Equanimity

Equanimity is a state of emotional stability and composure which is achieved by accepting the reality of life’s imperfections and embracing them. It is a key aspect of personal resilience, as it allows us to remain calm, composed, and balanced in the face of adversity and challenge. Equanimity helps us to remain focused on the task at hand, while preventing us from becoming overwhelmed by our emotions or reacting impulsively. Developing equanimity is an important part of cultivating personal resilience, as it helps us to maintain our composure in difficult situations and to respond appropriately.

One of the most important ways to develop equanimity is to practice mindfulness. Mindfulness involves paying attention to our present experience without judgment or attachment. It is a form of meditation which encourages us to be aware of our thoughts, feelings, and physical sensations without trying to change them or make them go away. Practicing mindfulness can help us to stay grounded in the present moment and to observe our emotions without becoming overwhelmed by them. This allows us to maintain our composure in difficult situations and to respond to life’s challenges in a balanced and wise way.

Another important way to cultivate equanimity is to practice gratitude. Gratitude involves being thankful for the things
we have and recognizing how much we have to be thankful for. It helps us to stay in touch with the good things in life, even in the face of difficult or challenging circumstances. Practicing gratitude can help us to remain focused on the positive and to see the world in a more balanced and optimistic way. It can also help us to better appreciate the good things in life and to remain composed in the face of adversity.

Finally, it is important to develop a self-care practice. Self-care involves taking care of our physical, mental, and emotional needs in order to promote wellbeing. This includes practices such as getting enough sleep, eating healthy, exercising, meditating, and spending time with friends and family. Self-care helps us to stay grounded and to take care of our physical and mental health. It also helps us to be more in tune with our emotions and to respond appropriately to life’s challenges. Another aspect of self-care is diversifying one's practice; self-care often focuses on rest and relaxation, those two elements are often provided in very different activities respectively.  

Overall, developing equanimity is an important part of cultivating personal resilience. Practicing mindfulness, gratitude, and self-care can help us to remain calm, composed, and balanced in the face of adversity and to respond appropriately to life’s challenges. This allows us to stay focused on the task at hand and to take care of our physical and mental health. By developing equanimity, we can be better equipped to handle life’s challenges and to remain resilient in the face of adversity.

Job’s Breath and The Ocean of Mourning

“You are made of Oceans,

You will grow in waves”

~ Jinan Safko

Ancient Greeks began their tragedies in the middle, because despair is disorienting. In Media Res, they call it. And so to sing of Job and all his woes is to begin where the divine voice speaks: “Who darkens my counsel with ignorant words?” The Holy One cries; “Where were you, when I laid the foundations of the earth?..When I determined the boundaries of the oceans: thus far you shall come, and no farther.” The Almighty reminisced, as Job breathed. Job is made of oceans; his breathing in and out, the tide of existence. Job sits alone in silence, like the bottom layer of a Rothko painting. Utter silence containing pain and ignorance, desire and disdain, and for what? The question that has haunted Job’s search for meaning and resilience.

    Job was once breathing easy. His labored sighs now weighed down with mourning, and the realization that his breath is all he has left. In and out, like a steady chop of water against sand. “Blameless,” thinks Job. “And upright.” The refrain of what brought this upon Job, his aspiration and accolade. Job was a man who paid attention to details in a sacred way. He always made arrangements and ensured the prosperity of his people. As a prophet, He upheld the righteousness of the Most High and as a priest, to his family, he walked the path of the divine messenger. Intercession and reconciliation and community organization were the pillars of Job’s temple.

    But the Most High and the Adversary made a wager, you may have heard about it. “Take away the prosperity,” claimed the Adversary, “and the righteous person will despise the Most High.” And so Job fell from grace, his prosperity torn apart in an unthinkable and unforgettable moment when three messengers arrived. Like three lightning bolts to Job’s gut.

The barbarians have struck our tribe.

The fires have burned us up.

Even the invisible wind has laid us to waste.

    Job’s estate and family were no more.

