I put a note in Jayme's lunchbox this morning. Nothing big, just a little thing to say, "Hey, I love you." I don't do it enough. Hardly ever. We have such a finite amount of time to tell those around us we love them. We let so many opportunities fall through our grasp, like holding on to water. Life is so impermanent like that. It is like holding on to water. No matter how hard you try to cup your hands together, water will always find a way around and out of your grasp.
I guess I don't want to get caught trying so desperately to hold on to my life like that. I'd rather be o.k. with it going wherever it is it is going to go. I saw Eian today just dancing. No pretense or care for form, just pure unadulterated joy at moving his body to a song that tickled his dancing bone. I love that. I need more of that in my life. The ability to just let the music of life touch me and send me to dancing. If I can do that, I think I would find more awareness of the beautiful moments around me to enjoy.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Dilitation
What a descriptive word. This is what they did to my small bowel today, a dilitation. Apparently it was successful and I have avoided surgery this time. I have new medication to try and I really want to see a dietician. I am extremely tired though. The prednisone I am on has insomnia as a side effect. So even though I can't keep my eyes open, I can't fall asleep either. It is extremely frustrating. Yet, one benefit, I have lots of alone time late at night to get some writing done on my Readiness Materials. Lots of opportunities to reflect on the past few weeks as well.
My body just feels off right now, but I feel that my spirit and mind are as sharp as ever. Spiritually I feel better than I have in a long time while my body is really struggling. I miss running and really need to get back on the road. My last run was alongside Lake Michigan in Chicago the day before I got sick.
So, I see the doc again in a couple of weeks to change meds and to go from there. Someone did ask me the other day if I still was going ahead with my plans to pursue CPE supervisor education. Hell yeah I plan to still pursue it. This illness can do a lot to me, but it will never keep me from living my life. If I can pursue it, I will. So, I plan to move forward.
Not much more to say tonight. Sorry.
My body just feels off right now, but I feel that my spirit and mind are as sharp as ever. Spiritually I feel better than I have in a long time while my body is really struggling. I miss running and really need to get back on the road. My last run was alongside Lake Michigan in Chicago the day before I got sick.
So, I see the doc again in a couple of weeks to change meds and to go from there. Someone did ask me the other day if I still was going ahead with my plans to pursue CPE supervisor education. Hell yeah I plan to still pursue it. This illness can do a lot to me, but it will never keep me from living my life. If I can pursue it, I will. So, I plan to move forward.
Not much more to say tonight. Sorry.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
The Bravest Thing You'll Ever Do
Brene Brown says, and this is not an exact quote, "accepting your story and loving yourself in the process is the bravest thing you'll ever do."
I would say that it may be the only work we ever will do that actually means anything. I'm discovering more and more as a chaplain that my ability to empathize and sit with the story of someone else, as difficult as that might be, is directly correlated to my own ability in any given moment to sit in my own story. Not only sit in my own story but to LOVE it. Really embrace it with a burning fervent love.
The problem of course is that we are too often running from our story or at least hiding from our story. There is always something in our story that makes us defective somehow. Less than. But less than what? Loving who we really are is a process and it sounds so simple, and it is in a way. The difficulty comes in really accepting that our story is already exactly all it needs to be. There doesn't need to be any embellishment or hyperbole. It just is what it is and I am called to just love it.
Why do we have to be brave to enter this process of accepting and loving our story? Why is this work so dangerous? Because, in the end, and even now, it is all we really own. Nothing else is ours. Money comes and goes, possessions too, even loved ones in perfect relationship (whatever that is) can't escape departing each others presence in death. We can't even claim our own bodies as ours. Our bodies change and decay toward simple organic material daily. No, all we have is our ability to accept and love our story. To accept life simply as it is. One must be brave if that one thing we have is deemed defective.
Our problem is that we try so hard to be perfect to cover up our perceived defectiveness. The reality is that what really makes us defective relationally is that we are unable or unwilling to accept the perfection of our own story and love it. Purely and simply loving it.
Joko Beck says that seeing and accepting simply "life as it is" is the heart of spiritual practice. With my life turning around me in ways I did not see even two weeks ago, I agree.
I would say that it may be the only work we ever will do that actually means anything. I'm discovering more and more as a chaplain that my ability to empathize and sit with the story of someone else, as difficult as that might be, is directly correlated to my own ability in any given moment to sit in my own story. Not only sit in my own story but to LOVE it. Really embrace it with a burning fervent love.
The problem of course is that we are too often running from our story or at least hiding from our story. There is always something in our story that makes us defective somehow. Less than. But less than what? Loving who we really are is a process and it sounds so simple, and it is in a way. The difficulty comes in really accepting that our story is already exactly all it needs to be. There doesn't need to be any embellishment or hyperbole. It just is what it is and I am called to just love it.
