were lucky a nurse, doctor, or respiratory therapist, maybe the occasional chaplain would happen to be in the room to hold the person’s hand through gloves, gowns, masks, and every other kind of physical barrier to intimacy.

While I wrote in a previous blog about my experience of what happens spiritually when a person is transitioned beyond their body, a piece which gives me great peace and builds the foundation of my faith in these times, I now need a piece (and a peace) for the people rushing around outside the empty rooms or crowded wards of rows of beds.  The trauma, cognitive dissonance and moral injury for: being assigned to terminally extubate people. Perform a violent and dangerous full code when the heart of a COVID positive patient stops and there is no chance for recovery but the family says, “Do Everything!” To choose who should get assistance of a ventilator. To be at one bedside feet away from the next person who dies and have just missed holding their hand.  To see body bag after body bag wheeled off a unit and put into a refrigerated truck.  To work in a robust, privileged suburb accustomed to manicured lawns and posh entertainment, which now houses a tent in its hospital parking lot to increase bed space for the sick and dying.  And my friends, that is not even the detailed description of the patients’ experiences…

People in healthcare join to fight and cure illness, to accompany vulnerability, and stretch limits.  No one joining healthcare could have imagined or trained appropriately for a time such as this. Right now I am curating what I call a Purple Binder full of prayers, blessings, centering techniques and aids, and self-care prompts, in order to offer momentary support and solace to healthcare workers when a chaplain can not be physically present with them.  If people have the chance to sit down and use the resources and materials, that alone will be a change from what many experienced before- so over-worked and understaffed they stopped drinking water on shifts because they couldn’t even break to use the bathroom or eat a full meal on twelve hour shifts. 

As a sensitive, intuitive person arriving on scene from isolation and prayer I have struggled deeply with my own meaning-making and my own ability to weather the presence of these heroes who were running on fumes when I arrived and are now digging deep to re-form the front lines against what we are now seeing as the same threat from Spring 2020.  Utter shock, amazement, honor and gratitude is the only response I have emotionally.  Professionally, I keep showing up and asking them each shift how it is for them that day; and saying “thank you”.  Some talk, some don’t. But they are all showing up. 

In chaplaincy we call one of our primary interventions “providing a non-anxious presence.”  Seriously?! Is any human fully awake to the crisis we continue to plow through after these first 9 months truly expected to achieve a state of non-anxiousness?!  I will say, buffered by what I call the Holy Spirit, and people’s supportive prayers, there are moments of it; but as a colleague who braved COVID rooms with her own body and presence suggests: Perhaps it is more appropriate to aim for being “a less anxious presence.”  I love it!  So much more realistic, and kind to ourselves. 

So right now, healthcare chaplaincy for me looks like being a less anxious presence; praying with people wherever they are, and in places they cannot be, like the rooms of all the dying; and holding space for celebrations of any success or joyful moment.  I also recommend focusing on the basic blessings and wonderment of nature- the only safe place to live and move and have our being right now.

I leave you with what is known as the Bathroom Blessing in Judaism, the Asher Yatzar which blesses the wonderous and complex workings of the Body, and the One God who created and can heal it all, which is traditionally prayed after toileting, as a daily reminder of God’s presence and action in our lives:

“Blessed is God who has formed the human body in wisdom

and created many orifices and cavities.

It is obvious and known before You

that if one of them were to be opened or closed incorrectly,

it would be impossible to survive and stand before You at all.

Blessed is God, who heals all flesh and does wonders.”

Holding Space

We have been in the midst of the storms of a pandemic, as well as economic and social crises now for many months; in some ways, for some of our siblings, many centuries.  In this time of deep turmoil, struggle, fear, anger, separation, emoting, efforting, AND, gathering, listening, knowing where we are is not quite working, resisting change yet intending to reconstruct and grow forward together— I have an invitation for us all.  In chaplaincy and spiritual direction we call it Holding Space.

I wanted to fill the space of pain and uncertainty we each continue to uncover and press through in our own ways with research, helpful tips, words of instruction and affirmation, narratives of past resilience.  But in that desire to fix, to be other than where we are, I realized I was forgetting the best part of chaplaincy- Holding Space.  In my resources link, the work of Fr. Richard Rohr is recommended.  He is part of the Center for Action and Contemplation in New Mexico.  The key here is that in order to act, we must be balanced with contemplation.  On this path we seek to respond rather than react.  Part of contemplation is being in sacred space with the Holy in our experience of Divinity, our Selves, and the Divine in other people with whom we share this world.  When we are in contemplation there is no beginning or end, just a stepping into an ongoing flow of the Holy Spirit- the creative, life-giving, transformative energy of God moving in and around us at all times.  We are consenting and intending to tap into its resources and abilities- which are limitless.