    In grief, Job laid down his head and upheld his integrity with the name of the Most High. The resilience of unknowing through tears of inconsolable sorrow. Though he refused to budge, his body itself gave way. Job’s grief was poured out through the festering sores on his body, and through the abandonment of his partner, and he was found by his last remaining friends, alone, and silent.

    It is anguish that Job expressed when he spoke forth the now famous curse. “Cursed is the day of my birth!” That seemed the only solution Job could now imagine. Amidst the unrelenting why of cosmic frustration, Job asked “what does it mean to be blameless and upright?” If there is no defense or relief against the onslaught of suffering. Perhaps it is simply to breathe, into resiliency in the mind and heart, and oceans full of outer chaos and inner turmoil where only breath can lead the way.

The longsuffering of Job does not need to teach us about God, or Satan, or Theodicy. Job’s experience is what it means to “go on”.

To draw in a breath full of salty tears and blood stained dust.

To go blind or mad with rage of pure being in a cosmic void.

To hold one’s breath for it is all that one has left.

Job was reminded that we are sand and breath in an infinite ocean, in which doing and being matter, against unassailable logic and pain. Job’s breath is the vapor of death; life fading in or out in a moment. It is the breath of those three messengers, the breath of all curses, and the breath of pure silence; the breath that every person draws as their next, though they suffer without yet knowing justice.

    Job learned that it is despair that disorients us, and we start in the middle in hopes of ending back at something like the beginning. A great warrior said “for us, there is no spring; just the wind that smells fresh before the storm.” And like seeds watered in a deluge, we quickly run out of room and comfort and the known, and must grow toward soaring winds in the eternal sky above.

Pulpits, street corners, and other wastelands of the heart: Loneliness

I am not a person who fears being alone or who is given to loneliness. In the days before I was married I talked to many people who referenced loneliness as a reason to start a family by finding a partner. I rejected this whole concept. There were a lot of other forces driving my life, but I was determined that loneliness would not be one of them. Then came the year 2007. I had just lived overseas for a year and was coming back. I felt alone. I had reverse culture shock. I felt lost and unhappy. I also needed work that was meaningful. After a season, I secured a job as a street advocate, taking causes like sponsoring children in developing countries to the street corners and trying to get people to sign up. I am not a salesman, and am terrible at convincing people of things. I spent my first and only day of this work on a street corner in Seattle talking to strangers and trying to get them to sign up. I was with a team but it was clear to me after a few hours that I was not natural at this, and the manager did not look happy with me. I didn’t realize that if I didn’t make a sale, I would be let go. At one point, my manager had me walk to a different street corner far from the team. It was not good. Standing on that corner, feeling invisible and profoundly disappointed, I remember seeing my sad face in the reflection of a department store window and feeling a pang of loneliness like a steel spike, shoot through my whole body. The last part of the day was being told I didn’t have what it takes and angrily storming out, and receiving a sum of $64 for the day.

 

            Several months went by and I had secured a job as a youth pastor for college and young adults. I had worked with high school students and had a degree in religion, but this was a new experience to be one of “the guys” on Sunday morning. Our church was seen as a teaching and preaching church, so my Sunday group consisted of messages and discussion around those messages. Honestly looking back, this was a waste of my times and everyone else's. I should have realized this when after about two months, I found myself hoping that no one would show up on Sunday morning. This actually happened once and my relief was quickly stolen by the volunteer staff expressing discontent. Only now in reflecting do I remember one of the first “Behind the pulpit” lessons I taught when as I stood there speaking, that same steel spike of loneliness shot through me.

