"the things we take for granted, someone else is praying for"

The Matterhorn

If your family is anything like mine, you have a lot to be grateful for this Thanksgiving. Most of our issues will revolve around what we call "first world problems." Whether to use a tablecloth or place mats for dinner. Whether to serve pumpkin pie or apple. Which grace to recite before we overindulge.

"Feeling gratitude and not expressing it 

is like wrapping a present and not giving it."

~William Arthur Ward~

Many people are not so fortunate given today's climate of fear, hatred, and intolerance, the scourge of domestic violence, the plight of the poor and hungry. The threat of gun violence. Of terrorism. The refugee crisis. War.

Clearly, many can't or won't be allowed to enjoy Thanksgiving this year. This, I feel is a sad thing for a country so full of promise, so full of possibility, and so full of hope for so many.

"We should certainly count our blessings,

but we should also make our blessings count."

~Neal A. Maxwell~

Because the news has been especially dismal lately, I decided to share this poem:

Let America Be America Again

Langston Hughes (1902-1967)

Let America be America again.

 Let it be the dream it used to be.

 Let it be the pioneer on the plain

 Seeking a home where he himself is free.

 (America never was America to me.)

 Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed—

 Let it be that great strong land of love

 Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme

 That any man be crushed by one above.

 (It never was America to me.)

 O, let my land be a land where Liberty

 Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,

 But opportunity is real, and life is free,

 Equality is in the air we breathe.

 (There’s never been equality for me,

 Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)

 ''Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?

 And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?''

 I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,

 I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.

 I am the red man driven from the land,

 I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—

 And finding only the same old stupid plan

 Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

 I am the young man, full of strength and hope,

 Tangled in that ancient endless chain

 Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!

 Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!

 Of work the men! Of take the pay!

 Of owning everything for one’s own greed!

 I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.

 I am the worker sold to the machine.

 I am the Negro, servant to you all.

 I am the people, humble, hungry, mean—

 Hungry yet today despite the dream.

 Beaten yet today—O, Pioneers!

 I am the man who never got ahead,

 The poorest worker bartered through the years.

 Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream

 In the Old World while still a serf of kings,

 Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,

 That even yet its mighty daring sings

 In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned

 That’s made America the land it has become.

 O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas

 In search of what I meant to be my home—

 For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore,

 And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea,

 And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came

 To build a “homeland of the free.”

 The free?

 Who said the free?  Not me?

 Surely not me?  The millions on relief today?

 The millions shot down when we strike?

 The millions who have nothing for our pay?

 For all the dreams we’ve dreamed

 And all the songs we’ve sung

 And all the hopes we’ve held

 And all the flags we’ve hung,

 The millions who have nothing for our pay—

 Except the dream that’s almost dead today.

 O, let America be America again—

 The land that never has been yet—

 And yet must be—the land where ''every'' man is free.

 The land that’s mine—the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME—

 Who made America,

 Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,

 Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain

 Must bring back our mighty dream again.

 Sure, call me any ugly name you choose—

 The steel of freedom does not stain.

 From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,

 We must take back our land again,

 America!

 O, yes,

 I say it plain,

 America never was America to me,

 And yet I swear this oath—

 America will be!

 Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,

 The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,

 We, the people, must redeem

 The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.

 The mountains and the endless plain—

 All, all the stretch of these great green states—

 And make America again.

*

Thanksgiving is such an iconic observance in our country, I can't help but feel a bit nostalgic about it, much the way I feel about the values America was founded upon...and much the way I remember the innocent, if naive, pleasure I took in Thanksgivings long since past. This week, I give thanks for the promise, possibility, and hope that America symbolizes to the world.

"The things we take for granted

someone else is praying for."

~Attribution Unknown~

jan

how do you process suffering?

How do you process suffering?

If you are a healthcare provider, a caretaker, or a therapist in any field, you expect to encounter suffering. It's part of your job. It's the reason you chose this kind of work: to alleviate suffering. To provide comfort. Care. Healing. 

Whether you are treating a patient with chest pain, or a child with a broken leg, or a patient who has overdosed, you don't hesitate out of fear or dread because you can't bear the sight of blood or the smell of pus. You don't abandon the patient because you're hungry, or tired, or because your shift is coming to and end you have other plans. You do your job. You take suffering in stride because it is your calling in life.

"The simple act of caring

is heroic."

~Edward Albert~

The fact that you can provide comfort and relief is its own reward. It motivates you to continue. It is both satisfying and fulfilling. It takes the sting out of the insecurities, fears, and prejudices that might otherwise make you hesitate. However, this is not true in every instance, nor is it true for most ordinary human beings. Not everyone is prepared, or motivated, or courageous enough to confront suffering, their own or others'.

