A Poem About Identity

A reflection on identity, personality, memory and the brain.

Who Am I?

If I am no longer me,
     who am I?

Am I now stories to be told,

     tales to be wove,

     about someone who used to be?

Am I memories that live inside of others,

     childhood memories of my sisters and brothers?

Who am I?

In Divine time,
     I Am Who I Am.

In the Grip of God's Grace, 

Pastor Anitta <3+

Living an Unremarkable Life

Noun — An irresistible desire to travel in order to understand one’s self.

They say that your 20s are supposed to be a time of exploration, figuring yourself out, setting your dreams. It’s also the time to get your ducks in a row so that by 30 you’re ready to settle down, have kids, get business cards and work towards that spacious corner office. Right? At least, that’s what I’ve heard.

Today, I am struggling with being in that in between place. In 10 short days, I will be on the other side of 25 and I am beginning to wonder if I've got my 'priorities' figured out. In health care chaplaincy, I often encounter folks who report working hard all of their lives, finally retiring and a week later have a stroke, wake up paralyzed, or another significant medical issue with their loved one. These folks have literally worked themselves so hard, that when they finally have the chance to rest, the years of trauma catch up to them all at once.

I DON'T WANT TO BE THAT PERSON.

At 25, I hold in tension being both a novice in my field, but accomplished amongst my peers. While I report in to a 8-5 job for 40+ hours a week, one of my best friends is traveling the world and collecting experiences which will make her memories of being a 20-something, worth remembering. Am I going to remember my day-to-day experiences of my residency? Probably not.

In one of my learning didactics, the facilitator presented material on Use of Self. In his discussion, he spoke about reporting on people's psychological state as being 'unremarkable'. By unremarkable, the doctor was indicating that his assessment of the patient showed no signs of deviation outside of the normal range.

The word unremarkable has stuck with me.

When I share my story, I often hear feedback that it is remarkable, that I am remarkable. However, my experience of myself is that I am unremarkable. I graduated, went to college, went to seminary, acquired a residency. Despite my challenges and setbacks, the path that I have led to this point has not REALLY been a deviation outside of the normal range.

When I think about how I want to remember my 20s, I think about not being ready to settle, to be in a routine. I like the idea of getting in my car and driving all night. I like cramming onto a Megabus to go to Philadelphia for an authentic Philly Cheesesteak. And, even more so, I like traveling outside of the US in an attempt to understand the world and my place in it a little bit better.

Yet, none of my life plans seem to be leading me that route. I want to scoop ice cream in Ghana or become a bartender in Guatemala. But, I also want to become a Board Certified Hospital Chaplain, an outreach minister in Chicago, a Soup kitchen director in San Francisco.

I am drawn to the image of a plate spinner. It’s a strange balancing act. In one hand, I’m balancing my “career” plates and in the other, I’m balancing my “dream” plates. In an ideal world, I’d be able to keep both sets spinning. However, I’m afraid I might drop one in favor of keeping the others up.

For those of you struck with wanderlust, how do you cope with leading a ‘normal’ life? How do you manage to balance your dreams with your reality?

When A Parent Dies by Whoa Susannah

When a parent dies, one of the hardest things to do is go through their stuff. Going through an entire house and picking through each drawer, cabinet and closet is not only physically draining, but emotionally draining as well. 

With each scrap of paper or photo or piece of clothing is attached a cherished memory. You come across placemats you've been looking at your entire life and have to make the painstaking decision to toss them in a donate box or keep them for another 30 years. 

You keep them, of course. 

And then you realize you're keeping too much stuff and have no place to put it all. The apron Mother wore is a must keep- no brainer there- along with the furniture and knick knacks and 12 Rubbermaid bins of photos and family history and her poetry and three sets of fine China and the vintage light fixture that's been hanging over the kitchen table for decades-- but what about that Tupperware from 1987 that carried her Mississippi Mud Cake to grandmother's house on birthdays and holidays? It still smells like her cake batter, but do you really need another piece of her Tupperware? Your kitchen cabinets are already overflowing with her dishes. 

So you toss the yellow cake carrier into the donate box and stew over it for the next hour. Should you have kept it? Should you keep every single one of her nightgowns, too, although you've already put 14 of them in a box to take home? Can you let go? 

You feel like she's there saying, "Don't get rid of that! That was your grandmother's mixing bowl! Are you really going to give away my favorite houseshoes? I bought those at Goldsmith's 10 years ago but they still look new!" 

So you find yourself digging through the donate box for Tupperware and nightgowns and reading glasses and mixing bowls and houseshoes and magnets from her refrigerator and you throw it all in your car. 

You sit in your kitchen surrounded by boxes of your mother's makeup and spatulas and pillows and anything that still carries her scent. Suddenly you've inherited your deceased father's shirts and your deceased grandmother's kitchen towels because your mother couldn't let go of those things either. 