 

            From pulpits to street corners, I hadn’t connected these two events, but these two singular experiences are how I know loneliness. They take place in areas surrounded by people, in which I have a message that I want others to hear. There is yearning and longing, and the fear of never being fulfilled. This is how I conceive a lonely place. I felt that same spike for the first time last week as I presented in peer group for the first time. I wasn’t presenting anything noteworthy, and the feedback I got was benign, until we cut right into the heart of who I was. It is a lonely place you enter into when you present who you are for critique. Perhaps that was the taste I got on that street corner or in that beige Sunday school room. But stepping into that CPE arena was drinking from the source, the path of deeper inter-connectedness is the path of truly knowing loneliness

Not the End, but And

Greetings Dear Readers,

I'm a graduate of the program I started a year ago at UCSF Medical Center. I have done 4 units of Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) in addition to my first unit from 2011 bringing my total to 5. (each unit is equivalent to 400 combined educational and clinical hours) So, yeah! While this isn't a formal degree, it is easily the most challenging and demanding work I've done educationally or vocationally, and I feel a mixture of pride, happiness, stillness and also feel a little spent, like I'm staggering across this threshold finish line. But if it doesn't change you in painful ways, it isn't learning. One of my training NCO's at the Army Chaplain Schoolhouse put it this way: "There are only two ways people learn: repetition and blunt force trauma". This CPE program has been a mixture of both, but the results have been transformative for my entire cohort of 15 chaplains at two hospitals. Not only have we grown up together in this respect, but I have a profound and deep connection to them, it's been a total revelation of the phrase "labor of love".

I'm also feeling a surreal amount of good fortune. This year has been stressful and challenging, and I've also been anxious about 'what's next', like we humans do. being present in the moment doesn't come naturally. All the diligence and desire on my part has come to fruition as I've been welcomed to join the Faculty of the program I just completed as a student. I will be a Certified Educator Student, and continue my studies in how to be a supervisor of a CPE program. This is basically the same principles of learning, but cranked to 11 for 2-4 years. Then when I graduate again I'll be a CPE supervisor.

Maybe that's more detail than is necessary, but basically, I'm going to be a learner and practitioner of spiritual care for (hopefully) the rest of my life, and hopefully spending a lot of that time helping other chaplains learn and grow. This is another big step in the process of big steps.

Also, we moved and adopted a dog the same weekend I found out I got the job. Crazy, right? We are staying in SF for a while!

We love our new place, we love little Rocky; Cristin started working more, still part time and is thriving despite the hardship so far, and I'm super proud of her. I recognize that I wouldn't have made it through the program without her combined support and challenge.

In some ways it feels like it has been a long road and we've experienced so much in a single year. But the road is long before us, and full of twists and turns. This feels like only the beginning.

Finish Line bound: new beginnings

An update of sorts is due in these parts.

I'm in full on career mode as I am trying to figure out a landing plan for September. I'm in the interview process to stay on and work at UCSF in my pretty much dream position (As far as educational programs go) and it would mean staying in SF for at least 3 more years.

The concepts of all this personal growth and progress, competency and documenting it, is hard for me to fathom. I just want to withdraw. But the art of movement from 9 to 3 (enneagram) is in being seen, and being seen is hard. I get stressed out around interviews, struggling to feel authentic. But, this is the trajectory, the reality of becoming who one is meant to be.

Cristin is also excited about employment. She continues to deal with her condition, but is taking a chance on working a couple days a week. The on-boarding is going to take a couple months, so we will see how things shake out.

We've had a crazy few months since the last update, we've traveled, had fun, struggled, moved, and I continue to learn and grow through my program. The end is in sight, as we have 6 more weeks of education and then another 5 weeks of work after that. I'm fully counting down and feeling so much remorse about saying goodbye and moving on.

It feels like we are packing years into this one year. It's important to slow down and take stock, and I hope we can do that every so often.

Old Technology and Lost Art

The art of craft is the revival of so called hipsters, obsession with analogue, hand-powered, hand-made timeless technology has taken over an entire market space. Even the hand-written notes I took in a notebook to draft this post are a throwback to other ways; the typewriter an intermediary between the ancient and modern world.

The times/periods mentality is at work: The archaeological view of history and how our objects define and shape us. Perhaps that is the secret of old technology, that within it is a lost art. We look at the achievements of ancient man and the wonders of the world; we realize in their old techology are wonders we cannot ourselves produce in the way they produced them. When we look at the materialist view of human history, we are face to face with mystery; with uncertainty of who we are, or how we got here based on who we were.

