Transitions, Defensiveness, Wholeness..

My time is winding down at the hospital. I am trying to savor each conversation with patients and nurses, not knowing whether or not I’ll ever have an experience like this again. Last week one of my co-workers remarked that she was surprised I haven’t wept with patients. I was aware of multiple reactions to her comment. My obnoxious default (that I’m trying to change) is to be defensive and reactive. That isn’t helpful. Justifying oneself never seems to open conversations.

My second unhelpful reaction, which I’m also trying to change about myself, is to compare. If I am not crying as much as others, what does that mean? Do I suck as a chaplain? Are my empathy skills lacking? Is everyone else better than me? Why do I care, if they are- what does it say about myself that that is threatening?

Oh, introspection… my constant companion. I no longer want to live in a reactive space, either by becoming defensive, or comparing and beating myself up. I want to be comfortable in my own skin and do things my way, not trying to emulate anyone else, or measure myself against them. We all have different gifting. I want to be confident in and use mine, not that of someone else. I know who I am, I know how my heart has been deeply moved by patients and families; and that impact can manifest in a variety of ways.

However, I tried exploring her question, asking myself if I am letting my heart be callous as a coping technique for imminent transitions. I have experienced a lot of transitions in my life. More than most people. And I have many to anticipate on the horizon as well. Moving. Jobs. Friendships. A lot of saying goodbye and starting all over again. Withdrawal can be a natural, almost subconscious tendency for self-preservation.

My lovely friend Shannon is in a similar space, and shared this weekend how she’s stopped her premature grieving processes, since they aren’t helpful. Rather than letting her live in the present and make the most of opportunities, her heart has many times been burdened and distracted by question marks about the future, which have robbed her of being present.

I resonate with her, feeling like I’m merely ‘treading water’ at times, rather than being purposeful about the time I have. I would like to follow her lead in soaking in all a place has to offer before transitioning to the next place. Everywhere we go and everyone we meet have such extraordinary things to offer, if only we are open to the present. So that is my prayer for the end of my time here at the hospital, for this season of life, and for all who can resonate with this struggle to stay present amidst the question marks of life. Amen.