You have no idea what to do with it all because these things don't fall into the "must keep" category the way her antique armoire and photos and the dress she wore to your wedding do. These things fall into the "can't yet let go" category. 

You can't think about it anymore, so you shove it into closets and the attic. You'll do something with it all later. 

Thirty years will pass and you'll still have boxes packed with Estee Lauder powder, Spellbound perfume, crusty blush brushes, placemats and 40 year old houseshoes. 

Cause you'll never want to let it go.

Mourn with those Who Mourn: Romans 12:15

When I arrived at the room, I found a weeping child, and a shocked sister. I found a man barely in his 40s, struggling to take his last deep breaths. At the direction of the patient's Health Care Power Of Attorney, all medical interventions were stopped and comfort measures were began. One by one, the medical team exited the room leaving me with sisters, a brother-in-law and a son. The five of us gathered around the patient. We cried, held one another and sang. We prayed and shared stories. The patient died shortly after.

As I stood there, I could not help but relate my own experiences. I don't really know how to acknowledge this publicly, but over the last two months, I had a sibling and a step-parent complete suicide. Although, I did not name my experiences with this family, I was able to use my experiences to inform my practice. I spoke out of the deep pit of discomfort and grief. I lamented alongside of them, reflecting on my own pain and suffering. I am sure that these experiences will continue to impact my chaplaincy care, pastoral care and spiritual care. As they do, I look forward to having this space to be open and vulnerable about the encounters.

After spending most of my early morning with this family and being brought back to my own place of grief and mourning, I was responsible for offering both our staff devotion as well as leading a staff prayer service this morning. Here are the words that I shared:

Devotion: Mourn with Those Who Mourn

Rejoice with those who rejoice;

mourn with those who mourn. 

Romans 12:15 NIV

When I was growing up, my family had a border collie who was very aware of and sensitive to human emotions. Whenever something was upsetting me and I'd sneak away too my room for a good cry, he was usually the first one on the scene to check in on me. He'd walk in quietly, lay his head on my lap, and look up at me with his big brown eyes. He would stay there, sitting quietly next to me, until I felt better. His simple presence was overwhelmingly comforting.

Instead of running away from a potentially awkward situation, embrace the opportunity to be a comfort and support to someone who is hurting. Look out for those who might need and extra hug, smile, or encouraging word. Even if you don't know what to say, just being an empathetic and supporting presence is all that's necessary.

Physical and emotional pain tend to make us feel very alone, so the simple act of noticing that someone is hurting, being there for them, mourning with them, and standing by until they feel betters remarkable power to heal wounds and banish loneliness.

-- 3-minute Devotions for a God Lover's Heart: 180 Paws-itively Perfect Readings 

May the Spirit bless you with discomfort

at easy answers, half truths and superficial relationships
so that you will live deep in your heart. 

May the Spirit bless you with anger
at injustice and oppression, the exploitation of people and earth
so that you will work for justice, equity and peace. 

May the Spirit bless you with tears
to shed for those who suffer
so that you will reach out your hand to comfort them. 

May the Spirit bless you with foolishness
to think that you can make a difference in the world
so that you will do the things which others say cannot be done.

Prayer Service

Centering
As we begin our time together, I invite you to meditate with a two way breath. As you breathe in, you may choose to focus on the item you named. As you breathe out, you may choose to focus on something that you’d like to let go. For example: I may breathe in “peace” and exhale “fear”.

Reading
“Like a wild animal, the soul is tough, resilient, resourceful, savvy, and self-sufficient: it knows how to survive in hard places. I learned about these qualities during my bouts with depression. In that deadly darkness, the faculties I had always depended on collapsed. My intellect was useless; my emotions were dead; my will was impotent; my ego was shattered. But from time to time, deep in the thickets of my inner wilderness, I could sense the presence of something that knew how to stay alive even when the rest of me wanted to die. That something was my tough and tenacious soul.”

-- Parker Palmer, A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey Toward an Undivided Life

Reflection
What of Parker Palmer’s words caused the strongest feelings in you? Why?
While you were reading, describe what you pictured in your mind.
Are there connections between Parker Palmer’s words and your life? If so, how?
What do you wonder about this reading?

Prayer

Beautiful Mystery,

Where hearts are fearful and constricted,

grant courage and hope.

Where anxiety is infectious and widening,

grant peace and reassurance.

Where impossibilities close every door and window,

grant imagination and resistance.

Where distrust twists our thinking,

grant healing and illumination.

Where spirits are daunted and weakened,

grant soaring wings and strengthened dreams.

Blessing
The love of the faithful Creator
The peace of the wounded Healer
The joy of the challenging Spirit
The hope of the Three in One
Surround and encourage you
Today, tonight and forever.

-- Kathy Galloway, The Pattern of Our Days

In the Grip of God's Grace, 

Pastor Anitta +♡