There is a discovery of ourselves in our experience of old technology when we experience where we have come from. We use iphones because of the renaissance, we believe in justice because of the Resurrection, and we seek glory because have always sought glory. Humans have invented of changing society and themselves in order to feel the becoming of something new -- something other; something higher. We seek a way to to connect to the divine.

Genesis 2-11 takes us on this journey, the journey of naming, manipulating, killing, enhancing, gathering and enslaving, all in hopes of reaching heaven/God/another world. We seek technology to transcend, but the transcendence itself comes not in who we will be or who we were, but simply in who we are -- coming into the moment. Ancient technology, ancient practices reflect on human existence without distraction.

When we go back we find that the need of the human mind/heart/soul/will is the eternal existence of momentary presence. Our past and future are one in holistic harmony and connection to all things.

Where We Are Now

We are well past half way of this year of CPE. I've learned a lot already, and it felt difficult to even articulate my new learning goals. I am at the overwhelmed by everything and the nothingness of all things apart from now. I hope it's just a phase.

My time visiting patients has been amazing, there are already too many stories to remember or recount and for secure information reasons, I won't be recounting them here, but there are inspirations. It really is true how profoundly everything around us affects us. People don't come from nowhere. There's a million neurons behind every troubled brow. And people will always need kindness, light, and love in order to make meaning out of suffering.

On a personal note, we're moving! we have had disruptive and disrespectful neighbors for almost 5 months now, and it is painful, but we finally found a new place. It was a really great experience to have gone through all the styles of grief towards them, and to have been strong, assertive and respectful in the face of people I would rather not be around.

Speaking of punching ignorant people in the face, the other day I had a weird encounter with another person. It was an uber driver in an SUV, we had both started driving down the same narrow road towards each other. He pulled slightly to the side but the opening wasn't big enough for me to sneak by. I sat and waited until he got out of his vehicle and aggressively tried to assert that I should either go through the opening, or pull over/back up myself to let him pass. I felt this eerie sense of self-control come over me, and repeated that he needed to calm down, get back in his vehicle and back up in order for me to pass as I had the right of way. He called me names and then finally relented. It was infuriating, and strange, but I felt like there was no reason to do anything but be patiently assertive and insistent. It was out of body.

I'm not one for nostalgia and I don't think the world is worse off now than is used to be. It's always been messed up, dark and twisted. I led a sheltered life in my youth, and I'm feeling a bit fragile these days, but I feel strengthened by kindness and community, by loving relationships, and by my faith and personal practice.

I guess by way of update, Cristin is managing to get along. She's been disturbed of sleep and had more pain when she doesn't sleep. We are hopeful for a new living arrangement. We are very excited to teach a workshop on Grief and Community next month. It's been a lot of work, but very rewarding, and we love working together. We also reflect on how thankful we are to be in San Francisco. This chapter may not last much longer, but we truly enjoy this ridiculously expensive city. My parents came to visit this month and it was a lot of fun. Meeting up with our people who come to visit us here in the city is the best excuse to go out and try new places, or show off the things we love about San Francisco.

Next steps in life, I am focused on what will happen after residency. I hope to start a program that will certify me as an educator to teach the CPE program that I'm currently a student. If not, I hope to find a chaplain job, and as a last ditch, I could try to do a second year of CPE, but that won't really pay anything more than now, which is not much. Wish me luck in getting accepted to these things and then deciding.

That's it for now!

The Obsolescence of Sport

I've always played sports, watched sports, talked about sports, I've been a "sports guy" for most of my life. As I write this I realize I went through a very similiar process with video games. I was so into them, and now, I feel not only not into them, but repulsed by them, and also compelled to not be into them. These are all forms of simulation.

Sport is a simulation of conflict, it is a facsimile of human condition of adversary.  Sport is a reflection of the literal meaning of Satan. And with the spirit, there is no conflict. the spirit is harmony, cooperation. Light and Dark are not dichotomous, Satan and Jesus are not equals. Sport is a platonic duality that enhances human tribalism and gives people a meaningless outlet to their worst impulses.

