II am a teacher and so if I am to be good at my job, I must be prepared. I must have thought through the day's focus, the needs of the class, and be ready to guide the thinking and discussion around that focus. So, when I began an internship as a hospital chaplain, I had to learn an entirely different way to "prepare". I had to learn that I was prepared when I was totally empty of my own agenda. I had to prepare myself to truly listen and that reqruired making space within to receive whatever was about to be received. IF we are too full of ourselves, we have no internal availability to receive the other.
What a powerful line, Caitlin: “I had to learn that I was prepared when I was totally empty of my own agenda.” It is often a hard place to get to, but, as you attested to, a place where one can truly receive what one needs to receive. Thank you.
Exactly. In my early days in seminary, almost 25 years ago, I was offered an image that has stayed with me strongly. A man who was a hospital chaplain in San Francisco came to talk to us students about his work. He said that before going into a room he would imagine putting all his own agenda items, cares, enthusiasms into a back pack and placing it in the hallway near the door. He would leave all those things outside knowing they would be there for him to reclaim and take with him once the visit was over. The backpack image makes the practice so tangible for me. This practice has really helped over the years. That was before cell phones, of course, but a contemporary addition is to turn off my phone completely because even little vibrations distract me into wondering who is trying to reach me.
Lovely! And precisely why my phone is always on silent. Which begs the question, why even carry one, but it is so I can receive what is there on my time! XO
It is being too full of myself that often ruins what could otherwise be a pleasant encounter with a clerk at the hardware store where I am trying to complete a transaction which is not going ‘my way’. Thank you for that thought.
Bless you, Janie Cook! For I was thinking, upon reading the prompt, I'd rather NOT prepare. I love how eloquently you said it, "If we are too full of ourselves, we have no internal availability to receive the other." I wonder...can our guests "see" or feel, rather, our "No Vacancy" signs posted on our hearts when we DO try and prepare. It just seems a little bit like peeking at a present before you are set to receive it, when you try and prepare ahead of time. You miss the surprise and mystery and, too, set yourself up for all kinds of perceived failure when it doesn't go how you think it should or want it to. Thank you!! Perfect share. We are kindred spirits. XO
What a beautiful question. Thank you Padraig. Three things this week come to mind.
1. Preparing to visit a family after the unexpected death of their brother, a young man. I breathe and listen as I get the information from the funeral director and I take notes. I breathe again. I find out how many people will come to the meeting and who they are. 20. It's not usual to have that many people for a first meeting with a celebrant to discuss what rituals and ceremony are being called for. I welcome this 'grief circle' because this is how I imagine I can connect with so many folk. I create an outline, the words I will use to introduce myself. I hear whispers in the background of my mind. What will I say? How will I be with this family? What if it gets out of control? I breathe again. I offer myself self empathy. I check in for the shared needs that I imagine are present. Mourning. Safety. Connection. Understanding. I go gently with myself and trust I will know what to say. I will listen and guide and listen some more.
2. As I prepare to guide a mediation within a small company, I breathe as I start the preparations for the meeting by listening and offering empathy (both silent and spoken) to the key individuals. I note the points of connection that might become possible and the needs that I witness as being present both met and unmet needs. When I feel unsettled, I offer my concerned Wendy: self empathy. I hold myself close. I remind myself I am here to listen, to facilitate, to trust. I take time to listen to my own inner guidance of what I sense will be the best path forward within the skill base that I think we will all bring into the mediation circle.
3. Before my two grandchildren, 7 and 10, come over for the weekend... I breathe. I prepare by ensuring I have food in the house and their beds made. I rest up. I connect with my intention to play and hang out and to provide a safe place. I breathe a lot. This weekend, I was pushed and found a tired grandma lurking not too far beneath the surface. Sometimes that happens no matter how much I prepare. Best then to breathe, and call in grandpa support!
In this precious life how do I prepare?
Breathe mindfully... often, everyday.
Practice self empathy so I can live into the hard moments.
Practice deep listening and empathy with a sense of curiosity, an intention to connect, mindful presence, awareness of needs....
Connect with a friend.
Trust the sacredness of each moment... and don't take it all too seriously. Love.
I hadn't heard this saying but it reminds me with fondness of my late husband. When we would visit family or friends he would almost always jump up after dinner and cheerfully say, "It's my job to do the dishes."