Siblings, I mean for this leaning in to the Spirit within and around us to give us ease, comfort, and boundaryless steps to healing what hurts.  In an effort to minister to my own monkey mind and anxious heart, I summed it up like this- “Remember, you do not have to try to fill the space, only hold it open.”  Pay attention here to the words hold– indicating strength and stillness; and open calling to mind a sense of expansiveness.

The description for how Holding Space might appear visually:  There are two human figures, anonymous and genderless, standing facing one another.  The are just inside the borders of a vertical column of light (think Star Trek Transporter 😊).  There is a circle on the ground they stand on, the boundary and threshold marking that space from the surroundings which are full of grey, slashes and splinters of messiness, objects, and possibly scenes of trauma spinning all around.  One figure stands with their arms down at their sides raised about 45 degrees, appearing to literally hold open the edge of a physical space that needs to exist for the vertical column of light to flow- and contain within it the two figures.  It is as though the person doing the holding open is separating the winds of a storm.

If we interpret that image a little further, you might know that in theological studies vertical has been associated with human connection to the divine; while horizontal, with things of the earth and the material world.  In the reality of God that I know, there is no space in which God is not.  But sometimes we really need someone else to stand in our space with us and remind us in the flesh of that possibility. Storms come in forms specific to each individual and change over time.  Holding Space does not stop the storms from spinning around us, it connects us with the Love of God, where we are seen, known deeply, and loved just as we are.  It creates a place of healing, wholeness, and nurturing where we can cultivate whatever we each need to move on, or be transformed into, for the work only we can do.

Holding the space for ourselves and each other is a powerful way to stand in the mysterious stillness of eye of the hurricane, while the storms of fear and pain thrash and rage around us.  Just show up, listen, allow yourself to feel all the emotions, to be uncomfortable with another person.  But know that when you stand in that intention with another, you are plugged in to the limitless love and creativity of God, always moving towards Life, Love, and Wholeness.  You do not have to know what is next, what to do, or how to do it.  God does.  Just hold the space open for the possibility of the presence of God- no matter what.

A companion piece to this reflection is a prayer whose author is unknown to me, but which I have found helpful for many years.  Enjoy:

Into the Eye of God

For your prayer

your journey into God,

may you be given a small storm,

a little hurricane

named after you,

persistent enough

to awaken you to new depths,

strong enough

to shake you to the roots,

majestic enough

to remind you of your origin:

Made of the earth,

yet steeped in eternity.

Frail human dust

yet soaked with infinity.

~

You begin your storm

under the Eye of God.

A watchful, caring eye

gazes in your direction

as you wrestle

with the life force within.

~

In the midst of these holy winds,

in the midst of this divine wrestling,

your storm journey,

like all hurricanes,

leads you into the eye of God,

where all is calm and quiet.

~

A stillness beyond imagining!

Into the Eye of God

after the storm

into the silent, beautiful darkness.

Into the

Eye of God.

Once again, thank you to Astronomy Picture of the Day and photographer Thorleif Rodland for this beautiful image of a Sun Pillar.

Safety and Comfort

“Beloved Source of Security: I wish for the total freedom from all forms of destructive fear.  In its place, lead me into the freedom of surrender.  You hold me while I grow, and in this confidence I release anxieties about my life- its survival and success- and trust you with my unfolding story.  Amen”

Author Peter Traben Haas Centering Prayers: A One-Year Daily Companion for Going Deeper into the Love of God featured as an opening or closing quote for Centering Prayer in the Center Prayer App developed Contemplative Outreach.

The question I am asking myself and those with whom I am conversing in this time are

            “In your circumstances, in this moment: what do you need to feel safe?”

            “In your circumstances, in this moment: what would feel most            comfortable for you?”

Safety and Comfort.  Those are the qualities I am choosing to prioritize and support right now.

That is going to appear differently for each person, each day.  We never really knew that we were always, already living this way; but now moment to moment, and day to day living is at the front of our national and global consciousness and “new abnormal”.

Meditation teaches us to stay gently and attentively with each moment as it ebbs and flows in our minds, emotions, and bodies. It builds a familiarity with the range of our inner experiences as we live and react to life.  I am feeling grateful for having an inner solitary practice on the roller coaster of life, which is allowing me to live in peace and compassion with myself and others right now.  I am feeling especially grateful for my bubble of privilege, and that of those close to me.  I am mindful of the other sides of peace and privilege.