This alternate reality is a form of escape, a way to avoid the reality of our lives. IT is enhanced by the media coverage and lifestyle coverage of sport and athletes. This escapism is related to our human nature as worshipers. The number of people I've talked to who have pointed to a stadium, or television room where sport is consumed as their "church". I find this troubling not only in the approach to sport, but also in the approach to the meaning of church.

I the past I've tried to create spiritual practice, awareness and community engagement around sports teams and I feel bad now. Human beings need to move, and so sport is a good replacement for that. But any other manipulation is actually antithetical to the kingdom of God. The kingdom of God is where people who perpetually lose sports wear the victors crown along with the victors. The kingdom where conflict has no meaning, and where tribe has no place.

this is a personal post for me, sports are obsolete in there primitiveness. We participate in them to the detriment of our society as a whole. Some may argue for cultural relevance, powerful lessons of team building, and tradition, community knittedness, and a bunch of other myths. These ideas are laced into the idea of the tribe and the adversary, of the competitor and the rival. This dualism doesn't stand up.

We need not approve or dissaprove of a cultural practice for others. There sports obsessed are just as loved by God as any other. But rather, my challenge is to incarnate,  and enact values of Grace, whcih does not obsess over winners, losers, allegiances, events or statistics, nor the approval or disaaproval there of.

Disable distraction.

Hello 2018

Here's an update of sorts, for all you people who are following our journey. The end of 2017 also marks the 1/3 mark for my CPE Residency year. It feels altogether to be dragging on and disappearing. Such is life, looking both forward and backward. I find myself holding a lot of tension, which maybe is the norm for getting older and stuff, but, I feel this liminal space is creating a desire to savor and soak it in, and also to get it over with so I can get a job and restore some stability to our life.

The last couple months have been good and difficult. We most recently had a minor issue when our car was towed. It is okay, but it does push our finances for the month to the limit, so that is frustrating. In further investigation it seems like a city strategy for a cash grab, so we are challenging it. Urban perils. We are still learning a  little more every day what it means to live in the city.

We really enjoyed some time with our Riverside Community and Cristin's family over the winter holidays and then a getaway to Palm Springs. The top highlights for me were celebrating Cristin's birthday! She is amazing, one of a kind and lovely. I'm so lucky to have her in my life. Also taking a day up the Arial tramway to the Mt. San Jacinto recreation area. It's so peaceful, beautiful, full of wonder, trees, views (you can see all the way to the Salton Sea). The whole time there was a lot of fun, good food and drink, Christmas spirit.

I had to come back to SF early to be on call Dec 29th and it was actually quite peaceful in the hospital, not a single call in 24 hours (Which is an oddity, I probably won't have another on call night that quiet). After that, Cristin returned and we celebrated New Years in the city! it was a pretty amazing night. Although change is constant, I really like our cultural observation of the new year and the many changes it may bring. It is important to feel whelmed by a sense of potential.

Honestly it has been a slow start to 2018; As much fun as was had over the holiday, it really took me out of my routine, and that has left me feeling a little slow to get back into it. Momentum can be a huge aspect of my life, and I am still getting in touch with the starting mechanism for life's challenges. My program and fellow chaplains have been a distinct blessing in this regard, listening and encouraging as we are all finding new sources for endurance, rest and faithful service.

Speaking of challenges, our peaceful apartment has hit a snag as our new neighbors have turned out to be college-age frat party types. Our walls are thin, and they are pretty inconsiderate, despite many neighborly engagements. As it continues to get worse, we are doing all that we can, going through the landlord and so forth. While it has provided a lot of learning in duality and tension for me (trying to empathize with the enemy, etc), Cristin mainly just loses sleep and is unjustly afflicted. If you think of us, pray for us in this regard; moving away and breaking the lease would be costly and damaging; in the same breath, it seems like a long 8 months ahead with the routine disruption, so we will continue to take action until our choices become more clear.

Cristin is staying busy, we've found a new MD that is very empathetic and she continues to learn and grow in her journey with her PT. She's thoroughly enjoying her discipleship group, making connections with folks, continues to seek direction and healing.

