awake

A friend commented recently that she thinks only a small percentage of people are living life awake. This may be on purpose or not. But I think it's true. I've been thinking about it ever since.

My patient tonight was sleepy when I opened the door to her room. I talked softly; telling her what I was going to do. She moved slightly as I uncovered her a little. When I was finished recording her vital signs and drawing some labs, I lifted her arm and covered her up again with the heavy white blankets. As I did, she stirred again; the kind of stirring where I realized she had completely drifted back to sleep in the few minutes it took me to complete my simple tasks. After being covered, I could see she was comfortable again. Wasn't about to wake up. Sound asleep. No longer knew I was standing there. I turned off the lights and closed the door.

And I thought again about this idea of living awake. Even when things are going on all around us, as they were for my patient- it doesn't necessarily mean we wake up. Or want to wake up. It's so much easier to sleep, to numb away the hard things, let the uncomfortable things pass by without dealing with them. Or even being aware of them. We get good at this- the act of forgetting, not noticing, proceeding forward, absent in some way. We don't mind being naive or apathetic. Sometimes, when too many things threaten to take over, I think about how I wish I could just go to sleep until it's over.

But I want to appreciate living awake. I want to be intentionally present in all the details. Even if it's painful. Or uncomfortable without heavy blankets to hide under. I don't want to be numb or absent from any part of my life.

drops of joy

It started with a gray sky. Then a few drops of rain fell. Then more, and more, until we found ourselves in the midst of a complete downpour. At first, it seemed like any other rainy afternoon in Cambodia during the rainy season. One minute it was sunny with a few clouds, the next minute the rain poured down. But this particular day was different. The rain hit my face. It soaked my shoulders. My dry hair was drenched, and it came down, harder, and harder... and harder. It poured down the front of my shirt, and as we rode home on the back of the little moped, I started to laugh. The rain tickled my skin, my ears, my face. I was completely saturated, and it just kept coming. And I laughed harder. I couldn’t stop laughing, until the tears ran from my eyes, mixing with the raindrops which already covered my face. I remember not even being sure of what it was that caused me to laugh until I cried. It was like the absurdity of the whole thing overtook me until I couldn’t control my emotions. I was living in a hard place, and the frequent rain was just one more thing. Yet on that day the rain and gray skies weren’t discouraging- although the rest of my week might have been. I remember God showing up in those ten minutes, reminding me that in the midst of it all, I was living- and living fully engaged and alive. It was a tangible reminder about beauty and hope in the mundane, wet, dirty, and messy pieces of life.

I have been swimming in my thoughts lately. Feeling discouraged sometimes too. Wondering what God is doing in me, and how He will choose to use my messy and imperfect life. Today I sat for awhile at Mt. Tabor park, under the tall trees and gray of the Portland sky. Then rain started to fall. Only a few drops at first; but soon it was another downpour. My clothes were stuck to my skin, my hair was dripping, and in the warm air I was reminded of that day in Cambodia. I smiled as I was reminded again of the deep joy and hope which lie in the midst of the gray and wet.

on the way

i am just another traveler
in this little piece of time
i’m a drifter, i’m a seeker
waking to this thing called life
and i struggle like a baby for each little step i take
learning how to walk on the way

i am losing the familiar i’m not sure of anything
every new day it’s a new world that’s quick to steal my dreams
but the path of resistance
wasn’t meant for me to take
i’m learning who i am on the way

still i fall and you reach
i am foolish, so you teach
i wander but you stay
by my side on the way

this was not what i expected it’s not everything i planned
but there’s beauty in this mystery
i don’t have to understand
but i just have to keep on moving
not with vision but with faith
i’m learning how to see on the way

still i fall and you reach
i am foolish, so you teach
i wander but you stay
by my side on the way

so i feel these blessed burdens
and these weights upon my feet
no one said it would be easy
or that i’d ever find my peace
but i’m moving with assurance
through these fears and sweet mistakes
i’m learning how to live on the way

on the way,
elizabeth hunnicutt

because justice matters

love BECAUSE darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. and all of life is interrelated because all men are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be, and you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be. Martin Luther King Jr. therefore, you shalt not be a victim. you shalt not be a perpetrator. above all, you shalt not be a bystander. Yehuda Bauer. the trouble is that once you see it, you can’t unsee it. and once you’ve seen it, keeping quiet, saying nothing, becomes as political an act as speaking out. either way, you’re accountable. Arundhati Roy. so listen because JUSTICE is conscience, not a personal conscience but the conscience of all of humanity. those who clearly recognize the voice of their own conscience usually recognize also the voice of justice. Alexander Solzhenitsyn. act in love knowing that in this life we cannot do great things. we can only do small things with great love. but it is not the magnitude of our actions but the amount of love that is put into them that MATTERS. Mother Teresa. and in the end justice will rise up and hope and history will rhyme. Seamus Heaney.

(thanks Juice!)