Today’s meditation was written by Cathy Self, Senior Vice-President for the Baptist Healing Trust.
"We cannot despair of humanity, since we ourselves are human beings." – Albert Einstein.
I recently heard a fellow caregiver lament she felt like she was becoming a robot. Her days are filled 
with expectations from others that are focused on tasks and outputs, with no room for treating each other with warmth or dignity. "It’s normal to hear ads on TV that beseech us to treat our animals humanely," she shared, "but maybe we need to start reminding ourselves that WE are human and also need to be treated humanely." Her words have ricocheted through my heart for days.
A speaker at a class day for a group of soon-to-be doctors shared some wonderful thoughts about being human, words that seem especially meaningful in the context of caregiving. Joyce Johnson, in her address to a graduating class of medical students, suggested that being human implies, first of all, that we are fundamentally the same as our patients in every way that matters. Listening to the stories our patients and clients tell us, striving to understand their story and its place in their lives and value systems is critical. We, too, someday will fall, will grow old, will become ill, and we will also have a story to tell. Being human means we have limitations, just like those we serve; and just like them, we will make mistakes – all of us. And we all need self-care. In its simplest terms, self care includes physical rest, balanced nutrition, and right exercise. But it also means nurturing our spirit, and giving expression to all that is creative within us. A mystery of being human is the need to find meaning. For many of us, finding meaning in our work does not change the facts of our lives; it changes the way we see our lives. And that makes all the difference. This is quite a shopping list in our quest for humanity.
In that quest, many of us share a desire to achieve wholeness. I recently came across the notion that re-membering is just that. Some portion of our life has become "dis-membered" and re-membering is actually the act of restoring our selves to wholeness. Although none of us can achieve perfect wholeness in all ways in this life, Joyce Johnson suggests that the road to wholeness is the place where we can best serve the miracle of healing for our patients and for ourselves. For, as we know, healing is not something that we do; it occurs in the encounter and emerges from the gifts of Love. Believing that opens a door to the possibility of serving without growing weary.
It may be from our attempts to be "super" human, or trying to be more than we can ever really be, that causes us to experience times of fatigue and despair. Our striving to do one more thing, to answer one more call, to respond with one more yes fractures our very souls from our being, and we become dis-membered. Too many years have gone by for me to remember the words of my application essay when I first sought to enter clinical training. Surely in those words was an expressed call to compassionate caring, service, and devotion. I doubt I was courageous enough in my youth to speak of Love. Do you remember the earliest stirrings in your spirit responding to a call to serve?
What would it be like to write an essay today? Can you picture yourself in that place again, capturing the anticipation, excitement, hopes, and dreams for becoming a healer? What might your Love song have spoken then, and what does it say today?
Journal of Sacred Work 
Leave a reply to ~liz Wessel Cancel reply