Why do we have to be brave to enter this process of accepting and loving our story? Why is this work so dangerous? Because, in the end, and even now, it is all we really own. Nothing else is ours. Money comes and goes, possessions too, even loved ones in perfect relationship (whatever that is) can't escape departing each others presence in death. We can't even claim our own bodies as ours. Our bodies change and decay toward simple organic material daily. No, all we have is our ability to accept and love our story. To accept life simply as it is. One must be brave if that one thing we have is deemed defective.
Our problem is that we try so hard to be perfect to cover up our perceived defectiveness. The reality is that what really makes us defective relationally is that we are unable or unwilling to accept the perfection of our own story and love it. Purely and simply loving it.
Joko Beck says that seeing and accepting simply "life as it is" is the heart of spiritual practice. With my life turning around me in ways I did not see even two weeks ago, I agree.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
If You Make it to Kansas City But No One Is There to See You...
Well, I meant to make my first ACPE conference in Kansas City this past week. I made it to Kansas City, barely, but did not attend a single event at the conference.
I have Chrohns Disease. It has decided to take a turn toward the dark side. I have been doing fairly well since being diagnosed five years ago. Simmering I guess. Well, now I'm in a full boil. My gut decided to close up after the Cubs game last Sunday and I was on a train to Kansas City Monday afternoon. I made it to the ER at Truman Medical Center in KC just after midnight after getting off the train. I was in so much pain, I could not tell you!!!!! If not for Ken and our friend Jose who had already arrived in KC ahead of us with a car, I would have been in bad shape. Needless to say I flew home to Round Rock on Tuesday afternoon, barely making that trip as well. I saw the doctor on Wednesday and discovered I have a blockage and need to have a dilation this coming Thursday.
Now I face the reality of living with a chronic disease in a new and more profound way. IV infusions are most likely in my future and I have no idea yet how this reality will affect me professionally or personally yet. What I do know is that I am not letting this keep me from enjoying my life. I love my kids, my family, my baseball and everything else. I continue to do that. I NEED that. That is not to say that discouragement does not creep up on me. It does. Especially when the pain hits or the gut feels like a balloon with way too much air. The real problem for me, and the one I am least focusing on at the moment at least consciously, is what this illness MEANS for me. Spiritually, what is this illness going to mean for me. Look, the physical is the obvious. I am going to have physical issues, even ones that might cause me to die earlier than I would ideally like, that I understand. What I can't quite grasp is how I LIVE with this. I don't mean that I can't live with this. I do and I will. What I mean is can I live with it in such a way that I don't have to alter my course, particularly on a personal level, but also in my desire to be a CPE Supervisor. I mean, how do I use this to be a better person and caretaker, a better educator, a better parent, a better husband, a better minister... just better.
When I talked to my mother a few days ago to let her in on my life change, she said that this shouldn't be happening. My reaction was that, actually, it should. Not Chrohns Disease necessarily, but something. We all have deal with something. This is my something. Life is not avoiding the suffering, it is how we LIVE with the suffering. This disease is helping me learn how to live in such a way that happiness can always be my true home and companion. Thich Nhat Hahn, my teacher reminds me of this in his writings. The sound of the bell brings us to our true home. I guess the movement of my bowels does the same for me. Kind of crass I know, but the truth. I guess I'm saying that I seek not to suffer with Chrohns Disease, but to live with it and still find happiness.
On the train from Chicago to Kansas City, I apologized to Ken for being a terrible travel partner. His response helped me. He said given everything I was going through I was an excellent travel partner. I was physically in pain, great pain, but I was not suffering. I only begin to suffer when the pain departs and I have time to think about what is going on with me. In the meantime... I will live, laugh and love.
I have Chrohns Disease. It has decided to take a turn toward the dark side. I have been doing fairly well since being diagnosed five years ago. Simmering I guess. Well, now I'm in a full boil. My gut decided to close up after the Cubs game last Sunday and I was on a train to Kansas City Monday afternoon. I made it to the ER at Truman Medical Center in KC just after midnight after getting off the train. I was in so much pain, I could not tell you!!!!! If not for Ken and our friend Jose who had already arrived in KC ahead of us with a car, I would have been in bad shape. Needless to say I flew home to Round Rock on Tuesday afternoon, barely making that trip as well. I saw the doctor on Wednesday and discovered I have a blockage and need to have a dilation this coming Thursday.
