From Sedona to Boston...Powerful and Resilient

Awe-Inspiring, Powerful and Resilient...these were the words that came to me as I drank in the breathtaking beauty of Sedona, Arizona on April 12.   Less than 72 hours later, on April 15, I was back in Boston and blindsided by the emotional rollercoaster that ensued following the Boston Marathon bombings.

As the new normal has begun to settle into Boston, as it did in the weeks and months following 9/11 in New York City, those same words that resonated with me as I scanned the magnificent vistas in Sedona, surface as I continue to witness the amazing ability of the human spirit to bounce back from adversity; tenacious and strong...Awe-inspiring, Powerful and Resilient. 

Musings on Life, Death and Springtime

This is the season when the ground swells with new life, trees burst forth with magnificent blossoms and the earth seems to come alive once more.  I am struck by this dichotomy more acutely than usual this year: As I breathe in the sweet fragrances of April, I am also preparing for a journey to Arizona to help my mother prepare for the burial of my stepfather.  The yin and yang of life -- birth and death, always teetering in some sort of cosmic balance.  

I often wonder; would the spring be less exciting and glorious if we never had winter?  Do we somehow need the reminder of life's fragility and impermanence to treasure the innate beauty of the present moment?  

And so, as the musing continues, I am filled with gratitude for the wake-up call I receive each spring when I am renewed with awe and wonder.

Do We Need to Lose Things Before We Can Find Kindess?

I was pleased to learn that the award winning poet, Naomi Shihab Nye is the 2013 Robert Creeley Foundation Winner and will be presenting a reading of her poems in the Boston area (Acton-Boxborough High School, Acton MA) on Wednesday, March 6 at 7:30 PM.

One of her poems, Kindness, is a particular favorite of mine.  I was first introduced to this poem when I was training to teach mindfulness at the Center of Mindfulness in Medicine, Health Care, and Society. What struck me when I first read the poem and as I re-read the poem again and again is the notion that experiencing loss opens one to the ability to give and receive kindness more wholly.

What do you think? I would love to hear your thoughts and comments...do we need to lose things before we can find kindness?

Kindness
(Naomi Shihab Nye)

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and
purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.

Keep Calm and Carry On

Keep Calm and Carry On...have you been noticing that ubiquitous phrase and simple poster as much as I have lately? It seems to be everywhere! It has morphed into all forms of iterations as evidenced on Pinterest boards and Esty.com.  I was curious about where this saying came from and was surprised to learn that it first appeared in war torn England during the devastation of World War II as one of three propaganda posters that were distributed and hung in prominent public places. In fact it was meant to build resiliency among the people who had lost so much and were starting to rebuild their lives from the rubble. 

Throughout our lives, we will rebuild and reconstruct our lives through transitions, changes, joys and sorrows. Perhaps this simple phrase on the red and white poster can instill within us the same sense of resiliency as it did more than half a century ago. May we all...Keep Calm and Carry On



Great video of the history of the WWII poster: Keep Calm and Carry On

Healing the Broken Hearts in Newtown

As news of the horrific events in Newtown, Connecticut unfolded on Friday and over the weekend; 20 first grade students and 6 school staff murdered by a mentally ill young adult, my thoughts turned to those left behind...the families, friends and classmates. How will they begin to heal after suffering such unimaginable pain? I don't have any profound answers; I am without adequate words to comfort or explain such loss. After the memorial services have been held and the news media have moved on to new disasters, how will the broken hearts in Newtown begin to heal?

As one who has experienced every parent's worst nightmare, the loss of a child (my son Nick), perhaps this reflection, which I shared at last year's Pediatric Memorial Service at Massachusetts General Hospital and have also shared previously on this blog, may provide some hope for those beginning their journey of healing.

Sunday, November 6, 2011 ~ Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, MA

"The only whole heart is a broken one...it lets the light in" ~Rabbi David Wolpe

"There are few choices afforded to us in how to survive the loss of a child.  Well meaning friends, relatives and professionals may advise us "not to let this tragedy define who we are", but I will have to respectfully disagree with this advice.  The tragedy of losing a child is a life changing event like no other: We are confronted with not only the loss of one we deeply love, but with the loss of our future as we had envisioned.  We are shaken to the very core of our existence and essence. Yes, this event will define us for the rest of our lives whether we want it to or not.

When our loss is new, it is unfamiliar and terrifying in its intensity.  I vividly remember waking up the morning after Nick died and being absolutely amazed and incredulous that the sun had the audacity to rise, that the school bus continued on its scheduled route down my street, that  people went to the grocery store, commuted to work and  that the mail was delivered...the outside world continued to function as if nothing had occurred.  It was a surreal scene.  Because for me it was as if a nuclear bomb had been detonated.  The world as I had known it had been destroyed with the death of my son.  My world now was defined as a new normal even though I wished desperately for the old normal to return. 

Rabbi and author, David Wolpe, aptly describes the feeling of new loss in this way  "When we experience a loss, a hole opens up inside of us. It is almost as if the loss itself plows right through us, leaving us gasping for air" and we bleed profusely through this opening. During the early days, months and years after our loss, we focus on how to slow down this  hemorrhage, this continuous emptying of grief.  But then something begins to change, very, very slowly; the immediate agony subsides. Around the edges of that opening, things begin to heal and scar tissue begins to form.  This is the point at which we can choose how the tragedy of our loss will continue to define our lives...we can choose  to allow the scar tissue to continue to form and thicken, closing the hole within us -- hardening us to the world with the unfairness and unjustness of our loss; or we can choose to allow the hole to remain open, allowing not only the stream of grief to flow out but permitting light, hope and meaning to enter.  I have chosen to allow the hole within me to remain open and this is one of the gifts my son has given me. 

