Is it winter blahs already?
Before I go into a rant, I want to clarify that this livejournal account is for the purpose of venting my dark shadow-side thoughts and feelings and sorting out any crap floating in my mind and becoming potentially toxic. I am a content well-rounded and driven person who loves life and is happy 90-95% of the time. I think that's good.
The challenges of hospice chaplaincy (as with any ministry, really) is that there are moments where you are surrounded by the world's despair and hopelessness, lack of meaning and purpose to suffering, and it can start getting to you. Yesterday I spent 3 1/2 hours at the home of a declining patient's wife (pt w/Alzheimers in nursing home). Despite active children living in area, she is alone in an apartment and starting to show signs of dementia. Her life is one struggle after another, with no friends or family of her generation in the area. She has the husk of her husband she cares for and is unable to let go that he might still be in there somewhere. I'm really good at sitting with people in their suffering, not being dramatically sympathetic or awkward. but facing the reality and being okay with it. I know it's such a relief to family and patients when they realize that here's someone I can talk to about dying and death, about fears, about losing control of their life, body, and decisions. And along the way i hear wonderful stories about their life, what is important to them, where they found meaning before aging, illness, and suffering. I've learned so much from these stories, not in just understanding their lives, but understanding the common human story.
I understand and practice the idea that happiness and meaning are practices I have to work on in each moment and day. I understand that the moments of laughter and smiles, the peaceful moments of silence... all of these moments take work. The world is not a happy place or unhappy place naturally, we make it so. Yes, shit is thrown at me (and everyone) that can make life feel miserable. But I have a choice in each moment how to react to it. Once again, the serenity prayer conceptualizes it so well... acknowledge what you do or don't have control over and change what you can.
But, as a chaplain, I also recognize and encourage people to experience and explore those darker danker emotions and thoughts. Ignoring them just means they fester. Even with years of contemplation, analysis of my emotions,etc. I have those moments when the dark stuff won't stay down... and purges forth with the force of the ten plagues of Egypt.
Last night was such a night. I was reading a silly romance novel with shapeshifting panthers and heroine archeologists when Aaron returned home from the library. And I just lost it. The overwhelming sense of hopelessness I buried since my visit with the woman that afternoon burst forth and I cried uncontrollably for about 15 minutes. The entire world was tinged futile and pointless. I hated myself and hated all the suffering in the world with great passion. Even as I ranted and raved between sobs, I knew this wasn't what I REALLY believed, but the dusky shadows around the edges of the bright hope burning in me, the empathically absorbed emotions of a world in perpetual despair. I heard the stories of emotional abuse as a child from one person, experienced first hand the struggles of middle age and then heard the stories of what's waiting when I get old. Seeing the long line of despair that exists from birth to death is a heavy weight in my heart. It happens to people, rich or poor, young or old, any race or gender or nationality or sexual preference. And there truly is no way of protecting someone from it all. Even the most sheltered people will end up creating or experiencing their own misery.
When the 15 minutes was up, I felt renewed. All the dark corners in my heart were swept out and brought to the light. My hope and sense of purpose and meaning felt stronger than ever. I felt blessed to be able to be in those dark places with people, to bond at the ultimate common experience that most try to ignore or pretend doesn't exist.... suffering, dying and death. And I wait with anticipation for the times where a patient or family is in a place of peace, serenity and light despite all the darkness around them.
The challenges of hospice chaplaincy (as with any ministry, really) is that there are moments where you are surrounded by the world's despair and hopelessness, lack of meaning and purpose to suffering, and it can start getting to you. Yesterday I spent 3 1/2 hours at the home of a declining patient's wife (pt w/Alzheimers in nursing home). Despite active children living in area, she is alone in an apartment and starting to show signs of dementia. Her life is one struggle after another, with no friends or family of her generation in the area. She has the husk of her husband she cares for and is unable to let go that he might still be in there somewhere. I'm really good at sitting with people in their suffering, not being dramatically sympathetic or awkward. but facing the reality and being okay with it. I know it's such a relief to family and patients when they realize that here's someone I can talk to about dying and death, about fears, about losing control of their life, body, and decisions. And along the way i hear wonderful stories about their life, what is important to them, where they found meaning before aging, illness, and suffering. I've learned so much from these stories, not in just understanding their lives, but understanding the common human story.
I understand and practice the idea that happiness and meaning are practices I have to work on in each moment and day. I understand that the moments of laughter and smiles, the peaceful moments of silence... all of these moments take work. The world is not a happy place or unhappy place naturally, we make it so. Yes, shit is thrown at me (and everyone) that can make life feel miserable. But I have a choice in each moment how to react to it. Once again, the serenity prayer conceptualizes it so well... acknowledge what you do or don't have control over and change what you can.
But, as a chaplain, I also recognize and encourage people to experience and explore those darker danker emotions and thoughts. Ignoring them just means they fester. Even with years of contemplation, analysis of my emotions,etc. I have those moments when the dark stuff won't stay down... and purges forth with the force of the ten plagues of Egypt.
Last night was such a night. I was reading a silly romance novel with shapeshifting panthers and heroine archeologists when Aaron returned home from the library. And I just lost it. The overwhelming sense of hopelessness I buried since my visit with the woman that afternoon burst forth and I cried uncontrollably for about 15 minutes. The entire world was tinged futile and pointless. I hated myself and hated all the suffering in the world with great passion. Even as I ranted and raved between sobs, I knew this wasn't what I REALLY believed, but the dusky shadows around the edges of the bright hope burning in me, the empathically absorbed emotions of a world in perpetual despair. I heard the stories of emotional abuse as a child from one person, experienced first hand the struggles of middle age and then heard the stories of what's waiting when I get old. Seeing the long line of despair that exists from birth to death is a heavy weight in my heart. It happens to people, rich or poor, young or old, any race or gender or nationality or sexual preference. And there truly is no way of protecting someone from it all. Even the most sheltered people will end up creating or experiencing their own misery.
When the 15 minutes was up, I felt renewed. All the dark corners in my heart were swept out and brought to the light. My hope and sense of purpose and meaning felt stronger than ever. I felt blessed to be able to be in those dark places with people, to bond at the ultimate common experience that most try to ignore or pretend doesn't exist.... suffering, dying and death. And I wait with anticipation for the times where a patient or family is in a place of peace, serenity and light despite all the darkness around them.