Generosity and support are neck and neck with tragedy and trial.  It is both.  It is the complicated miracle of human incarnation and community.

Prayer stories from the Bible, such as the prayer Jesus taught His disciples, reminds us to ask for “our daily bread” (Gospel of Matthew 6:9-13).  When the Israelites were living in exile in the desert, the Lord sent manna from Heaven to feed them every day anew, just enough, day by day for exactly what they needed (Exodus 16:4). One of my favorite meditations shared earlier by Buddhist teacher Tara Brach, called opening and calming calls us to be mindful of this breath… now this breath… now this… now.

What do you need to feel safe and comfortable in your personal circumstances on this particular day? 

Who or what is supporting your senses of safety and comfort? 

Who or what are you having more/less time for that you are particularly grateful for; or missing the most right now? 

How can you express that gratitude or desire in a loving, compassionate, creative way?

What image or movement best depicts release from fear and anxiety, and resting in the comfort of the Holy?

Thank you and link to the beautiful featured photo!

Waves and Light

They say that COVID-19 may come in waves: waves across countries, counties, homes, and upcoming seasons.  This first national wave, we were much less prepared than we would like to be for future waves.  When I consider other challenges in life which come in waves, I think of physical pain; emotional pain and grief; levels of intimacy in relationships; attention span; hunger and thirst, moods.  The embodied human experience is one full of waves, cycles, seasons- all transitions.  Many of them we come to recognize in ourselves, if not in others.  We see aging, sickness and healing, relationships beginning and ending, plants and weather changing with the seasons, women’s bodies cycling with the phases of the moon, the stages of sleep, arousal, hormonal potency, and even spiritual maturation.  Some of these we have measurements or standards with which we can compare ourselves individually, as couples, families, communities or nations.  However, this new experience in which we all find ourselves has no point of reference.  It is alarming, disarming, and unsettling.  Our ways of being, our known’s, our patterns, our identities are all being rewritten as we go.

Change is not optional; it is certain.  In reading William Bridges book Transitions and considering the process of life review many of us do in times of crisis and loss, I am acutely aware of how averse, and frankly unaccustomed, we are to the work of transition, the space between ending and beginning- what anthropologists who study ritual call liminal space.  We are no longer at the beginning; we do not know what is next; and the end is not on a discernible timeline.  Often, if we have seen others come out the other side of some kind of challenge or struggle, we place value on that struggle.   We determine it worthy of our time, blood, sweat and tears.  If we can assign meaning, and particularly a trajectory, to an experience, we can mark where we are on the journey.

This whole first wave of wondering if America will be affected like other countries, realizing that it is, and not knowing what our next steps will be or how long they will take is the depth of uncertainty.  It is very uncomfortable to want to simply return to what we knew before, and wonder if that reality resembles what will be “when this thing is all over.”  We tend to cling to the known and familiar, and judge harshly the different and unseen.

Certainly human history has seen pandemics, plagues, and widespread mass destruction.  One of today’s differences is how far we thought we have come, how safe and prepared we thought we were.  This is not a point of criticism; but rather a gateway for compassion, the emotional wave involving recognition, the full gamut of feelings, and the recovery which will include reflecting on what we have learned and what can happen differently in the future.  This current pandemic is a catalyst in the heart of all people, individually and collectively, who are now threatened indiscriminately along with the financial, healthcare, and worship systems that have shaped our lives.  What has meaning and how we choose those ways of being and doing in the world are shifting.

Yes, let’s name it- we are having global growing pains and identity crises, simultaneous with widespread fear and loss.  AND…For every shocked exhausted healthcare worker and grieving family member, there are stories of generosity, gratitude, and grace.   Death is upon us; but not without the ineffable resilience of the resurrection.  This Holy Week is strangely coinciding with one of America’s predicted most deadly weeks.  Of all the things we are doing differently from the past, let us turn in particular to the heroes and heroines of the world’s sacred texts who faced unparalleled challenges and still relied on the resources, grace, timing, healing, and omnipresence of the Divine.  Let us be gentle with ourselves as we each figure out how to do what is best for us.  We will make mistakes and suffer tremendous loss; but we will do it in the company of friends, family, and strangers who are all One in the Global Community.  Let us know in our souls, the way we still expect to see the sun in the morning each night, that morning is coming.  And the next wave of night that washes over you, small or crushing, remember that you have seen what happens next.  This time morning might appear differently, or at a new hour; but one thing is certain- there will be Light.

