Where to get the goods . . . .

For those of you interested in reading my fledgling sermons, you may read them here. Remember--they sound better than they read . . . .

Ah, vanity . . .I need to chuck it out the window. And thank you, Dave, for having read my first on your own free will.

Gratefulness--feels pretty damn good.

"When you have reached the point where you no longer expect a response, you will at last be able to give in such a way that the other is able to receive, and be grateful."

-Dag Hammarskjold
Markings, 1951

Hospital Musings

One of the main methods of psychotherapy that we've been studying is Carl Rogers' "Client-Centered Therapy." You let your patient lead . . .the topics of conversation present themselves naturally, and you're only role is to reflect comments and demonstrate unconditional positive regard while utilizing empathic listening and maintaining the million dollar word: congruence.

So to speak of themes . . .I had 2 patients today initiate the theme of my single status:

Pt: "So, are you married?"

Me: "No. I'm single."

Pt: "What? A girl like you shouldn't be single. No, no, no."

Me: (This is where I pause and think of some way to redirect the conversation.)

Pt: "I have a son. He lives in Florida, but he's single . . . ." And on it goes.

Why am I writing this? Because I find it fascinating. These two visits today were with women in their late 70s, and this is not the first time that I've run into this at the hospital . . .they genuinely see my singleness as something that needs to be fixed. Another line that was given to me was "Oh, a girl like you can't go to waste. Absolutely not." And I find this funny because the last thing I've done is intentionally waste my life away. . . .

I know, I know--cultural and generational differences. But still, why so much talk about it today? And then to top it all off, at volleyball tonight the ref (is that what they're called in volleyball?) pulls me aside at the end of our match and makes a point to show me a picture of his girlfriend on his cell phone, because apparently I look just like her (she's in Oklahoma, FYI). A little awkward. I made some joke about how she must be the girl people are referring to when they say to me, "Haven't I met you before?" and made my exit.

I guess this is the adventure one encounters as a single woman in her late 20s. I should embrace it.

Alas, procrastination.

A mind-blowing day . . . . I've never felt so on the edge of something vocationally, but today I ventured into a conversation with a co-chaplain and he shared a dream/vision he has had on his heart for some time now regarding opening a shelter in the Oconomowoc area for women and children experiencing abuse (a hushed but prevalent problem in the area). I listened to his still-forming hopes for the place and bounced a few ideas off of him. He has yet to see the full picture (which he feels he needs before acting--understandable), but when he does . . .I'm there. No hesitation on my part whatsoever. I think of all the healing that could begin with a big house on the lake . . .meeting with women in canoes and exploring life experiences out on the water . . .the kids having the lake to swim and fish in . . .big rooms to facilitate circles in for group therapy . . .with smaller rooms for reflection. Prayer/meditation rooms . . .yoga . . .some sort of education/training element. And if one can legally get away with it, a dog for pet therapy. It's pregnant (as my CPE supervisor would say) with potential.

Wow.

God, make the full picture known. Please include me in it.

An almost month of silence.

Greetings from what is a fabulous day in Scony. Low 70s, sunshine. I got to sleep in this morning and eat frozen custard this afternoon . . .life is fairly good with one dog beside me on the bed and the other at the foot of it. We're all resting and enjoying the quiet of the day.

I could go on about what I'm learning in CPE--all that business about diving into my inner self. Or I could go on about preaching last weekend in a church that I absolutely love. Or maybe . . .I could just not.

"If only I may grow: firmer, simpler--quieter, warmer." -Dag Hammarskjold, Markings, 1953