Fun things on the Horizon include a conference I was accepted to attend! in February I'll be going to Washington DC for a conference about Diversity and Spiritual Care; I'm very stoked, but also a little bummed as it's my first time going to DC and there'll be no time for tourism. 2 weeks after that will be the official end of the 2nd unit, and halfway mark for the program (madness!). Cristin will be going on her own getaway while I'm at the conference, participating in a contemplative spiritual retreat through our SF Church, 1st Mennonite. We will both come back together with greater learning to share with one another and our communities.

That's about it, Happy New Year! Happy MLK Day! Hopefully we will update again before Lincoln's birthday!

No Teacher's Edition

For several months in 2011 I worked as a substitute teacher in Louisiana public and charter schools in New Orleans and the surrounding metro area. It was difficult to say the least. I actually wrote on my resume that I worked in the "toughest schools" and it was no joke. One day the students actually revolted and bum rushed out 10 minutes before the bell rang. Another teacher came in to ask me if I was okay. I was not.

It wasn't all gloom and doom; some of my favorite experiences came in arts and humanities classes where students could do their work unsupervised, welcoming conversation. I also enjoyed the younger, unspoiled classes, and I have to say that substitute teaching 1st grade was really fun. I had a drill sergeant demeanor and those kids got in line, and were also very sweet and fun. I also knew the material, which made it easier to feel comfortable (unlike the time I had to sub for AP Math class, I haven't thought about that stuff in a loooong time, and was little help to the honor students).

One thing that troubled me and still does to this day was in teaching the first grade lesson plan for the day which included spelling and writing, reading, coloring, and basic arithmetic. The dismay came at the presence of a teacher's edition. For first grade. The basic arithmetic answers spelled out, answers in a different font and color. Who is teaching this class?

I think of this now because my work place is an educational environment. I work in a teaching hospital, my supervisors official titles are "Educator", and I am here to demonstrate learning. But unlike even our earliest formal learning, apparently, there is no teacher's edition, there are no easy answers. Sometimes there are no answers at all. I get asked why suffering happens, and even if the words are unspoken, I see the question on their faces. I often say, "That's a tough question"...or "I wish I could answer that"...There is a sacred dialogue with those who suffer, or who's loved ones suffer, and it has little to do with me telling them why or how I think this is possible and unpacking years of philosophy in a cold monotone.

But even if there were a teacher's edition, a magic book with all the answers filled in for us (spoiler alert, the Bible  does not have all the answers, nor does any other sacred text),  it would not be satisfying. I believe that what is meant by asking the questions is not the wish for an easy or simple answer, like we received in first grade. It is the desire to struggle with someone. It is the desire to know that the search for meaning, though veiled, is not fruitless in and of itself, and that we are not alone in it. It is our way of wrestling with our own despair and of finding hope in the relentless uncertainty of life. Any platitude is just a form of bargaining with our grief, trying to tell ourselves we don't need to feel the feelings we feel when we suffer, or witness suffering.

What our "teacher's edition" does offer is that simple hope in the midst of the difficult journey. We might not know why we experience things, or why we feel the way we do about our experiences, but it is okay for us to be fully human in the midst of the catastrophic and the heart-rending. There is reassurance that we are part of a greater mystery, and that in the trillions of lives played out in our planets history, many have felt as we do, and that in our shared experiences and natures we are truly one and the same.  We are not alone, and life will go on. God have mercy, Christ have mercy, God have mercy. For everyone. May we be here and now, for one another, and trust that life will go on.

Black Dog Days Trilogy

I went to a writing workshop last week, it was super cool, I learned a lot from some amazing authors and I feel more determined than ever. Part of the writing there was to write something from the perspective of someone who has depression. I wrote 3 pieces! all based off the phrase "black dog days" which is what I think of when I think of a day that is particularly difficult because of depression.

here they are!

1.

Wendy Wonder

Black dog days under a [blackhole sun]

And wonder. Not the good kind.

Wonder where my light has gone,

Wonder about where my world

And all it’s hopes and possibilities have gone

Wonder how much farther down I will go, before

I try again.

Wonder why it didn’t work the first time, who called 911, how it took so long but Ii survived?

