Journal of Sacred Work

Caregivers have superpowers! Radical Loving Care illuminates the divine truth that caregiving is not just a job. It is Sacred Work.

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John_of_the_cross
On a dark secret night,
starving for love and deep in flame.
..

St. John of the Cross (1542-1591)

   For more than a year now, a dear friend of mine has been "starving for love and deep in flame." For he has been enduring, simultaneously, the pain of a divorce and the threat of financial ruin. His wife has left him for another. He has been struggling to deal with this loss while facing the risk of bankruptcy.
   Finally, he says he is emerging from his darkness. I asked him how he saw the world now compared to before his time of trial. I wondered if he had become bitter. His answer was deeply illuminating…

  "I appreciate each moment now," he told me. "I used to hop up every
morning and race off to work like a mad man. Now, I rise gradually.
Before I go to work, I take a cup of coffee, go out on the porch with
my cats, breathe the air, feel the surroundings. I never would have
done this before."
   My friend has harvested a great flower from a
field that looked completely barren. He has an appreciation of life
that, interestingly, his estranged wife has not yet found.
   As caring people, each of us has experienced many painful loses in our lives. I wonder what each of us learns from loss? For loss is terribly expensive. And when we endure it, we know it will hold many gifts for us if only we will learn to unwrap them.
   Here is a spiritual exercise I have designed for you and me.

  1.    Think about a loss you have experienced. There may have been several. Pick one.
  2.     What did you learn through that loss?
  3.     To what degree do you still practice what you learned?

Bernie_segal
   Noted cancer expert Dr. Bernie Segal 9left) says that none of us ever make major changes unless we experience a traumatic event. Do you believe this is true? If so, why is it that some people fail to change after loss or experience bitterness instead of a major life improvement?
   There are at least three general pathways out of every loss. The first is the path of bitterness. Along this path, we nurture resentment toward whatever it is outside of us that we believe caused the loss. If it was an accident, we may blame the person who caused it. If it was a divorce, we may blame the spouse.
   The second pathway (and the strangest) runs straight ahead and is marked by, essentially, no apparent change in our lives. This happens when people are so hurt by a loss that they fail to absorb it. I see this, sometimes, in people who have been fired. Instead of accepting their termination as a time of darkness from which learning may come, they anesthetize themselves from the loss and march forward as if nothing happened.
   The third pathway is the one my friend is on now. After months of agony, he has decided that this experience will inform his life and make it richer. He is spending more, and better, time with his teenage children. In his mid-forties, he has won a whole new outlook. In his new world, life holds promise. He has discovered a whole new foundation for his life and now walks forward more at peace than he has ever been.
   It seems certain that you are on one of these paths yourself.

  1. Are you walking in the direction you believe is best?
  2. If you wanted to change your pathway, how would you do that?
  3. When will you do that?

-Erie Chapman

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3 responses to “The Dark Night – A Spiritual Exercise”

  1. Karen York Avatar
    Karen York

    When given an option, most of us would not choose to suffer a loss of any kind (well, maybe a few pounds, gray hair and wrinkles – but that’s a whole other meditation). Yet I agree that I have learned from and reshaped my living because of my experience through grieving. Coming through the loss as your friend is doing, is the most courageous and healing of the paths you have described. Because of a very powerful loss I have experienced, I have learned compassion and empathy for a group of people that I had judged before. I have learned to love more openly and freely the people in my close circle of relationships, and to extend kindness more readily to people I randomly pass in the street. Loss is part of the recipe of a rich life. Yeah, I’ll still step around it if I can, but know full well, that trudging through is sometimes the only option toward healing.

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  2. Tom Knowles-Bagwell Avatar
    Tom Knowles-Bagwell

    Well, Erie, you know that I am also in the midst of a loss and transition right now. And it is interesting to me that the three paths you describe are all clearly present before me. I laughed with a friend a couple of days ago that I’d found myself fluxuating between each of these responses, and that that was my version of “bi-polar disorder.”
    It seems to me that at the core of the choice is the realization that in addition to something external that is lost, I must also let go of some aspect of myself that I’ve wanted to claim as more precious than it really is. Regardless, it feels like a part of myself is dying sometimes. That’s what makes the paths of bitterness or obliviousness so attractive.
    One of the things that I have been allowing myself through my own process is the comfort and companionship of friends. For an extreem introvert, that is quite a challenge. But I find that they remind me that I can be angry without lingering in it, and hurt without being overwhelmed by it. These are the things that help me move on to the path of transformation like your friend, Erie. I hope to stay on that path as much as I can stand it.

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  3. liz Wessel Avatar
    liz Wessel

    I recall saying a prayer or two for your friend so I am joyful to learn he has come through his difficulties to experience life anew. I love the questions you pose that stimulate our thinking about what holds deeper meaning for us in living.
    My greatest loss and sorrow has been when a beloved one dies. Suddenly, I am awakened from a dreamlike state to the crystal clear understanding of what really matters, jolted back to remembering only Love is real. At the time, I experience a heightened awareness through my senses, noticing how blue the sky is or how cool water feels as I splash my face. Gradually, the moment of clarity begins to fade and the veil once lifted, falls again.
    I feel my life shifting on so many levels and all at once. I am losing my comfort zone, a storybook dream of together in forever after. I resist letting go, hold tight my illusionary cushions of security. A friend gave me a book to read called, “Who Moved My Cheese” by Spenser Johnson MD. I had forgotten about it, and then I came across it this weekend, reading it at just the right time.
    It helps to remember that with life’s continual changing nature and the challenges placed before me, is the perfect lesson to be learned. If only I pay attention, and as you say, however disguised, realize there is a true gift just waiting to be unwrapped.
    I find a daily devotion to spiritual practices (meditation, this Journal) assist me in awakening again, again, and again. Today I know I must let go of what has been, to greet the mystery of Love’s unfolding in creation. Today I live in awareness of all Love’s precious gifts that grace my life and I am grateful to dear ones who offer little pearls of wisdom to help illuminate my way.

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