Love this, Sarah! My MIL always has a three ring circus at her house when we are invited to visit. I always assumed she thrived on it. I only learned in the last few years that she hates doing all that cooking. Just before I learned it, I did the dishes at one such visit and she was beside herself with gratitude over it, because I just dug in without asking if it was needed. Doing the dishes and cleaning, in the midst of a three ring circus, is my pleasure. It is one of those mindless tasks that I can relish, while not having to be a part of the circus around me.
She has since told me that knowing I'm there to clean makes it easier for her to cope with the cooking. So, I happen to resonate very strongly with your number 4. Thanks for sharing! XO
Thank you for sharing Danielle. I have found that when I'm in a swirl, be it at work or home, a small act of kindness can save me. I used to be a pre-school teacher in a therapeutic pre-school for homeless children in New Mexico. As you can imagine, Christmas is a difficult time for homeless families. The classroom was a near riot every day. On one particularly difficult day, my Secret Santa sent me a mug of hot mulled apple cider. I have never forgotten the sweetness of both the cider and the act of preparing and sending it to me. Your MIL is lucky to have you.
Oh my word, I can imagine!! What a great service you gave to those children though, thank you! That is beautiful. I love your Secret Santa gift. Yum! XO
I take inspiration from my father, a celebrated horse trainer who could become apoplectic in the face of minor irritations but, when a true difficult circumstance occurred - serious injury to a horse, a car accident or other major trauma - would enter an almost beatific state of calm. I didn’t realize it at the time, but from a small child he modeled to me ‘ how to keep your head when all around are losing theirs.’ We had a challenging relationship all our lives but that skill has seen me through and held me through deaths and heartaches a-plenty.
In preparing to visit my longtime friend, I remind myself of the loveliness of the place, good times we have shared, look forward to eating food I love and walks in the high desert. I try to prepare to be as patient as I can be, to listen more than I speak. I remind myself that words I will hear will come from a place of fear and of self-preservation. My friend is experiencing dementia with paranoia. Some of the times are like old times. Other times there is nothing I can say to convince her that the keys have not been stolen, but have been lost. And a few times I lose things, too, like my patience and sense of humor. I keep getting ready to go back, because each time is harder.
As a former teacher, preparation was vital. I taught religious studies to juniors and seniors in high school; the courses included “loss, grief, and healing,” “social justice,” and “christology.” I felt fortunate having had a good deal of free rein in developing these courses. So for me, prep work was a creative process. How can I create lesson plans that were not only accurate, meaningful, and relevant, but also dynamic and engaging. This involved both the science (possessing a strong knowledge of the subject matter) and the art (learning how to execute this material to real human beings). In my later years of teaching, an emerging mindset evolved in my approach to teaching. Rather than asking the question: how can I be a good teacher? (certainly a valid question), I started to ask myself this question: “how can I enjoy the students and how can we, together, enjoy the subject matter? This approach helped me to become more attentive and more appreciative of the students. During class, I became a better listener; I was freer to improvise. This new mindset made a real difference. I acquired a new competency — “the competency of enjoyment.”
Such a fantastic response. From one teacher to a former teacher, I definitely appreciate this guidance. “I acquired a new competency — “the competency of enjoyment.” I will carry this with me.
What a lovely question to ask of yourself, Michael! I trust you were taught just as much by the students as you were teaching and that enriched the whole experience even more! Beautiful!! XO
So true, we learn much from our students. The classroom can be a dynamic interchange and a rich, nourishing experience for all. Thank you, Danielle, for yet another thought-provoking comment.
This is such an interesting question as it makes me consider all of the ways I orient myself in relationships. Most of my preparation is emotional, primarily because I have a faulty memory.
With old friends, I don’t prepare at all. If there is any preparation it is that I should be in a space to let my guard completely down. Preparation for relaxation.
With acquaintances, I try to draw on the emotions I felt when last we were together. This, touching on the memory issue, is because I may not remember their name or many facts about them, but I store their faces and how they made me feel when we looked at each other.
Preparation for teaching is an entirely different thing and could take up a page, but it’s something to consider that work is a kind of visitation as well.
As my mobility has diminished and my ability to “do” for others has diminished with it, I am learning to embrace and value the sport of “lounging with Lori “ I have to offer. I am humbled and grateful for those who choose to receive it and the gifts for each of us therein.
