Journal of Sacred Work

 "Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it."–Mahatma Gandhi

 I was just a child when I first realized that someday I would die. I could not fathom how the world could possibly go on without me, for surely,  the earth would stop turning on its axis!

 At 18, being young and adventurous, I quit my job and traveled with my best friend,  Susan. Upon  return, I visited an elderly woman I had cared for while working at the Brattleboro Retreat. To my great disappointment, she did not remember me. I wondered, how could this be? When I left her, I had a good cry.

 While in nursing school (age 21) I moved in with family friends to help care for Margie. She was dying from cancer. I thought about my own eventual non-being on this earth. At the time, I imagined a void of  complete nothingness, which was beyond my comprehension.  Elizabeth Kubler-Ross opened a window to my understanding of how death gives meaning to life.

 I have been working in N. CA for the past few months. On a recent weekend home, I attended a social event at my faith community.  In conversation with a fellow parishioner it was apparent that he was not aware I had been away.  I felt a little heart pang when I  realized I had not been missed.

 Each of these occurrences, though small, were poignant moments in my life. Although embarrassingly ego-based, they had one thing in common; they all accentuated an awareness of my insignificance.

 October 24, 2010 marked the one-year anniversary of Dr. Stanley vandenNort’s death and we gathered to remember him and to celebrate his life. At the church service the pastor asked, “What is the question of your life? A questioned surfaced for me, what is the significance of my life?
After mass, we met at the vandenNoort home. We gathered in an inclusive circle of family, patients and friends. We  shared personal stories of how this man's  impact on each of us was bigger than life. Why, because Dr. V lived Love. He was a man driven…by Love. He was humble,  down to earth and extremely generous with his time and attention. He gave himself unreservedly to people he cared for. His extraordinary compassion and humor complimented his brilliant mind and skillful science. His beneficence knew no bounds. One by one, we acknowledged that there was something unique, miraculous even, about Dr. V’s caregiving. When we came full circle,  a man returned to the pastor’s question  and passionately affirmed that Dr. V’s life was significant.

 I knew I had just heard the answer to my life’s question.  Although, this man was speaking about  Dr. V, I believe it was also a message for me. (I love how God speaks to me through the voice of others). I realize that my life is a mere flicker of a flame compared to Dr. V’s brilliance. It is not my aim to compare. More, to honor his memory  as I grapple with life's impermanence and my own feelings of insignificance. 

For all of us, for those we love, or have loved, for all who are missed or not, long remembered or only in passing, forgotten or insignificant. The truth is, every moment we  Love our life has significance.

~liz Sorensen Wessel

 The following video is by Kevin Champion made for his Digital Ethnography class at Kansas State University (Dr. Mike Wesch – Spring, 2009). In it, Kevin attempted to layout what has been called the "crisis of significance" that we may sometimes experience in our world today.