Stepping Inside (The Circle)

This weekend, I had the good fortune of working alongside a most compassionate nurse in the ICU where I work as an American Sign Language Medical Interpreter. I’ve written about the stability and presence of this remarkable nurse in a previous blog article. When I entered ICU, we greeted each other and touched base. He looked fresh and alert, his shift having just started. 

As we turned towards the patient, my knowledge added to the mix. I had known the patient for over 30 years and knew preferences and idiosyncrasies such as: the dominant signing arm upon bending to communicate, will occlude IV fluids, memory loss impacts tolerance for uncomfortable tubes, opening the window a crack to let in “cool, refreshing Lake Tahoe air,” is a personal prescription for healing, etc. Walking into the patient’s room was like taking on my “second skin.” I voiced the distress clearly etched on the patient’s features and signs as the care team listened attentively, asked questions and administered life stabilizing care. Respiratory came in and hooked up a suction wand. She asked, “I don’t know if this is appropriate, but with patient’s cognition, the wand will be forgotten. Do you mind reminding and encouraging?” I took a moment to check in with myself—how fully do I make contact with my patient’s experience? There was no resistance to this added role outside my professional parameters, no conflict, so I answered, “Yes. I sure can.” 

Foundation One of the Eight Foundations of Caregiving by Jonathan Prescott is described as, The Balance Between Self and Other. Do we consciously touch into the experience of those receiving our care or do we remain on the outside of their experiences? Exactly when is the point of contact? Every moment of care is a decision point. If we jump in with both feet, we leave behind our resources and our wisdom. To say it as directly as possible—we abandon ourselves in the care equation. However, if we consciously make a decision to touch in, allow the experience of the other person to penetrate our understanding, then we, who have a stable mind and compassionate heart, can be a wise and skillful foundation.

Just as importantly, there are times when rooting ourselves in our own resources is beneficial. Take for instance a painful procedure done only with local anesthesia, which happened this weekend in the ICU. If I touch my patient’s experience too viscerally, jumping two feet in, I will not be an effective interpreter passed out on the floor! It’s a constant dance, an interplay of myself and others. We are one and…we are also two. 

Caregiving Contemplation: This week as you meet people experiencing suffering, can you become aware of the point of contact? When and what is being asked of you? It may not be as direct as the question asked of me, it may be in a vacant expression, a movement, or your own fatigue sapping your strength. As you meet people experiencing happiness, can you be aware of  the point of contact? What draws you in? Every moment is an opportunity to decide, to connect with the joy and pain in ourselves and in our care circles. What is the balance as we ride the scale of wise compassionate care, self and other?  

As the Leaf, So am I

I'm sitting at my writing table window, watching the wind whip clean the Pine branches. Dead, brown pine straw lets go of the trees and flutters to the ground. Everywhere, three-pronged offerings spin down and are received by the earth without any fuss. It's Autumn, after all, it's the cycle of change. I don't always feel the season sloughing off with ease. Many years I have held onto summer as long as possible, but this Autumn, I'm genuinely experiencing letting go. 

Friday, I was invited to participate in feeding our local marginalized community. I showed up at the gathering hall, hoping to sit with people, eat dinner, listen, and get to know folks. The serving team supported my goal one hundred percent, yet something inside kept me busily at a distance. I arrived early and fell into the role of dutifully helping here and helping there. I noticed when I was "serving," taking the plate to a guest, offering water, and asking what was needed, I felt comfortable, friendly, and genuinely connected. Serving was my comfort zone. 

Twice I sat down and engaged with people and was entirely rewarded, not by what I gave but by what I received. Eventually, I met two Jamaican men and asked what brought them to Tahoe. One of the men gently smiled, explaining that the Jamaican dollar had devalued over the years to the point that it was barely worth anything ($100 Jamaican dollars are worth 63 US cents). Socialist Democracy had taken over his country. I knew none of this and listened with rapt attention as he explained his plan to work in the USA and get his life back. He said in a lilting voice, "I'm a man of peace, I don't do violence. Someone told me to come to Lake Tahoe, CA, so here I am. It's beautiful and the people are so nice." He oozed warm-hearted gratitude. 

The other person I sat with was a bedraggled, wild-eyed man who I had met years ago at the Mental Health Department. He bombastically strolled in, sat down, shoveled in his food, and then dramatically pushed his finished plates across the table for the approaching server to gather. He was told to settle down. Genuinely wishing to reconnect, I sat down with this man and another older fellow who quietly sat beside him. He watched all the commotion and didn't move away as the others at his table had. Before I could wonder what to say, I was asked rocket-fire questions: Do you live in Tahoe? How long? How old are you? Do you have children? When did you graduate? Then...introductions followed. The carbonated atmosphere calmed as we told stories and shared desserts. 

At night's end, after cleaning up, the friend who invited me asked if I got what I wanted from the evening. Yes, I answered, and then shared my strong pull towards serving and productivity, not wanting to appear as being a slacker by the team and...the great joy of finally making deeper connections. My friend reiterated her support to just sit, eat, and be with the guests. The team members close by nodded in agreement, "It's what they need most." 

It's what I need most. Is service a shield I wear, or perhaps a cape I tie on before I fly in to save the day? What might happen if I simply show up and let the winds blow me here, blow me there? I know I am ultimately supported 100%, by my practice, by the ground of who I am--the ancestors, my good heart, love, compassion--those things AT MY SERVICE that are inexhaustible. 

May our letting go of the season be gentle, full, and thorough. May we not fight change but trust where it's leading us. Letting go, may we meet our neighbors with nothing to fix and everything to learn.

  

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

…find out what it means to me….

An opportunity to pilot a street chaplaincy program in my hometown has arisen. I recently visited with someone I consider an expert in the arena of street living—a loved one who struggles with homelessness and substance abuse. I asked him, “What’s your advice for me?” This is what he said:

RESPECT — no matter where someone is on their journey, they deserve respect. When I’ve been at my lowest— dirty, garbage bags full of belongings, I’m looked at differently. When I go to Franklin and Marshall College campus, carrying my backpack, in context, I’m treated like everyone else. I’m not bothered, I’m left alone. Yet, when I’m at my worst, someone who smiled at me the day before looks at me differently. When someone is at their lowest, isn’t this when they need respect the most?

BE CAREFUL – if someone doesn’t want to talk, leave them alone. People are capable of doing anything when they’re desperate. Don’t push it, give people space. You never know the full extent of what a person is going through.

It all boils down to respect.

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This beautiful conversation reminded me of our basic humanity and goodness—we all deeply yearn for respect, safety, and dignity. These are universal desires and when extended to another, they connect us in the hardest of circumstances. How many times do our perceptions color what is actually before us? Labels such as addict, recovery, homeless, affluent, and many others, inform our responses. In an age of recognizing and celebrating differences, is basic shared goodness forgotten? Is it possible to simply SEE? Shared humanity and longing are the root of my loved one’s advice based on his personal experience. May all beings everywhere know their worth, and see it reflected back to them. May we be clear mirrors for one another.      

* If you and your family are impacted by substance abuse, homelessness or mental health challenges, please consider reaching out for community support both face-to-face and online at InnerConstellation.com