Lovely! I love your thoughts, especially, on your visits with acquaintances, reminiscent of that Maya Angelou quote! And it's a quote I draw on often, when I am having visits - that's the perspective and heart frame I want to bring to visitors! XO
I was a nurse in the community for many years. The unknown played a major part in initial visits. What was I walking into? Were their homes safe? What would be their state on mind when I arrived? Many unknown factors. A very real result of these visits, was the humbling effect they had on me. It’s a good reminder to be grateful for the abundance in my life.
I focus on the person I'm talking with. What's their story? Their feelings? Their reactions? I usually leave astounded at life's many faces of joy and pain. Mostly joy.
When something unexpected arrives at my doorstep, I usually have to gather myself before I can do anything. Recently my Dad (90) had emergency surgery and was in the ICU. I had to drive 6 hours to be with him and help my mom. That gave me the time to compose myself and go over in my head all I wanted to share with him. But most importantly, I learned from this visit (besides bringing a phone charger!) was to listen, breathe, be present, breathe, give grace, and breathe. All of this gave me the gift of peace when he passed 5 days later. I am still breathing and now giving much grace to myself.
I am sorry for your recent loss Kathy...find something special that reminds you of your dad...hang it somewhere visible and be reminded of his presence, his gifts, and his grace he blessed you with over the years.
I am a social worker and I’ve spent my career entering homes. No matter what that home looks like, how I feel about it, or where it is, I remind myself that it is their home. Same as mine. Everywhere is someone’s home.
Every time I read the offering/letter/reading from the week’s Poetry Unbound, I find I fall down a kind of rabbit hole of looking up references I do not know. Today was first the reference to the Ignastian examen. I quickly peruse the article, a further, more in depth reading can wait for another day. Then it is to read the full text of Anne Etta Green’s “How to Visit the Personal Care Home”. That is read in its entirety until I am crying with its poignancy and truth.
Then the words “Preparation is the heart of survival.May it lead us somewhere better.”
It sounds almost like a prayer. And then, what was the question? How to prepare for what comes to you in your week? I keep an old school wall calendar on the door to the hallway in my apartment. So my week starts with a reminder of what and where I have agreed to go or do.
As for a list of wisdom, that is hard, isn’t it? I went to a wake for a woman who had been a friend of my mother’s. Before I went I thought about this person and what story(s) I could tell about her. I cherished every story or memory that people told me when my husband died. Stories and memories bring the person back to them in a form.
When I’ve gone for a planned visit to the ill or the bereaved, I tend to take food. Something that nourishes not just the body but the soul. Who feels like cooking when you are ill, or bereaved, or just plain sad? Something in a container that they don’t have to remember who brought it over and return.
I think so much of life is showing up for things, whatever the reason. Remembering what is happening in their lives, asking about it, giving them permission to share or unload, or vent.
I was with you in the rabbit hole this morning, Elaine. My goodness- “How to Visit the Personal Care Home” proved an intense but needed read on my end. I forwarded it to my sister who, in typical form responded, "Thanks a LOT, Padraig. That was depressing AF." LOL. She read it, though, so I'm calling it a win.
Your comments on visiting with the bereaved struck a deep chord as well. "So much of life is showing up for things." YES. Thank you for sharing♥.
Thanks for reading “How To,” Elaine. I agree with you that bringing food is such an important part of preparation. Mom herself would prepare a whole meal and then would delegate it to me and my father to bring it—the 1/2 a ham, the rolls, the chocolate cake (2 layer).
When I know I will have a difficult encounter, I usually try to write what I wish to say so that I do not say what I don't wish to say. I want to be clear on requests or proposals (even demands & boundaries) without getting carried away by emotion. I try to prepare and ask questions that I hope will bring understanding, as well as try to communicate my concern for finding common ground.
I‘m a teacher, preparing to wrap up the year and dive into a full summer. I prepare for endings with reflections, mine and my students- what went well, what can be done differently, and always a celebration of what was, no matter how we feel about the work. We showed up, we tried as best as we could, we came together as a community. There is something rare and beautiful in that.
For summer, I am preparing for my son’s wedding to a lovely young woman, inside and out. I am packing for my roadtrip to Minnesota for their big day. They will have an ancestor’s table, those whom they have loved, but who are gone. I am packing photos for my son to share from our family, and look forward to seeing/ meeting his bride’s ancestors. I love how inclusive and grounding this will be for the celebration.