Now I face the reality of living with a chronic disease in a new and more profound way. IV infusions are most likely in my future and I have no idea yet how this reality will affect me professionally or personally yet. What I do know is that I am not letting this keep me from enjoying my life. I love my kids, my family, my baseball and everything else. I continue to do that. I NEED that. That is not to say that discouragement does not creep up on me. It does. Especially when the pain hits or the gut feels like a balloon with way too much air. The real problem for me, and the one I am least focusing on at the moment at least consciously, is what this illness MEANS for me. Spiritually, what is this illness going to mean for me. Look, the physical is the obvious. I am going to have physical issues, even ones that might cause me to die earlier than I would ideally like, that I understand. What I can't quite grasp is how I LIVE with this. I don't mean that I can't live with this. I do and I will. What I mean is can I live with it in such a way that I don't have to alter my course, particularly on a personal level, but also in my desire to be a CPE Supervisor. I mean, how do I use this to be a better person and caretaker, a better educator, a better parent, a better husband, a better minister... just better.
When I talked to my mother a few days ago to let her in on my life change, she said that this shouldn't be happening. My reaction was that, actually, it should. Not Chrohns Disease necessarily, but something. We all have deal with something. This is my something. Life is not avoiding the suffering, it is how we LIVE with the suffering. This disease is helping me learn how to live in such a way that happiness can always be my true home and companion. Thich Nhat Hahn, my teacher reminds me of this in his writings. The sound of the bell brings us to our true home. I guess the movement of my bowels does the same for me. Kind of crass I know, but the truth. I guess I'm saying that I seek not to suffer with Chrohns Disease, but to live with it and still find happiness.
On the train from Chicago to Kansas City, I apologized to Ken for being a terrible travel partner. His response helped me. He said given everything I was going through I was an excellent travel partner. I was physically in pain, great pain, but I was not suffering. I only begin to suffer when the pain departs and I have time to think about what is going on with me. In the meantime... I will live, laugh and love.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
A Fear of Falling, oops, Failing
Too often, we as flawed human beings seem to work from a place of fear rather than from a place of empowerment. Fear dictates our actions. Fear keeps us from doing the right thing and from pursuing justice with our words or in our actions. Living in fear is devastating.
I was watching my daughter yesterday live in her fear of riding her bike without the training wheels and I became extremely frustrated. Angry even. Yet, she seems paralyzed enough by her fear she will not take a risk of trying something new, no matter how much she wants to do it. Risk aversion. To me though, it doesn't seem to be connected to her fear of falling, but out of her fear of failing. Almost as if she can't KNOW she will succeed, she will not try it.
The anger and frustration I felt comes from my own risk aversion sometimes. I don't particularly like to try things that I don't think I will be successful at either. In fact, I have often sabotaged myself out of this fear. Screwing up on purpose is so much easier than screwing up on accident.
This shame stuff is really playing with me lately. When I see it in people I love, it really makes me angry. I want my children to feel free to fail and still be o.k. with themselves. I want them to be spared of the shame that is inherent, it seems for me, in failing. Then I wonder how I end up shaming them myself and perpetuate their fear of failing.
Fear of failing. I'd rather be afraid of falling.
I was watching my daughter yesterday live in her fear of riding her bike without the training wheels and I became extremely frustrated. Angry even. Yet, she seems paralyzed enough by her fear she will not take a risk of trying something new, no matter how much she wants to do it. Risk aversion. To me though, it doesn't seem to be connected to her fear of falling, but out of her fear of failing. Almost as if she can't KNOW she will succeed, she will not try it.
The anger and frustration I felt comes from my own risk aversion sometimes. I don't particularly like to try things that I don't think I will be successful at either. In fact, I have often sabotaged myself out of this fear. Screwing up on purpose is so much easier than screwing up on accident.
This shame stuff is really playing with me lately. When I see it in people I love, it really makes me angry. I want my children to feel free to fail and still be o.k. with themselves. I want them to be spared of the shame that is inherent, it seems for me, in failing. Then I wonder how I end up shaming them myself and perpetuate their fear of failing.
Fear of failing. I'd rather be afraid of falling.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Prayer Flags
I made a prayer flag today with the guidance of a dear friend and colleague, Stephanie. The exercise was to create a space in which I could reflect on what I need to go out into the universe. I focused of course on the beginning of this journey of CPE and decided I needed to place on the flag what I most need to remember as I go through this process. I wrote on four panels of cloth:
Live
Always
In the
Present
I then wrote a haiku on each panel using the word I highlighted on each.
I want to live full
Like a firefly in sunset
Blazing bright, yet brief
(obviously still stewing on yesterday's prophecy)
Always, not able
For all things will change and die
Yet, I choose becoming
The present is just
knowing there is no greater
present to be had
Yesterday's encounter tapped into so much fear and anxiety within me that I was not even aware of. The key word is vulnerable. I felt incredibly vulnerable. Exposed. It exposed a deeper shame than one's I have been more keenly aware of. Namely this: there is something so wrong with me, I was not even designed to live a long happy life with my family. The point of whether the prophecy is "accurate" or not is irrelevant to me. What is relevant is that it genuinely tapped into fear and shame that lives in me. I flew from that room with my tail between my legs and I am now beginning the process to learn more from this gift. The prayer flags is my start. I live in the present with this. Only there can I find joy. Tomorrow has enough troubles of its own.
