Open Spaces

There is an ancient story about a man who moved his family and all that he had to a new place. Because it would be impossible for them to survive in this new place without water, he had his servants dig a well. They were successful however shortly after digging the well, the man’s enemies filled it up with dirt during the night. This process happened several times. Servants would dig a well only to have enemies fill it up again.

Eventually, the enemies gave up. And when this man realized that the well that was dug the previous day was still accessible the next morning he decided to name it. The name translates into our language as “open space”. He chose that name because he now had assurance that he would be able to prosper in the new space in which he found himself.

When I read the story, I was at first taken by the determination and persistence that it took to keep digging wells. I believe I would have given up and tried another location further away from enemies and any other obstacles. But I realize that is a contemporary way of thinking and those in ancient times did not have the options I do today. They had to make it work or they would not survive. What a relief it must have been then to awaken to fresh water. No wonder he chose “open space” to name a well that promised hope.

This story has also caused me to ask myself some deeper questions about my own tight and open spaces. Do I have a well, a source that sustains me? Do I need to dig a well, realizing that what I once thought I could rely on doesn’t serve me anymore? Do I have the determination and persistence to keep going? What works and what doesn’t work in this new space I am in? How will it feel to be in an open space once again?

May we all take some time to reflect upon where we have been, where we are, and where we are going. May we dig wells that sustain us and the courage to step into our new open spaces.

Cherie Shaw, CPE Intern

While this hasn’t been a particularly snowy winter, we’ve had a couple of storms over the past few weeks that brought us a beautiful insulating blanket of about a foot of snow at my home in Massachusetts.  I’ve been noticing how quiet, light, and bright it is here with this covering of snow.  It absorbs the usual noises and at night, it almost looks like the sun is showing through the cracks in my blackout curtains as the moonlight reflects off the snow.

I appreciate this season as Mother Nature’s forced slow-down, a time for quiet and stillness and space in the cycle of the four seasons.  I love the description of winter as “perfect humility.”  Of course winter brings its own joys — the comfort found in a hot mug of tea or bowl of soup, the longer nights to catch up on Netflix favorites, the celebration that comes when the school district announces a snow day.    

Though I don’t want to romanticize the COVID pandemic, with its enormous toll of human suffering, in a way this past year has been one long season of winter.  A forced slow-down, a year of solitude, looking outside at the world through our windows as we stay at home.  As we approach the one year mark of the pandemic and vaccine distribution is increasing, this might be a time to renew our hope that spring is coming.  As surely as the cycle of the seasons, there will be days of growth, renewal, and rebirth ahead of us all.          

I invite you to join me in this prayer adapted from Cal Wick’s “In the Midst of Winter:”

Holy One,
In the midst of winter, when the days are cold and the wind can pierce, remind us of the warmth of your love.
In the midst of winter, when dawn comes late and dusk arrives early, remind us that in the darkness your light still shines.
In the midst of winter, when the flowers of spring still lie hidden in the earth, when leaves are off the trees, and the world can seem bleak, remind us that spring is but a short time away.
And when our lives feel as if we are experiencing a season of winter, reach out to us with the power of your love so that we may see the light that alone can take away the darkness.
Amen.

Cal Wick, “In the Midst of Winter”

Peace & blessings to you,

Jennifer, CPE Intern

Black Elk, leader of the Oglala Lakota Sioux people, used the term “the first peace” to identify a sense of connection we feel within ourselves.  In his book The Sacred Pipe, dictated to American anthropologists and published in 1953, the first peace is described as:  

“that which comes within the souls of people when they realize their relationship, their oneness, with the universe and all its powers, and when they realize that at the center of the universe dwells Wakan-Tanka (the Great Spirit), and that this center is really everywhere, it is within each of us. This is the real peace, and the others are but reflections of this.”

Poet and philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson published an essay titled “The Over-Soul” in 1841, describing what he understood as a “common heart”:

“within [humanity] is the soul of the whole; the wise silence; the universal beauty, to which every part and particle is equally related; the eternal One… We know that all spiritual being is in [humanity].  We lie open on one side to the deeps of spiritual nature, to the attributes of God.  Justice we see and know, Love, Freedom, Power.” 

I read Black Elk a few years ago in Conflict Transformation class in seminary, and I just came across some of his writings again this week as I was looking through a collection of writings and poetry by indigenous peoples.  Also this week, I found myself reading a collection of Emerson’s essays while I was sitting by the fire on a relaxing Saturday afternoon and I reached for the closest book. 