I then proceed to the West coast… a place I love as well, but will be trying to connect with a family member struggling with mental health and addiction. I am hopeful, but realistic. Will lean on my 12-step community and praying that way will come. I will seek solace on long beach walks to live the questions and pall of grief that addiction has on all who come in contact with it.
Depending on how that goes, I may wend my way to Texas, to meet with family and friends. More long walks, time with friends and horses. Soaking in the heat that I know but don’t miss. I look forward to attending Alanon and Quaker meetings there- where it feels the soul of Texas resides.
I feel blessed to be able to have a summer- something I have only recently been able to do. I love this time away from planning and the classroom- How my creativity and whimsy - joy returns. And I vow not to lose this feeling, make plans how to be true to this pledge. Try again at the start of a new school year.
Relying on my 12 step practices and community is absolutely essential as I prepare to visit with family members I have not seen in a long while. All that I am learning in this program is a lifesaver an absolutely necessary for my healing and mental health.
Oftentimes, I spend a lot of time preparing for the known unknowns while swiftly rejecting the butterflies that show up in my stomach when my unruly thoughts wander to the possibility of unknown unknowns. As with many people, I am scared of what I cannot predict.
There's a lot online that implores '10 things not to say to a person with x illness' or 'the one thing you have to say to someone going off to college'. In my desperation to accompany people well, I've let these injunctions overwhelm me and snuff out my own in the moment intuition for how to show up for someone I love, or who I am just visiting for some reason. In the end, this has made the unknown unknowns all the more threatening.
I am trying, now, to visit by advice the author John Green received from his supervisor when he was a chaplain in training: "don't just do something, stand there." Oftentimes my nerves are on fire with the desire to do something, to fix something, to balance the energy in the room. But I have a sense that none of that is my highest and best use when I am accompanying someone. So I am doing my best to stand there, in the uncertainty of the situation and of the uncomfortable reality that I'll likely never be certain about the charge or magnitude of my impact on it.
Your words “when I am accompanying someone” speak volumes. It is the act of being with that matters so much. To see it this way is to go along for the ride. Very wise. … And I remember reading those words of advice John Greene recalls receiving in his wonderful nonfiction book The Anthropocene Reviewed. Thanks for reminding me.
II am a teacher and so if I am to be good at my job, I must be prepared. I must have thought through the day's focus, the needs of the class, and be ready to guide the thinking and discussion around that focus. So, when I began an internship as a hospital chaplain, I had to learn an entirely different way to "prepare". I had to learn that I was prepared when I was totally empty of my own agenda. I had to prepare myself to truly listen and that reqruired making space within to receive whatever was about to be received. IF we are too full of ourselves, we have no internal availability to receive the other.
What a powerful line, Caitlin: “I had to learn that I was prepared when I was totally empty of my own agenda.” It is often a hard place to get to, but, as you attested to, a place where one can truly receive what one needs to receive. Thank you.
Exactly. In my early days in seminary, almost 25 years ago, I was offered an image that has stayed with me strongly. A man who was a hospital chaplain in San Francisco came to talk to us students about his work. He said that before going into a room he would imagine putting all his own agenda items, cares, enthusiasms into a back pack and placing it in the hallway near the door. He would leave all those things outside knowing they would be there for him to reclaim and take with him once the visit was over. The backpack image makes the practice so tangible for me. This practice has really helped over the years. That was before cell phones, of course, but a contemporary addition is to turn off my phone completely because even little vibrations distract me into wondering who is trying to reach me.
Lovely! And precisely why my phone is always on silent. Which begs the question, why even carry one, but it is so I can receive what is there on my time! XO
"IF we are too full of ourselves, we have no internal availability to receive the other." WOW WOW WOW. Thank you!!!
“I had to learn an entirely different way to prepare.” Wise insight.
It is being too full of myself that often ruins what could otherwise be a pleasant encounter with a clerk at the hardware store where I am trying to complete a transaction which is not going ‘my way’. Thank you for that thought.
“If we are too full of ourselves, we have no internal availability to receive the other”.
Thank you, I needed this reminder today!