Live
Always
In the
Present
I then wrote a haiku on each panel using the word I highlighted on each.
I want to live full
Like a firefly in sunset
Blazing bright, yet brief
(obviously still stewing on yesterday's prophecy)
Always, not able
For all things will change and die
Yet, I choose becoming
The present is just
knowing there is no greater
present to be had
Yesterday's encounter tapped into so much fear and anxiety within me that I was not even aware of. The key word is vulnerable. I felt incredibly vulnerable. Exposed. It exposed a deeper shame than one's I have been more keenly aware of. Namely this: there is something so wrong with me, I was not even designed to live a long happy life with my family. The point of whether the prophecy is "accurate" or not is irrelevant to me. What is relevant is that it genuinely tapped into fear and shame that lives in me. I flew from that room with my tail between my legs and I am now beginning the process to learn more from this gift. The prayer flags is my start. I live in the present with this. Only there can I find joy. Tomorrow has enough troubles of its own.
Monday, March 1, 2010
A Prophecy and Other Delightful Things
A couple of years ago I had a bird land on my shoulder and stay for a while. He was just hanging out. At the time, many people said to me that it was an omen. A sign from God. What I wondered was what was it a sign of. Was it a good omen or a bad one? I'm not all that into omens to begin with, but the event was weird and rare enough that I wondered if there was a thought out there. My research turned up that a bird landing on you was a sign that you were going to die soon. Delightful.
Today while I'm visiting patients in the IMCU, I encounter a patient that states to me, "Why have you given up?" I was taken aback to say the least. Rarely at a loss for words, this time I was. I was rattled a bit for sure. I sought clarification on her statement. She tells me that my wife (whom I had not mentioned in our conversation) is meant for great things and will learn to live without me. My destiny is to prepare my kids to live without me. I can buy five more years by accepting the nurturing of my parents or I can continue to believe they are dragging me into the grave with them and die soon and leave my children without my love.
Was I just told in the context of a pastoral care visit that I am going to die soon and need to get ready? My sense is that she believes herself to be a psychic and was giving me helpful advice, and perhaps she is, even if I am not dying soon. Shouldn't I always be giving my kids the spiritual and emotional tools to live without me?
Not my best pastoral care work. I could have explored more about what this was about for her and what she was needing to tell me, but I just wanted to get the hell out of there. Perhaps what scares me is that she might be right. Maybe I have surrendered to a reality I envision for myself in ways I'm not fully aware of.
My meditation today focused on asking God for what we need. Like a parent knowing not to give a rock when our child asks for bread. God gives us so much more if only we ask. I never ask for anything in prayer. Maybe it is because I have given up. Maybe I have abandoned the notion God works that way. Or, maybe it is because I understand that I am responsible for answering my own prayers. Maybe I could begin a practice of asking for what I need. Maybe what I need is to know that for whatever time I have is time well spent with those I love. So, that is what I ask, not for more time. I will have what I will have. I just want what I have to be well spent. Amen.
Today while I'm visiting patients in the IMCU, I encounter a patient that states to me, "Why have you given up?" I was taken aback to say the least. Rarely at a loss for words, this time I was. I was rattled a bit for sure. I sought clarification on her statement. She tells me that my wife (whom I had not mentioned in our conversation) is meant for great things and will learn to live without me. My destiny is to prepare my kids to live without me. I can buy five more years by accepting the nurturing of my parents or I can continue to believe they are dragging me into the grave with them and die soon and leave my children without my love.
Was I just told in the context of a pastoral care visit that I am going to die soon and need to get ready? My sense is that she believes herself to be a psychic and was giving me helpful advice, and perhaps she is, even if I am not dying soon. Shouldn't I always be giving my kids the spiritual and emotional tools to live without me?
Not my best pastoral care work. I could have explored more about what this was about for her and what she was needing to tell me, but I just wanted to get the hell out of there. Perhaps what scares me is that she might be right. Maybe I have surrendered to a reality I envision for myself in ways I'm not fully aware of.
My meditation today focused on asking God for what we need. Like a parent knowing not to give a rock when our child asks for bread. God gives us so much more if only we ask. I never ask for anything in prayer. Maybe it is because I have given up. Maybe I have abandoned the notion God works that way. Or, maybe it is because I understand that I am responsible for answering my own prayers. Maybe I could begin a practice of asking for what I need. Maybe what I need is to know that for whatever time I have is time well spent with those I love. So, that is what I ask, not for more time. I will have what I will have. I just want what I have to be well spent. Amen.
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