These two readings offered me a good lesson — sometimes I think we’re saying the same thing, just using different language.

No doubt we speak through the lens of our experiences and so we use the language that comes most naturally to us.  But language can be divisive.  What I describe as “a and b” might be “x and y” to you.  If we’re going to really listen and understand one another, we might need to dig a little to uncover what we’re actually trying to say. 

In these times when we’re quick to identify our differences and claim our ground, may we have patience to dig and seek understanding.  May we seek to realize the first peace within ourselves by opening our eyes to our common heart.   

Blessings & peace to you,

Jennifer

CPE Intern  

This week was a milestone celebration moment at HHH – some received the first dose of the COVID vaccine, and the rest received their second dose.  Halleluiah!! 

As the COVID vaccine rolls out in our own little corner of the world, across the country, and around the world, I’m feeling the tender sensation of Hope re-awaken after a deep slumber.  Hope that we are starting to see the light at the end of a long tunnel.  Hope that we can, and will, weather the storm and will be able raise our faces, once again, to the warm sun of togetherness. 

May these excerpts from Amanda Gorman’s poem, The Hill We Climb offer inspiration and hope on the dawn of this new day as we celebrate reaching a milestone at HHH.

When day comes we ask ourselves,
where can we find light in this never-ending shade?
The loss we carry,
a sea we must wade

We’ve braved the belly of the beast…

…our people diverse and beautiful will emerge,
battered and beautiful
When day comes we step out of the shade,
aflame and unafraid
The new dawn blooms as we free it
For there is always light,
if only we’re brave enough to see it
If only we’re brave enough to be it

Marianne DiBlasi, CPE Intern

This is my second unit of CPE. My first was in September 2019 and my second began in
September 2020. The two units have each presented their challenges. We CPE interns have
been assigned residents in a different manner this year compared to last. In 2019 we each had
residents from each of the various areas: Health Service Center, The Lodge, LAL, Havenwood
Cottages, and Heritage Heights Cottages. And of course this year is much different since we
have not been able to visit residents in person since December because of COVID, and we
have had to conduct interaction with residents either by telephone or ZOOM. The other thing
that is different is each of us has been assigned to specific areas rather than an assignment
of residents from each of the various areas and campuses. Having an assignment from one
specific area has given me a different perspective of HHH. Sometimes it is hard to realize
that the two campuses (Havenwood and Heritage Heights) are really part of the same
organization. Whenever I am on one particular campus, the other is referred to as “over there.”

But the one particular thing that I am impressed with is the attitude of all of the residents
regardless of where they are living. Each of the independent residents is interviewed yearly
with what is called SWELL Chats. This is a means of touching base with the resident to see
how things are going. My impression of the residents of HHH prior to COVID was the
friendliness, the happy frame of mind, and the many smiles. Now that we have been living
with COVID for almost a year, my impression is still the same. Despite COVID weariness
and sometimes feeling “zoomed out,” most residents are still very friendly, in a happy frame
of mind, and have many smiles. The resilience of the residents is amazing.

Some of the questions with the SWELL Chat are: What is your strength? What do you do
for fun? What are your spiritual practices? The answers are rather similar from each resident.

1. Strengths: Keeping a positive attitude on life.
2. Activities: Walking or hiking for exercise; jigsaw puzzles; card games; reading; activities on Channel 919 such as World Affairs; Book Discussion; Sing Alongs; Updates from Administration.
3. Social interaction: Zoom with family, meals with friends at Barrows for lunch.
4. Spiritual practices: Commune with nature; Zoom with my church community on Sundays.

We each have had to alter our lifestyle for the past year with COVID. And although there are
some down times and feelings of despair as to when will it all end, there is a reservoir of
resilience in most of us. This may be more apparent to us when we are relieved of COVID
and are able to look back and assess our resilience. We will analyze our responses and be
able to see how we got through it. But even now it is worth the time to celebrate our
resilience and to look at the lessons that we are learning. It really is summed up to keeping
a positive outlook on life, just as our HHH residents are doing.