(Thank you to ipopba/Getty Images for the beautiful Feature Image in this Post)

Spiritual Accompaniment in Fear and Death

Yesterday I was sent an idea and request for people at home to provide a spiritual presence to those who are dying without the company of loved ones.  The rows of beds, people on ventilators, coffins and graves which are amassing has become overwhelming and impossible to process.  Additionally, contemplating the feelings of fear, anger, exhaustion and defeat that our brave medical personnel are facing make me think of the only reason I have the gall to press on with a future life as a healthcare chaplain- the ineffable and ubiquitous presence of God- no matter what.

I have had the honor of being at the bedside for more deaths than the average person in my previous work as a hospital and hospice chaplain.  Normally, I would not share so openly about what I will; but as these times are most certainly extraordinary, it feels appropriate.  When someone is in the last moments of life in their bodies the room is saturated with a dense, not suffocating, but rather enfolding presence of warmth and what I would call liquid light and calm- sheltering love.  There is at least one presence, if not several distinguishable “spirits” in the space around the body.  I see these things not with my eyes, but as remembering a dream while awake.  There is strong emotional quality to the lights.  Sometimes there may be colors to them like the dazzling white described in the transfiguration of Christ, or a soft gold or liquid blue, like a picture of a constellation against the night sky, where the featured stars of the constellation are the loved ones or guardians of the person transitioning.  Then those lights blend with the airy, liquid light of the soul leaving the body.  It is the sensation of vapor- effervescent liquid light dissipating up out of the body, sometimes to different parts of the room, briefly lingering over observers’ bodies; and sometimes it just swirls in with the welcoming spirits, and they all lift away, like steam blown from over the top of a boiling pot.  The only response I have ever had is deep slow breaths, and the swelling of tears of pure Joy and release.  The experience is both intensely dense, and liberatingly expansive and connective.  Words can only begin to capture the process.

I have to concede that all the deaths for which I have been present were relatively peaceful, and expected; without trauma.  However, I have no reason to believe that the process of soul joining all that is, ushered by spirit or spirits of love and light would be somehow absent from those lives lost suddenly, by torture, suicide, accident, or force.  I believe that even if circumstances in which dying occurs are not filled with love, that dying to what we know and live here is.  This is very easy for me to say from my incredibly privileged life and current circumstances.  But I believe what I shared above applies to all spirits moving on to what is next.  I believe in what I have palpably sensed in my heart and body.

When I consider the fear of being lined up in a hall or room crowded with other people suffering and possibly dying of breathlessness and fear, I shut down to that belief and knowledge.  It is a real and understandable reaction to reflexively go into terror and paralysis, leading to daily fear and paranoia.  I also think about the people crowded together sharing an incomparable experience, each having their own encounter with whatever way the Holy settles into their experience.  I do not try to know what that looks like, such things are private and ineffable.  But I am certain they are real.  I also believe that those people in the beds, and those working to treat, comfort and save them are a community of their own- a sacred people bonded by an experience no one else could ever fully understand.

Karl Barth once preached a sermon called “The Criminals With Him” on Good Friday 1957 and printed in his book Deliverance to the Captives.   In this sermon to and for the imprisoned he speaks of the first true Christian community being comprised of those men suffering and dying on either side of Jesus on the Cross.  Yes, Mary, Jesus’ mother and Mary the Magdalene were present, along with several other people; but they were not present in the depth and degree of intense sharing that the other two men were.  In the way that the reasons for the torturous, undignified deaths of these men were different; vastly varying circumstances lead them to this final point; that their inner meaning-making of these last moments was completely unique; and fear or comfort in what would come next was all their own, they hung together in a time and space outside of the experience of those gathered around them.  Perhaps those rows of people in beds, conscious or medically sedated, are accompanying each other in a way even their closest loved ones never could.   The nearness of the women and men who loved Jesus was not the same kind of nearness of those breathing their last together in agony.  God was in Jesus and with those men who were criminals.  It is my experience that God is with us all, in every moment we live embodied, and AS what happens next.

