Journal of Sacred Work

    Today’s meditation was written by Cathy Self, Senior Vice President for the Baptist Healing Trust.

     Erie Chapman has often noted "our problem is that we forget to remember." This past  Monday and the writings in this week’s journal have provided space and time for us to remember to remember. In a time of reflection and reading, I came across an article about mindfulness, and the call to be mindful again, and again. In that article was a reference to Calvin Trillin, a writer I have not visited in some time.

     American journalist, humorist, and novelist Tillin is noted, among other things, for his tributes written to his wife and especially for his book About Alice. Throughout their 36-year marriage, Trillin frequently wrote about his wife, noting her wonderful sense of humor, her style, and her sense of wonder so like a child’s. In an interview with the Seattle Times, Calvin answered the reporter’s question on the oddity of being a "funny guy talking about such a solemn subject so close to your own heart." Calvin’s response was characteristically odd-funny: "The hard part’s when I get questions that I don’t know anything about, like about making a good marriage. I can’t believe people are actually good or bad at it. I think mainly you just meet the right people. It’s not satisfying to people to tell them that luck has a lot to do with it, but in fact I think it’s true. So that’s my advice: Wander into the right party. Just that. It’s like the advice I give about childrearing: Try to get one that doesn’t spit up. The rest is up to you." Beyond such a quirky quote, however, is a man whose musings have caused more than one to wish for the kind of love he seemed to have for his wife.

     The author of the article I was reading suggested what seems to separate Trillin from so many others is mindfulness. The author, Mark Ralls, then makes these observations: Trillin "was mindful of Alice, so his delight in her presence remained undimmed." Ralls then says some things about mindfulness I found to be insightful.

     "Mindfulness," writes, Ralls, "is a divine attribute that has received little theological attention. Perhaps this is because it is so easily absorbed into the broader category of love. The distinction I would suggest is this: Mindfulness is love that resists distraction (italics added). It is a staunch refusal to fall into absentmindedness. It is focused, sustained attention toward the beloved. In this way, mindfulness seems less tied to the cognitive functions of the mind and closer to what we call an act of will. Mindfulness is choosing to cherish and then choosing – again and again – never to back away from that initial decision. Devoted spouses, dedicated friends, caring parents are all mindful of the ones they love." Have you felt that presence, that mindfulness from someone? If you have, you know beyond doubt of your belovedness.

     I was so moved as I reflected on these words, especially as I remembered to remember you, dear caregivers. Ralls uses the example of Jesus and describes him as "divine mindfulness incarnate. The perculiar thing about Jesus’ mind was that it was always directed toward others", writes Ralls. "He noticed those who were forgotten. He cherished those who were despised."

     Of course, we have that opportunity to make that same choice, again and again. And you do. What I so love is the mind picture painted by the author’s words – sustained attention toward the beloved, choosing to cherish, choosing again and again. And aren’t those who come to us for care truly among those we would choose to call beloved? The power we carry to bring healing into the lives of the unlovely, the broken, and wounded is difficult to grasp at times, and in fact I feel humbled at the thought. We who have been Loved are called to love – to  be mindful of one another. Imagine the power of hearing a nurse say at the bedside – "if I could have chosen from all of the patients in this world, I would have chosen you." I know you do that every day, maybe not with those words but surely with your touch, your smile, your gaze.

    Let our problem not be that we forget to remember. Let’s continue to find ways to remember to remember, and let’s choose again, and again.