Rabbi Wolpe suggests that "The only whole heart is a broken one, it lets the light shine in."  Allowing the hole to remain open, has allowed me to be a more compassionate person to others and myself, perhaps a bit less judgmental and more empathetic than I was in my old normal.  Keeping the hole open has made it easier for me to prioritize what really matters and not what I think should matter -- it now OK to say no to mundane tasks and yes to things that feed my soul.  I do not fear many things now -- after all the worst has happened to me, so what do I have to be fearful of now?  And most important, by keeping the hole open, continuing to allow the grief out and the light in, I am able to hold Nick and the meaning of his life close.  

So, perhaps I have what the professionals call a "maladaptive coping strategy", but I embrace the notion that yes, I have let this tragedy define me in a way I never imaged would be possible; by allowing my heart to remain broken, and open, it is, in my new normal, whole once more."

.

Let's Start a Revolution: Engage with Grace

For several years I have been pleased to donate my blog space over the Thanksgiving weekend to a wonderful project: Engage with Grace. For me end of life discussions are not an abstract concept, as I have journeyed with both family members and clients down this path.  Talking about end of life is not easy, but it does not need to be the taboo subject that it is currently in our culture.  If in less than a generation we have shifted our cultural norms on other topics that certainly were never discussed in the past: cancer, erectile dysfunction, birth control, and feminine hygiene products then certainly we can start a revolution to normalize the discussion about end of life decision making!

This year I am expanding my participation in Engage with Grace to include the entire holiday season, not only Thanksgiving weekend.  Let's begin changing the culture by making it a priority to ask and listen to your friends and family about end of life wishes before we ring in 2013.

Engage With Grace This Holiday Season

"One of our favorite things we ever heard Steve Jobs say is… ‘If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right.’

We love it for three reasons:

1. It reminds all of us that living with intention is one of the most important things we can do.
2. It reminds all of us that one day will be our last. 
3. It’s a great example of how Steve Jobs just made most things (even things about death – even things he was quoting) sound better.

Most of us do pretty well with the living with intention part – but the dying thing? Not so much. 

And maybe that doesn’t bother us so much as individuals because heck, we’re not going to die anyway!! That’s one of those things that happens to other people….

Then one day it does – happen to someone else.  But it’s someone that we love.  And everything about our perspective on end of life changes.  

If you haven’t personally had the experience of seeing or helping a loved one navigate the incredible complexities of terminal illness, then just ask someone who has.  Chances are nearly 3 out of 4 of those stories will be bad ones – involving actions and decisions that were at odds with that person’s values.  And the worst part about it? Most of this mess is unintentional – no one is deliberately trying to make anyone else suffer – it’s just that few of us are taking the time to figure out our own preferences for what we’d like when our time is near, making sure those preferences are known, and appointing someone to advocate on our behalf. 

The holidays are a time for gathering, for communing, and for thinking hard together with friends and family about the things that matter.  Here’s the crazy thing - in the wake of one of the most intense political seasons in recent history, one of the safest topics to debate around the table this year might just be that one last taboo: end of life planning. And you know what? It’s also one of the most important. 

Here’s one debate nobody wants to have – deciding on behalf of a loved one how to handle tough decisions at the end of their life. And there is no greater gift you can give your loved ones than saving them from that agony.  So let’s take that off the table right now, this weekend.  Know what you want at the end of your life; know the preferences of your loved ones.    Print out this one slide with just these five questions on it. 

Have the conversation with your family.  Now.  Not a year from now, not when you or a loved one are diagnosed with something, not at the bedside of a mother or a father or a sibling or a life-long partner…but NOW.  Have it this holiday season when you are gathered together as a family, with your loved ones.  Why? Because now is when it matters. This is the conversation to have when you don’t need to have it.  And, believe it or not, when it’s a hypothetical conversation – you might even find it fascinating.   We find sharing almost everything else about ourselves fascinating – why not this, too?   And then, one day, when the real stuff happens?  You’ll be ready. 

Doing end of life better is important for all of us.  And the good news is that for all the squeamishness we think people have around this issue, the tide is changing, and more and more people are realizing that as a country dedicated to living with great intention – we need to apply that same sense of purpose and honor to how we die. 

One day, Rosa Parks refused to move her seat on a bus in Montgomery County, Alabama.  Others had before. Why was this day different?  Because her story tapped into a million other stories that together sparked a revolution that changed the course of history.

Each of us has a story – it has a beginning, a middle, and an end.  We work so hard to design a beautiful life – spend the time to design a beautiful end, too.  Know the answers to just these five questions for yourself, and for your loved ones.  Commit to advocating for each other.  Then pass it on." 

Let's start a revolution: Engage with Grace
 

Sustainable Resilience

Sustainable resilience...I love the concept of being able to bounce back from challenges and adversity time and time again. But often it is the little things that wear away our resilience, like water wears away stone: the traffic jam on the way to work, the parking space that disappears before our eyes, running late and realizing that you left your phone on the kitchen counter, etc etc. Slowly, invisibly wearing us down drop by drop. One way to help ourselves create a more sustainable resilience is to cultivate mindful moments amidst the trials and tribulations. And so it was for me today...finding incredible beauty on my long walk from a very remote parking space at UMass Boston. These photos were taken on the UMass Boston campus near the Massachusetts Archives Building, sights I never would have seen if I had snagged that first close parking spot.