Bless you, Janie Cook! For I was thinking, upon reading the prompt, I'd rather NOT prepare. I love how eloquently you said it, "If we are too full of ourselves, we have no internal availability to receive the other." I wonder...can our guests "see" or feel, rather, our "No Vacancy" signs posted on our hearts when we DO try and prepare. It just seems a little bit like peeking at a present before you are set to receive it, when you try and prepare ahead of time. You miss the surprise and mystery and, too, set yourself up for all kinds of perceived failure when it doesn't go how you think it should or want it to. Thank you!! Perfect share. We are kindred spirits. XO
What a beautiful question. Thank you Padraig. Three things this week come to mind.
1. Preparing to visit a family after the unexpected death of their brother, a young man. I breathe and listen as I get the information from the funeral director and I take notes. I breathe again. I find out how many people will come to the meeting and who they are. 20. It's not usual to have that many people for a first meeting with a celebrant to discuss what rituals and ceremony are being called for. I welcome this 'grief circle' because this is how I imagine I can connect with so many folk. I create an outline, the words I will use to introduce myself. I hear whispers in the background of my mind. What will I say? How will I be with this family? What if it gets out of control? I breathe again. I offer myself self empathy. I check in for the shared needs that I imagine are present. Mourning. Safety. Connection. Understanding. I go gently with myself and trust I will know what to say. I will listen and guide and listen some more.
2. As I prepare to guide a mediation within a small company, I breathe as I start the preparations for the meeting by listening and offering empathy (both silent and spoken) to the key individuals. I note the points of connection that might become possible and the needs that I witness as being present both met and unmet needs. When I feel unsettled, I offer my concerned Wendy: self empathy. I hold myself close. I remind myself I am here to listen, to facilitate, to trust. I take time to listen to my own inner guidance of what I sense will be the best path forward within the skill base that I think we will all bring into the mediation circle.
3. Before my two grandchildren, 7 and 10, come over for the weekend... I breathe. I prepare by ensuring I have food in the house and their beds made. I rest up. I connect with my intention to play and hang out and to provide a safe place. I breathe a lot. This weekend, I was pushed and found a tired grandma lurking not too far beneath the surface. Sometimes that happens no matter how much I prepare. Best then to breathe, and call in grandpa support!
In this precious life how do I prepare?
Breathe mindfully... often, everyday.
Practice self empathy so I can live into the hard moments.
Practice deep listening and empathy with a sense of curiosity, an intention to connect, mindful presence, awareness of needs....
Connect with a friend.
Trust the sacredness of each moment... and don't take it all too seriously. Love.
I loved this: "Trust the sacredness of the moment...and don't take it all too seriously." Lovely paradox. Thank you.
Probably wise advice for much of our days ❤️
To breathe! To pause! To collect yourself. To trust yourself. Beautiful reflections, Wendy!
My list: 1. A soft heart 2. Leave my opinions at the door 3. Something sweet to have with tea 4. Rubber gloves if the dishes need washing.
oh this brings to mind a comment from a friend, about visiting someone at a difficult time, “if you don’t know what to do, there are always dishes.”
I hadn't heard this saying but it reminds me with fondness of my late husband. When we would visit family or friends he would almost always jump up after dinner and cheerfully say, "It's my job to do the dishes."
Short, sweet and wise! Thanks.
Love this, Sarah! My MIL always has a three ring circus at her house when we are invited to visit. I always assumed she thrived on it. I only learned in the last few years that she hates doing all that cooking. Just before I learned it, I did the dishes at one such visit and she was beside herself with gratitude over it, because I just dug in without asking if it was needed. Doing the dishes and cleaning, in the midst of a three ring circus, is my pleasure. It is one of those mindless tasks that I can relish, while not having to be a part of the circus around me.
She has since told me that knowing I'm there to clean makes it easier for her to cope with the cooking. So, I happen to resonate very strongly with your number 4. Thanks for sharing! XO
Thank you for sharing Danielle. I have found that when I'm in a swirl, be it at work or home, a small act of kindness can save me. I used to be a pre-school teacher in a therapeutic pre-school for homeless children in New Mexico. As you can imagine, Christmas is a difficult time for homeless families. The classroom was a near riot every day. On one particularly difficult day, my Secret Santa sent me a mug of hot mulled apple cider. I have never forgotten the sweetness of both the cider and the act of preparing and sending it to me. Your MIL is lucky to have you.