Dear Lord,
Thank you for the challenges in life that help to build my strength.
Thank you for the times when my lack of resources reminds me of the value of resourcefulness.
Thank you for the mysterious people who confound, frustrate and annoy me, teaching me patience and the art of forgiveness.
Thank you for the moments when I am in desperate need of a miracle, and at the very last moment, from an unexpected source, one arrives.
Thank you for the difficult path that only I can walk, the challenging problems that you have prepared for me to solve and the purpose that you have for my life.
Thank you for the moments of courage that you give me so that I can live a life of meaning, not comfort.
Thank you for the moments when I am aware of my many faults, not so that I can wallow in guilt, but so that I can tap into your grace and mercy.
Thank you for sending angels to wrestle with me, building my resilience and teaching me to hold on to what is good.
I pray that you would give me strong ankles for the times when I walk on rocky ground.
I pray that you would give me a strong heart for the times when pain would otherwise break my spirit.
And I pray that even in the darkest night, I will be looking to the light that’s coming.
I pray that I (and my family and friends) may be numbered with the resilient ones.
Amen

Darren Poke, Better Life Coaching Blog

Mary Anne Totten, CPE Intern

As I sat watching the NFL playoff games on Sunday I was reminded how the simple joy of cheering for my favorite team lifted my spirits.  It is in that spirit that I introduce, Sister Jean Dolores Schmidt, Loyola University’s 101-year-old basketball chaplain and her positive outlook on life.   At age 101, Sister Jean is living through her second pandemic.  Every day during the Covid19 epidemic, she is up at 5 a.m. for morning prayers before starting work on Zoom.  Confined to her apartment, she answers emails and records pre-game prayers for her beloved Loyola Ramblers.  Sister Jean, who turned 101 in August, longs to return to face-to-face interaction with students and fellow faculty members.  Yet, as COVID and Zoom fatigue have set in across the country, Sister Jean remains hopeful as her prayers for the health and safety of others continue.  She attributes her optimism to her mother who always encouraged the children to find the positives of every situation in life – no matter what.  “My mom told us to always look on the bright side of life, always.  I think about all of these awful things that are happening, but I want to look at the good things.  I know sometimes, it’s easy to say, ‘Everything is bad’ but no, not everything is bad.  We want to work on the bad and make it good, but we have to believe that something good is going to come out of this….I think we’re going to be better.  We have to think good is going to come out of this, but we have to do some good to make that happen.  I shouldn’t just say, ‘my neighbor has to do that’ – no, I have to do that.”  For now, Sister Jean continues to pray for those around her – both those that she knows and those that she doesn’t.  Many who ask her for prayers ask for perseverance as they await better days ahead (Patch.com)

I close with a prayer from Sister Jean with a modification from the Loyola Rambler’s to the HHH team.

We ask our God to protect our caregivers, all healthcare personnel, the elderly, and those especially susceptible, those who are suffering from this disease and those who have died, as well as those who are mourning the death of their loved ones.  As the days go by let us continue our team spirit, let us bring happiness and joy to others and let us ask our God to continue to protect us with His great love.  So God bless us, stay healthy, be safe, and go HHH team.  Amen.

Sarah McEvoy, CPE Intern

A couple of days ago, a car in front of me had this bumper sticker on it: “Be the person your dog thinks you are.”

My dog Pucci taught me a lot. In fact, he taught me more than I taught him.

I was his shelter.

I was his playmate.

I was his partner in all kinds of adventures in the winter woods and summer lakesides.

I was his source of food.

In a thunderstorm, I was his reassurance that everything was going to be okay.

When he would curl up against one of my legs on the couch in the evening, I would be reminded of the most important thing I was to Pucci: His source of comfort. And he was mine.

A dog doesn’t know things in words, like we do. A dog knows in feelings.

What more powerful and more positive feeling can anyone know than comfort?

What could be a more deeply felt expression of unspoken love than this sense of peace and security?

What more can I aspire to as a human being — as one of God’s precious creatures — than to be a source of peace, security and comfort – and to have that feeling returned, even without a word being spoken?

John Terauds, CPE Intern

Puppy Love

She’s almost five months old and has been running around our home like she’s the queen for seven weeks now. She was born to a hoarder in the south and wasn’t touched by human hands until she was eight weeks old. She was six pounds and timid when the rescue team handed her to me through my car window on a rainy December Saturday morning. The purple ribbon tied around her neck ensured me she was my pup; the one I saw in the online pictures. I wrapped her in warm blanket, held her close and told her she had it made it home. The funny thing is a part of me that I hadn’t realized was missing made it home that morning too. I’ve seen the bumper stickers, the ones that say, “Who saved who?” surrounded by paw prints. Now I understand.