Suffering, of course, comes in many guises: physical, psychological, emotional, and spiritual. It can present as pain, hunger, loss, fear, depression, shame, guilt, and grief. Confusion, abandonment, isolation. Dread. Hopelessness. It can end in death. I could go on.

If you're one of the lucky ones who is able to reach out to help the suffering, I hope you will. Volunteer. Donate. Speak up. March. Pray.

If you are a person who prefers to ignore, or deny, or shrug it off when you encounter suffering, now might be a good time to ask yourself, "Why?" 

"Everything can be taken from a man 

but one thing:

...to choose one's attitude

in any given circumstance,

to choose one's own way."

~Viktor Frankl~

This might be a good time to think about how you process the suffering you experience, or witness, or hear about in the news and on social media...because, if the president elect has his way, we are doomed to confront cruelty and suffering that is beyond our wildest imagination. The stuff of nightmares. The forced deportation of innocent men, women, and children to face hunger and thirst, disease, torture, and death once they are outside our borders. The agony and death of women who are denied access to lifesaving medical care. The continuing surge in environmental disasters as a result uncontrolled climate change. The hospitalization and death of children from fully preventable childhood infections like polio, whooping cough, tetanus, and measles. The rise in lethal gun violence. War. Prepare yourself because, when it happens, there may be nothing any of us can do to stop it, and no way for us to aid the victims.

What will we do then?

Will we simply harden our hearts against it? Bury our heads in the sand? Pretend that what is happening is acceptable, or necessary, or just? 

"The real weapons of mass destruction

are the hardened hearts of humanity."

~Leonard Cohen~

It is an extraordinary challenge and a privilege, for those of us who care, to tend to people who are suffering. But what about those who don't care? People who choose to ignore, or deny, or dismiss the problem? People, indeed, who cause others to suffer out of a sense of entitlement, arrogance, or greed? What about them?

Do you agree with Thich Nhat Hanh?:

"When another person makes you suffer,

it is because he suffers deeply himself,

and his suffering is spilling over.

He does not need punishment;

he needs help."

~Thich Nhat Hanh~

How do you deal with suffering? How can you help?

jan

thinking ahead to winter

Zermatt, Switzerland

Do you dread winter's arrival? If so, you probably wish today would last forever.

I stepped outside this morning just as the sun came up expecting to feel a chill in the air and a gusty wind in my face. Instead, the day dawned quiet and bright. The sky a deep, clear blue. The remaining foliage bright red and gold. The sun warm and welcoming.

Not a cloud in the sky. Not a breeze.

Not a dog barking in the distance or a plane rumbling overhead. It was silent and still outside. Even the birds--usually so chatty in the morning--seemed to respect Mother Nature's need for a little peace and quiet. This, ahead of a cold front that is working its way in our direction, bringing with it the gusty winds and falling temperatures that will get us thinking ahead to winter.

With that in mind, here is a short passage from my novel, "The Bandaged Place", that describes the change of seasons:

"November takes me by surprise. I should have seen it coming. Like incense over the altar, wood smoke hangs heavy in the air.

There are pumpkins on every porch—Smiley, Goofy, Grumpy, Spooky—so that Middleburg takes on a personality of its own. This is one of those powder puff mornings when the rising sun causes everything to blush. The air is so still that the chimney smoke reaches straight up into the soft pink haze that clings to the treetops. Instead of dew, we awaken to the glitter of frost on the grass, to ice on the windshield, to breath that crystallizes in mid-air. I can tell that snow is on the way. I know it as surely as I know the smell of honeysuckle in May, of fresh cut grass in July, and burning leaves in October.

Summer has surrendered to autumn. Sightseers choke the mountain roads by day and jam the restaurants and bars at night. But these are fair-weather fans. They may extol the glories of blazing foliage and crisp, clean air but they’ll be sure to head home before snow flies, before Mother Nature packs up her palette and heads south leaving behind the soft soothing shades of oatmeal and brown sugar, of seashells and sand, of bone.

Before the sun pales and the sky turns to lead. Before the wind shifts and whistles unchecked through the bare branches, tossing fallen leaves around like the snow that is sure to follow."

Try to enjoy the change of seasons.

*

"I prefer winter and fall,
when you feel the bone structure of the landscape.
Something waits beneath it.
The whole story doesn't show."
~Andrew Wyeth~

*

I'm with Andrew. What about you?

jan