Wonder why ther’es so many questions and no answers,

Wonder why all these doctors and nurses look at me

That way.

Will anyone tell me how to get out of this suffocating pain???

I used to breathe, deeply, fully, not it feels like all I can do is

Hold it.

And hope the exhale doesn’t come.

I wonder.

Just tell me it will be ok and leave me alone.

2.

In the Dark

The Black Dog Days feel like walking away from a car wreck: You are alive, but you are also kind of fucked. Maybe life shouldn’t be this way, maybe life shouldn’t be like this. Maye life shouldn’t be. You wonder about all the days you felt so great, deconstruct them, catalogue their anatomy, like some extinct species barely remembered. A decisive action would be nice. A swift and just redemptive swing of some mystical scepter that would shatter all the lies and fear. You catch yourself wishing for unicorn tears, for myths and fairy rhymes. You are trapped here in the dark, and no one is coming to save you. The person who put you here is you. Maybe darkness can match the inside of your eyes and you won’t be able to tell the difference between waking and sleeping, living and dying.

3.

Dualities

Black and Tan like the new moon, subtle and slow

Dancing in slow motion like you’ve had one too many

And gently, like a fog, leading blindly to certain doom

Without sight or speech or illusions of certainty

Dog and Pony shows that distract us from

The real, from the sick and sad desert of the

Darkest moon shining down

The struggle of light and dark and human souls

Places our every morning and every evening on the horizon

Days and Nights an obvious nod to the routine,

The discipline of which we are not a part

And when we descend, the nights and days are what drive us

Into the floorboards of our own disgrace and destruction.

Music Snippet

I was listening to a podcast in which Henry Rollins stated that one of his personal disciplines and things that brings him joy is to listen to music. He listens to 3 albums minimum daily. I also recently found the joy of BandCamp App. I've been listening to a lot of music in this way and find it really great to share this tip. Listening to music in album format is a lost art. We do a lot of singles, playlists, dependence on the radio. But a album says something. It gives a narrative. It has a flow. Sometimes it is disappointing, because it is two great singles and a bunch of crap.

Listen to more albums!

Glorious!

In the soul...

I recently officiated a wedding for dear friends, and they unloaded the most beautiful and strong vows I've ever heard in a wedding.

The groom shared a story about giving away the key to his heart to the Bride. The metaphor really struck me the way he said it:

"a man’s soul is like a building full of rooms. And that through his life he fills those rooms with everything that makes him who he is. Some of the rooms he lets anyone into, He shows them around and shares that part of his soul with them. Other rooms are more private, and are only shown to the few people he is closest to. And some rooms he never shares with anyone. Rooms with secrets and truths so private, that the door is permanently locked." 

This metaphor holds up over, and it beautiful. The messy part is of course that there are some rooms that no one wants to go into. Dangerous and scary rooms. Rooms where we store the stuff no one wants. I'm not even talking about misbehavin': The other day I was in the hospital and Bob the Eucharistic Minister walked by. I shouted a greeting and asked how he was doing. He shared with me about his sense of self care and that he was feeling good when he was able to work out every day.

He elaborated, and told me something profound: "When you visit with people who are in pain and who are suffering, you carry that in your soul, and you need to care for yourself."

And so, mashing these two metaphors together, there is a room in your soul for suffering. Some people have filled up the room, and there's nowhere to even sit down. Some people have rarely even walked through their barren room for suffering. The point is, everyone has a room for suffering and needs to go to it, and we no only carry the suffering of our own in the room, but the suffering of others, and in order to share suffering, someone must open the door of suffering to you.

It is a room to room transfer, and there is a sense of mutuality and vulnerability in the transfer. When spouses suffer, the transfer is almost instant. When family and friends suffer, so do we. The Apostle Paul instructs the church in Rome to "Mourn with those who mourn" and in this sense, share suffering. The Church ought to behave like a family.

The quest of the pastoral companion and fellow traveler is to know when and where to extend this bridge of vulnerability into the room of suffering. We are meant to seek one another out in this way. And we need to watch over our own rooms, our own soul, in order tomake sure there is always room for the suffering of others, as well as our own.