We call her Hazelnut, sometimes Hazel and often times Hazy, although Little Nut suites her best. When naming her, I was inspired by the story of an ancient mystic who wrote these words about a hazelnut almost 700 years ago, “And in this he showed me a little thing, the quantity of a hazel nut, lying in the palm of my hand, as it seemed. And it was as round as any ball. I looked upon it with the eye of my understanding, and thought, ‘What may this be?’ And it was answered generally thus, ‘It is all that is made.’ I marveled how it might last, for I thought it might suddenly have fallen to nothing for littleness. . .In this little thing I saw three properties. The first is that God made it. The second that God loves it. And the third, that God keeps it.” – Julian of Norwich

I speak her name throughout each day and I am reminded of three properties: God made her, God loves her, and God keeps her or sustains her. This little creature reminds me to connect to the rhythms of life, reminds me to take breaks and play, reminds me to eat and rest, reminds me that I am a little thing too.

On walks under a blue January sky, we sometimes pause. She sniffs the ground and I look toward heaven. My soul whispers the words as a prayer, “You made me, God. You love me, God. You sustain me, God.” Then I call to Hazelnut and we walk the rest of the way home.

Cherie Shaw, CPE Intern

In tomorrow’s community worship service, I’ll be sharing a song for reflection that’s become an anthem for me during these challenging times.  I’d like to share the lyrics with you as well:

“I Am Willing” by Holly Near

I am open and I am willing

To be hopeless would seem so strange

It dishonors those who go before us

So lift me up to the light of change

There is hurting in my family

There is sorrow in my town

There is panic in the nation

There is wailing the whole world round

May the children see more clearly

May the elders be more wise

May the winds of change caress us

Even though it burns our eyes

Give me a mighty oak to hold my confusion

Give me a desert to hold my fears

Give me a sunset to hold my wonder

Give me an ocean to hold my tears

I find myself constantly returning to these words.  They remind me that what matters most is how I respond when there’s a swirling tornado all around me.  Creation is big enough and powerful enough to hold my confusion and fears, if I can simply remain open and willing.

Of course being open and willing is not always easy.  Am I open to hearing and trying to understand all points of view, even when they’re very different from my own?  Am I willing to admit that I don’t have all the answers and that I’m only able to see things through the lens of my own experiences?  Am I willing to pick up the phone and be the one to apologize, even when the phone feels like it weighs 1,000 lbs.?  In the midst of hurt all around me, I can choose to take small steps towards peace.     

I hope you find some comfort in these lyrics as well.  Today, may we all try to be open and willing, and may we rest in knowing that’s enough. 

Blessings & peace to you,

Jennifer, CPE Intern

The year 2020 marked the 100th anniversary of the passage of the 19th Amendment, guaranteeing and protecting women’s constitutional right to vote.  On Wednesday, when Joe Biden was sworn in as the 46th President of the United States, Kamala Harris was inaugurated as the first woman, first Black, and first Indian-American ever to hold the office of the Vice President.  Today, I offer you a prayer conceived by Alden Solovy and Evan Kent to celebrate the momentous occasion of Kamala Harris’ Vice Presidential inauguration. 

A Prayer Celebrating Kamala Harris’ Inauguration

Our God and God of our mothers and fathers,
On this historic inauguration
We celebrate a woman becoming Vice President of the United States,
A 100 year-climb from women’s suffrage to the Oval Office.

We honor and remember all the women in our lives who sought freedom,
And all who came before in this struggle,
The women who paved the way for equality,
Who marched in the streets,
Who supported their families,
Who battled sexism and racism in the face of hostility.
Who were paid less,
Passed over for jobs,
And battled for promotions,
Who had to prove themselves more capable than male colleagues.

Vice President Kamala Harris has broken through
One of the most formidable glass ceilings of leadership
And into the innermost sanctum of power
In the world’s most successful democracy
At a time of crisis.
Black. Asian-American. Woman.
Powerful. Focused. Unyielding.
Articulate. Educated. Brilliant.
Successful, she is everything
The old guard
And the good ol’ boys fear.

The glass ceiling of government –
The White House and the Office of the Vice President –
Has been broken.
There is only one more glass ceiling left.
But the barriers that still
Keep minorities and women from rising
To the upper rungs of success,
Regardless of their qualifications or achievements,
Have not been broken for all.
As we celebrate this victory,
We pledge ourselves to continue the struggle,
Knowing the depth of the work of justice and healing required.

“A Prayer Celebrating Kamala Harris’ Inauguration” is © 2021 Alden Solovy and Evan Kent.

Marianne DiBlasi, CPE Intern