Meaningful conversation

Recently I read  an abridged article titled "Diagnosis: Meaning Fatigue" by Holly Gaudette, a staff chaplain at a medical center in New York, herself undergoing treatment for her third bout with cancer. (From Health Care Chaplaincy Today, July 2013)

The article I read started with the statement:

If I were admitted to hospital today, and if you were my chaplain, it’s likely you would find me difficult to engage. Had you stopped by to visit, I would chat politely with you. I would make small talk about bike riding, the weather, or the interesting necklace you’re wearing. But when you try to engage me, I simply will not go there.

She goes on to talk of her life experience with cancer and the accompanying emotional depletion she felt.  Towards the end she says:

The absolute wrong thing for you to do now is to try desperately to have a meaningful conversation with me. Eventually, you will succeed. You will nudge me to express my feelings of fear and grief, and I will go there with you sooner or later. My defenses are weak, and my emotions are all very close to the surface. Yet all you will have accomplished is to further deplete my emotional stores. What you can do is offer normalcy. Companionship. Friendly conversation.

Reading this led me to reflect on my experience as chaplain.  At first I really wanted to have those meaningful conversations; if I was lucky, about God, but even getting to where the patient was open about what was on his mind had me feeling grateful that I was doing what the role expected of me. 

Perhaps I expect less of myself now.  I'm starting to see that enjoying the interaction is a far bigger deal.  Being genuinely interested in the person behind the words, feeling a real connection is a two way thing.

This is, I feel sure, is what Holly Gaudette means when she says "Companionship. Friendly conversation."  There's a nourishment happening in the soul when we take a real interest in another without trying to 'fix' anything.  When I want to help a patient open to his pain there's a temptation to see myself as the benevolent person who has something to give to one who needs my help.  When I'm in the role of chaplain I may feel pleased with myself for a little while afterwards but it doesn't satisfy in the way that a real conversation does, where there's no hidden agenda to 'help.'

It's not quite how I was trained as chaplain. I don't want to rubbish that training though, because it directs me to looking for the person within the 'patient' and asks me to create, if I can, a space where the person feels safe to speak about how he feels. However, I'm slowly learning that I need to be open to my own feelings in an interaction in order to truly communicate, and also that the rewards of this kind of interaction are immediate, the mutual pleasure of being real with someone.  This doesn't mean that I'm

Syntax and all that

I've been told I'm a spelling and grammar Nazi.  OK, I agree.  When the written word isn't perfect to my eye I'm in danger of losing focus on the substance of the message, distracted by the mistake.  Add to that syntax.  I only found out what this means the other day; it's the arranging of words in a sentence, or so I understand. Ha, I thought with satisfaction, that's the word that completes me.  I'm a syntax Nazi too!

So I wasn't at all happy to look back on my most recent blog and see that all the paragraphs had run together.  As a reader I feel very hurried when there is no space for pause.  Conversely, I love the way that the written word, with all those carefully thought-out rules, can convey so much.

One of the favourite picture books my kids grew up with had a moral to the story: "it's never too late to correct a mistake."  Without further ado I'll re-submit my last blog, paragraphs and all this time hopefully, and you can decide for yourself whether it makes a difference.

Lukewarm

The other day I had a massage. In my life I've tended to be wary of this kind of thing and it's only very recently that I've decided to 'bite the bullet' as it were.  Strange expression for something that many people find enjoyable but I suppose pampering oneself was not something that was exactly a highlight of my Catholic upbringing (my parents being Dutch rather than Italian Catholics!)

It has been suggested to me that becoming more aware of my body can be a window into becoming more aware of my feelings, and so I have been approaching massages as a way to discover anger. For example, when the person massaging me finds a tender spot and works on it, I would lie there willing myself to allow the pain, sometimes yelling out in anger which, if nothing else, seemed to distract me a little from the pain happening and I often felt that I was being punished (yes, I have discovered that pain is linked to emotions!) 