Oh my word, I can imagine!! What a great service you gave to those children though, thank you! That is beautiful. I love your Secret Santa gift. Yum! XO
I take inspiration from my father, a celebrated horse trainer who could become apoplectic in the face of minor irritations but, when a true difficult circumstance occurred - serious injury to a horse, a car accident or other major trauma - would enter an almost beatific state of calm. I didn’t realize it at the time, but from a small child he modeled to me ‘ how to keep your head when all around are losing theirs.’ We had a challenging relationship all our lives but that skill has seen me through and held me through deaths and heartaches a-plenty.
I really appreciate this very much! Treating our calamities as horses--and being calm with them!!!
I hadn’t thought of it that way round, but that is perfect, thank you!
A touching remembrance of an aptitude — a gift — your father passed down to you. Thank you, Tina, for highlighting this.
Yes! Ulysses S Grant had this ability.
In preparing to visit my longtime friend, I remind myself of the loveliness of the place, good times we have shared, look forward to eating food I love and walks in the high desert. I try to prepare to be as patient as I can be, to listen more than I speak. I remind myself that words I will hear will come from a place of fear and of self-preservation. My friend is experiencing dementia with paranoia. Some of the times are like old times. Other times there is nothing I can say to convince her that the keys have not been stolen, but have been lost. And a few times I lose things, too, like my patience and sense of humor. I keep getting ready to go back, because each time is harder.
…”to listen more than I speak.” So wise, in almost every situation
Words of wisdom I hope to take with me in a pending visit. You’ve offered balm to my uneasiness. Thank you.
I am so glad to know this…my best to you.
Beautiful and heartwarming! Thank you, Karen.
As a former teacher, preparation was vital. I taught religious studies to juniors and seniors in high school; the courses included “loss, grief, and healing,” “social justice,” and “christology.” I felt fortunate having had a good deal of free rein in developing these courses. So for me, prep work was a creative process. How can I create lesson plans that were not only accurate, meaningful, and relevant, but also dynamic and engaging. This involved both the science (possessing a strong knowledge of the subject matter) and the art (learning how to execute this material to real human beings). In my later years of teaching, an emerging mindset evolved in my approach to teaching. Rather than asking the question: how can I be a good teacher? (certainly a valid question), I started to ask myself this question: “how can I enjoy the students and how can we, together, enjoy the subject matter? This approach helped me to become more attentive and more appreciative of the students. During class, I became a better listener; I was freer to improvise. This new mindset made a real difference. I acquired a new competency — “the competency of enjoyment.”
Such a fantastic response. From one teacher to a former teacher, I definitely appreciate this guidance. “I acquired a new competency — “the competency of enjoyment.” I will carry this with me.
Thanks for your comment, Sean. The joy of learning.
What a lovely question to ask of yourself, Michael! I trust you were taught just as much by the students as you were teaching and that enriched the whole experience even more! Beautiful!! XO
So true, we learn much from our students. The classroom can be a dynamic interchange and a rich, nourishing experience for all. Thank you, Danielle, for yet another thought-provoking comment.
This is such an interesting question as it makes me consider all of the ways I orient myself in relationships. Most of my preparation is emotional, primarily because I have a faulty memory.
With old friends, I don’t prepare at all. If there is any preparation it is that I should be in a space to let my guard completely down. Preparation for relaxation.
With acquaintances, I try to draw on the emotions I felt when last we were together. This, touching on the memory issue, is because I may not remember their name or many facts about them, but I store their faces and how they made me feel when we looked at each other.
Preparation for teaching is an entirely different thing and could take up a page, but it’s something to consider that work is a kind of visitation as well.
Thank you, Sean, for your reflections here. I am particularly struck with your thoughts on “preparation for relaxation.”
Thank you Michael. That is one of the truest pleasures I can think of in these trying times. It is one of the most beautiful parts of friendship.
As my mobility has diminished and my ability to “do” for others has diminished with it, I am learning to embrace and value the sport of “lounging with Lori “ I have to offer. I am humbled and grateful for those who choose to receive it and the gifts for each of us therein.
Lovely! I love your thoughts, especially, on your visits with acquaintances, reminiscent of that Maya Angelou quote! And it's a quote I draw on often, when I am having visits - that's the perspective and heart frame I want to bring to visitors! XO
I love your idea of work as a visitation. Especially if that work is teaching!