We do not have to understand how this works, only that it does.  We cannot understand the reconciling of all differences, all that would threaten to make us feel separate from the love of God, all that might haunt us unto our own bodily deaths.  We have no capacity to understand and integrate these things.  We do have the capacity to share the breath and presence of God, and in that way to live accompanied, and die enfolded in the nearness of all that is.  If you are feeling imprisoned in your home, at your job, by mental illness, grief, or fear and uncertainty- know that feeling that way, is not mutually exclusive of your being held in God’s mercy; even if that gentle holding is not recognizable to you now.  Once the essence of our “soul vapor” mingles with the particles of everything we ever needed to feel loved and known, separation and suffering will be transmuted in ways that hold sacred space and healing for all that we would escape if we were choosing our circumstances.

In your prayers, movements, meditations, conversations, and the freedom of your individual breathing in and out, know in your heart a loving presence especially for you.  Know also a presence unlimited by time, space, fear, guilt, or any boundary we here can conceive of, that shows itself to everyone in a meaningful and personal way; always re-membering that soul, over and over, from one moment to the next, into the great family of all things- seen and unseen.

 

Breathing Lessons from Brother Omid

Dear Friends,

Lately in busy-ness and stress I needed a spiritual director to remind me to just get on the cushion and sit.  Just show up knowing that God is always, already waiting to sit and breathe with you.  Let yourself be breathed.  No effort, no generating of solutions and answers, no expectations other than to get to the next breath.

Please read this article on Breathing for life, and as prayer and communion with God by Omid Safi:

https://onbeing.org/blog/learning-how-to-breathe-again/

Today as I struggle with aggravated asthma symptoms, I am aware that many people struggle to breathe daily, not only due to pollutants in their air, but also to tension, tightness, restlessness and fear.  The transformational power of breath to re-center and ground us can be our greatest gift; but sometimes sitting in the center of all we have worked so hard to distract ourselves from can feel like a punishment….Until we try it.

The fear of getting lost and consumed by pain, worry, and discomfort can keep us from the sweet release of surrender to the source of comfort and solutions.  Omid speaks of asking God not only how to pray, as Jesus modeled for us, but also, how to breathe.  Please know that a commitment to conscious breathing can open a world of healing, expansiveness, and connection to the loving and creative force always around you and always within.  That Spirit of God moving in and through our bodies will will guide and direct our next breath and next steps.

If you are living with trauma, it is most advisable to seek a trained professional therapist or spiritual director to breathe with you and process that which is uncovered. Even if your trauma was not on a life-threatening scale, having a professional caregiver with you can expand the efficacy of your mindfulness and spiritual practice by working with you to unburden some of the weights which press in on your heart quite literally.

May the nearness of God be at the center of your heart, mind, and choices as you move through relationships and the world around you.

 

 

One Light in the Darkness

I woke up in the middle of the night in my very dark bedroom with a sense of disorientation from a strange dream.  For a moment I could not get a sense of which direction my bed was facing, where the door was, or even where the lamp on my night table stood.  I just sat there and searched the darkness for one single glimpse of light- from under the door, from around the window shades, from my alarm clock.  I said to myself, “I only need to find the source of one light I can discern and it will lead me to all the rest.”

This late night epiphany seemed profound in the liminal space of dreaming and waking.  It reminds me of the quote by St. Francis of Assisi,

“All the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light of one candle.”

For those of us heading into the Daylight Savings time change where many  will go to work in the morning and come home in the evening, both in darkness, it can be a time of slowing or stagnant energy.  It can be more exhausting than the usual daily grind already feels.  But I call us to remember that like the electrical systems all around us, flowing with the potential for light and heat, we are always surrounded with the the potential for light, productivity, creative process, and healing renewal.  It may not be as simple as flipping a light switch or setting a thermostat, which is why we must dedicate ourselves to daily preparation and maintenance of our energy systems.

What is energizing to you?

Enjoying good food, fun books, time out with friends, a phone call to a distant loved one, going to a spiritual event, helping at a service project, doing something silly, getting your crafty side going, taking a soothing bath, moving your body, getting a massage, going to bed earlier, meditating…

When our bodies are reluctant to keep up with time changes, and the transition of seasons, it is an invitation to give ourselves more positive attention.  A calling inside rather than the frenetic pace of Spring and Summer can be rejuvenative and caring.

What brings light and comfort to your life?

How and with whom can you imagine yourself opening spaces in your life to include these opportunities for joy, solace, and renewal?

You are worth it!

“It is better to light a candle than curse the darkness”

(see discussion on authorship: https://quoteinvestigator.com/2017/03/19/candle/ )

(Image from Astronomy picture of the day of the Witch’s Broom Nebula- Credit & Copyright: Adam BlockMount Lemmon SkyCenterUniv. Arizona )