But some time into this massage I had this thought that I don't need to go through all this pain. I somehow understood that I was being too hard on myself and that I should ask the masseur to go easy, to make it painless.  I was actually afraid to do this! Especially afraid that she would take it as a personal criticism.  But I got brave and she was happy to comply for the remainder of the session.

I've reflected a bit on this and some associated events recently. I'm now aware that I very often choose to do what I feel is expected of me or to do what will keep the peace in preference to what I really want.  I've been doing this for so long that it's second nature, that most of the time I think I am actually doing what I want.  Would I do this to the extent that I allow someone to inflict pain on me while telling myself that that's what I want?? Well - yes. 

One of the things that Jesus teaches is for me to take personal responsibility for myself.  I really dislike this teaching. I want to feel safe and follow guidelines. I don't want to feel bad because I've made what seems to me like an awful mistake.  I've learned from Jesus that God wants me to be actively involved in discovering who I really am, not to blindly follow a set of rules made by someone else in preference to thinking and deciding and experimenting for myself.

I've always liked that phrase in the Bible where we are told that it is better to be hot or cold, but if we're lukewarm we will be spat out, or something like that.  I never saw myself as a lukewarm person but the evidence is right there for me to acknowledge.  When I come for a massage I make sure the masseur knows she can follow her own instinct about where to go and how hard to prod and I lie there feeling like a battered child. And that's being lukewarm.  And I see that I do this constantly in my life and it gets me nowhere.  I need to start seriously asking myself what I want, get over my issue about making a horrible mistake, and get hot or cold.

I'm looking forward to my next massage.  I'm looking forward to asking for a gentle soft massage and feeling like a pampered baby - and loving every minute!

Lukewarm

The other day I had a massage. In my life I've tended to be wary of this kind of thing and it's only very recently that I've decided to 'bite the bullet' as it were. Strange expression for something that many people find enjoyable but I suppose pampering oneself was not something that was exactly a highlight of my Catholic upbringing (my parents being Dutch rather than Italian Catholics!) It has been suggested to me that becoming more aware of my body can be a window into becoming more aware of my feelings, and so I have been approaching massages as a way to discover anger. For example, when the person massaging me finds a tender spot and works on it, I would lie there willing myself to allow the pain, sometimes yelling out in anger which, if nothing else, seemed to distract me a little from the pain happening and I often felt that I was being punished (yes, I have discovered that pain is linked to emotions!) But some time into this massage I had this thought that I don't need to go through all this pain. I somehow understood that I was being too hard on myself and that I should ask the masseur to go easy, to make it painless. I was actually afraid to do this! Especially afraid that she would take it as a personal criticism. But I got brave and she was happy to comply for the remainder of the session. I've reflected a bit on this and some associated events recently. I'm now aware that I very often choose to do what I feel is expected of me or to do what will keep the peace in preference to what I really want. I've been doing this for so long that it's second nature, that most of the time I think I am actually doing what I want. Would I do this to the extent that I allow someone to inflict pain on me while telling myself that that's what I want?? Well - yes. One of the things that Jesus teaches is for me to take personal responsibility for myself. I really dislike this teaching. I want to feel safe and follow guidelines. I don't want to feel bad because I've made what seems to me like an awful mistake. I've learned from Jesus that God wants me to be actively involved in discovering who I really am, not to blindly follow a set of rules made by someone else in preference to thinking and deciding and experimenting for myself. I've always liked that phrase in the Bible where we are told that it is better to be hot or cold, but if we're lukewarm we will be spat out, or something like that. I never saw myself as a lukewarm person but the evidence is right there for me to acknowledge. When I come for a massage I make sure the masseur knows she can follow her own instinct about where to go and how hard to prod and I lie there feeling like a battered child. And that's being lukewarm. And I see that I do this constantly in my life and it gets me nowhere. I need to start seriously asking myself what I want, get over my issue about making a horrible mistake, and get hot or cold. I'm looking forward to my next massage. I'm looking forward to asking for a gentle soft massage and feeling like a pampered baby - and loving every minute!