I was a nurse in the community for many years. The unknown played a major part in initial visits. What was I walking into? Were their homes safe? What would be their state on mind when I arrived? Many unknown factors. A very real result of these visits, was the humbling effect they had on me. It’s a good reminder to be grateful for the abundance in my life.
Thank you, Lisa, for this nugget of insight: the unknown in a situation can have a humbling effect. And you express gratefulness for life’s abundance.
I focus on the person I'm talking with. What's their story? Their feelings? Their reactions? I usually leave astounded at life's many faces of joy and pain. Mostly joy.
Keith, Deep listening is your forte! Thanks.
When something unexpected arrives at my doorstep, I usually have to gather myself before I can do anything. Recently my Dad (90) had emergency surgery and was in the ICU. I had to drive 6 hours to be with him and help my mom. That gave me the time to compose myself and go over in my head all I wanted to share with him. But most importantly, I learned from this visit (besides bringing a phone charger!) was to listen, breathe, be present, breathe, give grace, and breathe. All of this gave me the gift of peace when he passed 5 days later. I am still breathing and now giving much grace to myself.
I am sorry for your recent loss Kathy...find something special that reminds you of your dad...hang it somewhere visible and be reminded of his presence, his gifts, and his grace he blessed you with over the years.
https://youtu.be/V40_IEXocC4?si=2aE44ySu8MqVxASH
I am a social worker and I’ve spent my career entering homes. No matter what that home looks like, how I feel about it, or where it is, I remind myself that it is their home. Same as mine. Everywhere is someone’s home.
Such an important perspective you bring to your work, Caitlin!
Every time I read the offering/letter/reading from the week’s Poetry Unbound, I find I fall down a kind of rabbit hole of looking up references I do not know. Today was first the reference to the Ignastian examen. I quickly peruse the article, a further, more in depth reading can wait for another day. Then it is to read the full text of Anne Etta Green’s “How to Visit the Personal Care Home”. That is read in its entirety until I am crying with its poignancy and truth.
Then the words “Preparation is the heart of survival.May it lead us somewhere better.”
It sounds almost like a prayer. And then, what was the question? How to prepare for what comes to you in your week? I keep an old school wall calendar on the door to the hallway in my apartment. So my week starts with a reminder of what and where I have agreed to go or do.
As for a list of wisdom, that is hard, isn’t it? I went to a wake for a woman who had been a friend of my mother’s. Before I went I thought about this person and what story(s) I could tell about her. I cherished every story or memory that people told me when my husband died. Stories and memories bring the person back to them in a form.
When I’ve gone for a planned visit to the ill or the bereaved, I tend to take food. Something that nourishes not just the body but the soul. Who feels like cooking when you are ill, or bereaved, or just plain sad? Something in a container that they don’t have to remember who brought it over and return.
I think so much of life is showing up for things, whatever the reason. Remembering what is happening in their lives, asking about it, giving them permission to share or unload, or vent.
I was with you in the rabbit hole this morning, Elaine. My goodness- “How to Visit the Personal Care Home” proved an intense but needed read on my end. I forwarded it to my sister who, in typical form responded, "Thanks a LOT, Padraig. That was depressing AF." LOL. She read it, though, so I'm calling it a win.
Your comments on visiting with the bereaved struck a deep chord as well. "So much of life is showing up for things." YES. Thank you for sharing♥.
LOL....Classic response to many a readings here "Thanks a LOT, Padraig. That was depressing AF"!!! Love the kind honesty here!!!
Yes, always make time to go to the funeral.
What a good reminder to prepare a story to share.
And food, always food.
Thanks for reading “How To,” Elaine. I agree with you that bringing food is such an important part of preparation. Mom herself would prepare a whole meal and then would delegate it to me and my father to bring it—the 1/2 a ham, the rolls, the chocolate cake (2 layer).
When I know I will have a difficult encounter, I usually try to write what I wish to say so that I do not say what I don't wish to say. I want to be clear on requests or proposals (even demands & boundaries) without getting carried away by emotion. I try to prepare and ask questions that I hope will bring understanding, as well as try to communicate my concern for finding common ground.
Wise advice! Thank you for sharing it. XO
Love the way you said what you said here. You seek to be clear and thoughtful in your communication - good stuff, Dawn!