Poem: 18 Years

Siezed and frozen, not in carbonite, 

Kids are now voting age, advanced stage,

And I sit alone in this cage,

A body of rage,immobile, 

inconceivable, irrevocable,

Or so I have resigned myself

This crooked life cannot be made straight. And no one can feel this awful weight.

I hate it. This life.

They say he teaches truth and changes lives, proclaims righteousness and even-gasp-heals.

I've heard it before but still I will rise, 

not fully of course, 

and I will make the long journey down these stairs, through my door

Out into the streets, the whispers and stares, 

They never cease. Like I did anything to deserve this disease, 

and I have almost forgotten my longing to just get this off of me, please, God!

Stiff and still and stalwart, steadily I shuffle on Shabbat, 

and find a seat, near the door, first one I see, 

the ache gets worse when I do anything. 

All that effort and I just want to go home, and lie down.

I'm here but I've forgotten how to hope.

Suddenly I feel a different stare, sublime and subtle somehow, but He is looking right at me. He takes a knee, reaches out and touches me

And whispers gently

"You are free." 

I, it...feels...

...weightless, effortless, lifting up my spirit.

I. Stand. Up.

Addendum:

I can't even hear the noise that follows. I can stand and dance and feel like God hasn't given up on me.

Don't heal on the sabbath? After 18 years, Sabbath rest has finally come to me, praise God(thank you, Jesus) I am free.

Luke 13:10-17

An Update of Sorts: San Francisco

Greetings Friends,

Here is an update on our lives. It is wordy. Enjoy!

Settling in: Moving to San Francisco from Riverside has not been an un-bumpy transition. We are loving some of the features of the city, but it is a city and thus we are shifting to a new way of life. Everything is different. There is no complaining, but differences require adjustments. Like with laundry. We fortunately live 4 blocks from a laundromat and we have figured out a system. We looked like a couple of noobs the first time. Just going to the store is a different experience, and getting anywhere takes about 3 times as long as we would expect. The conveniences of modern life are totally different here.

We are loving the city. Our first weekend here we were invited to a Free Guacamole Competition, that featured over 30 amazing Guacs as well as unlimited chips and beer. The whole thing was free! It seemed wild to us, but this city has so much to offer. Our neighborhood is like a little village, with so many great aspects. Our apartment is less than 400 sq ft, and so we have done some tricky business fitting some stuff in and also getting rid of stuff. We have also been able to get acquainted with a faith community at 1st Mennonite Church. They are very warm, and very mennonite, and I even met a coworker that goes there. It will be a good place to grow and find comfort in our new digs, but nothing seems like it will ever be as rich as Madison St.

At Work: I've been loving work // the program. I feel totally at home and adept in the fast pace of the hospital. It's a lot of new things coming at us fast (me and the other 14 Residents) And there is a lot of explaining to nurses that "I'm new", so that's why I don't know yada yada. UCSF is a very sharp, professional, and yet quite welcoming place. We were just listed as the the #5 Hospital in the country by US and World Report, beating out UCLA for #1 in California for the first time in a few years (So I'm told...I love identifying with the culture here in the hospital/school)

My days are spent splitting time between visiting patients in the mornings, and going to classes in the afternoons, as well as working through educational goals with my supervisor and cohort of fellow residents. I also am on call an average of one night a week which means a 24 hour shift in the hospital (there's a special sleeping room JUST for the Chaplain On Call) and I have a lot of written assignments that I can catch up on when I'm not being paged. As chaplains we are assigned to specific floors, but when on call, I cover everything from Labor & Delivery to Geriatrics. The diversity and opportunities abound in this huge and advanced teaching hospital!

Cristin is busied with connecting to the health system here as well as building into friendships in the city. It has not been easy, but we have found a good Physical Therapist and many supportive voices as we find health care providers, and connect with our community and friends.

We continue to welcome your prayers and uplifting for Cristin's health, our sense of stability, Matthew's work in the hospital, and for the many kind and hurting souls of the city.