I‘m a teacher, preparing to wrap up the year and dive into a full summer. I prepare for endings with reflections, mine and my students- what went well, what can be done differently, and always a celebration of what was, no matter how we feel about the work. We showed up, we tried as best as we could, we came together as a community. There is something rare and beautiful in that.
For summer, I am preparing for my son’s wedding to a lovely young woman, inside and out. I am packing for my roadtrip to Minnesota for their big day. They will have an ancestor’s table, those whom they have loved, but who are gone. I am packing photos for my son to share from our family, and look forward to seeing/ meeting his bride’s ancestors. I love how inclusive and grounding this will be for the celebration.
I then proceed to the West coast… a place I love as well, but will be trying to connect with a family member struggling with mental health and addiction. I am hopeful, but realistic. Will lean on my 12-step community and praying that way will come. I will seek solace on long beach walks to live the questions and pall of grief that addiction has on all who come in contact with it.
Depending on how that goes, I may wend my way to Texas, to meet with family and friends. More long walks, time with friends and horses. Soaking in the heat that I know but don’t miss. I look forward to attending Alanon and Quaker meetings there- where it feels the soul of Texas resides.
I feel blessed to be able to have a summer- something I have only recently been able to do. I love this time away from planning and the classroom- How my creativity and whimsy - joy returns. And I vow not to lose this feeling, make plans how to be true to this pledge. Try again at the start of a new school year.
Feel may connections to this post-
I too am in transition of classroom to summer…
I live in Minnesota
What a beautiful place to begin a union
Love the ancestor table..
sending love with you as you navigate the diverse landscape -
12 steps keep me in my side of the street while supporting those who have yet to find the path of living life on life’s terms
Peace!
Thank you, from the right side of the street. Happy summertime!
Relying on my 12 step practices and community is absolutely essential as I prepare to visit with family members I have not seen in a long while. All that I am learning in this program is a lifesaver an absolutely necessary for my healing and mental health.
All the best to you
Not only a summer, but what sounds like a rejuvenating summer. Your love for your family is palpable. 🥰
Best of luck with the family member who is struggling. They are blessed to have you as part of their journey.
Thank you- blessings to you
This question comes at a perfect time
How do I prepare for the visit…
My mom’s celebration of life .
It seems
straightforward. You find the photographs you send out the invites and and if you’re lucky as we were, you can cater the food.
But how do you prepare the heart?
The nine months of silence from a sister who asked for space
What do I say when our eyes meet?
The brother who hasn’t shed a tear since 1979
How do I share the grief?
The aunts and uncles who fell by the wayside as life kept interrupting
How do I reconnect?
These are my ponderings
…..
As I sit with this
The only answer back is
Love
Love
Oh my, yes. These encounters may be hard, but love, and grace.
Sometimes its the only answer but sometimes, too, it is hard to practice, in the face of heartbreak and loss.
Oftentimes, I spend a lot of time preparing for the known unknowns while swiftly rejecting the butterflies that show up in my stomach when my unruly thoughts wander to the possibility of unknown unknowns. As with many people, I am scared of what I cannot predict.
There's a lot online that implores '10 things not to say to a person with x illness' or 'the one thing you have to say to someone going off to college'. In my desperation to accompany people well, I've let these injunctions overwhelm me and snuff out my own in the moment intuition for how to show up for someone I love, or who I am just visiting for some reason. In the end, this has made the unknown unknowns all the more threatening.
I am trying, now, to visit by advice the author John Green received from his supervisor when he was a chaplain in training: "don't just do something, stand there." Oftentimes my nerves are on fire with the desire to do something, to fix something, to balance the energy in the room. But I have a sense that none of that is my highest and best use when I am accompanying someone. So I am doing my best to stand there, in the uncertainty of the situation and of the uncomfortable reality that I'll likely never be certain about the charge or magnitude of my impact on it.
Your words “when I am accompanying someone” speak volumes. It is the act of being with that matters so much. To see it this way is to go along for the ride. Very wise. … And I remember reading those words of advice John Greene recalls receiving in his wonderful nonfiction book The Anthropocene Reviewed. Thanks for reminding me.
What a beautifuo quote! I will carry this with me on my counselling work when I am tempted to "fix" something
Thank you, Sofia, for reminding us to trust our own intuition.