Hospice Thoughts

A Hospice Metta

May you be comforted.
May you be at ease.
May you be strong.
May you be free from suffering.

I've been working on the words of metta to fit hospice work.  Health, safety, happiness just didn't seem to be the right things to focus on.  And so I've been trying to think what I most wish for my hospice patients.  Strength instead of fear at the end of life, comfort and relief not pain, the support and comfort of family and friends, even hope for relief and good days though not a cure.

Since the middle of summer, I have been volunteering as a chaplain-in-training at a local hospice residence.  I go for several hours once a week.  As of yet, there has been no formal training beyond initial HIPPA, fire safety, and universal precautions.  I will have official in-service training later this fall, but they had wanted me to start right away.

I have been following various volunteers and the senior chaplain, going on rounds, going to IDT (interdisciplinary team meetings), learning about paperwork (oh, so much paperwork.)  The procedures have been a little overwhelming; there are just so many more patients than my one or two-at-a-time in my other organization.

But it is wonderful to have mentors with their guidance and support.  I've been often alone at my previous place (I'm still seeing my last patient, who is quite amazingly holding on.)  I'm learning new ways to interact with people and beginning to clarify my own style.  The senior chaplain even teste me last week; he had me go into a room, look around, and come back out.  I did and he quizzed me about the spirituality of the patients.  So, I guess absorbing and analyzing visual cues is something hospice and art history have in common.  That, and I'm much more adept at reading symbolism and religious icons than I otherwise would have been.

 One volunteer, who is a Catholic eucharistic minister but not quite a Roman Catholic anymore, has advised me that it's okay to give Catholic blessings with a cross on the patient's forehead.  I haven't been sure about this; indeed, I'm quite unsure.  I think prayers are one thing, but formal blessings in the manner of a priest are outside of my purview.  It seems to me deceitful, as if I could offer what a priest does (leaving belief aside.)  And so I don't.  Prayers, ecumenical blessings, wishes and hopes, listening, comfort, support, presence--these I can do.  For those to whom it has meaning, even "Amazing Grace" and the Lord's Prayer.  I would do similarly for someone who is Jewish or Muslim, etc.

In Unitarian Universalism, the first principle we affirm and promote is the inherent worth and dignity of all people.  And while it's not a principle per se, I would argue that we also support the idea of community.  For me, hospice work is about these UU principles--companioning the individual through the dying process, supporting their family and friends, doing this service for the larger community, so no one is alone.  For myself, I don't believe in heaven or hell, or even an afterlife.  But I know we all die and that it is one of the greatest fears anyone has, for themselves or their loved ones, almost regardless of their religious beliefs. My faith concerns the present, this life on earth, for it is all we know.  And so I sit with my hospice patients--the Catholics, the Jews, the Protestants, even the one Unitarian a few weeks ago--and I wish them peace.

May they be comforted.
May they be at ease.
May they be strong.
May they be free from suffering.

Trying Taizé

A few years ago, I wrote about my interest in singing meditations and mentioned a local Taizé service, which is an evening prayer service of chanting.  I love to sing and had wanted to try the service.  Recently, our old UU church started offering its own Taizé service.  And last night I attended.

It was lovely.  We sat in a semicircle in the darkened sanctuary, facing dozens of lit candles.  We had an order of service with the words to the simple chants included.  And we sang each chant repeatedly, simple tunes that were easy to pick up.  There is something about intoning songs over and over so that the words and sounds become almost abstract.  I found it quite peaceful and meditative, really quite lovely.

My favorite song was the last one, "May All Beings Be Happy," which had verses about being happy, peaceful, and free from suffering, just like metta meditation.  I found the tune on Amazon and will teach it to the kids.

After all the singing (coupled with some prayer, readings, and silent meditation), we all left the sanctuary quietly.  In the parking lot, I said hi to my friends from the old congregation and then headed back home, taking just a little of the peace and quiet with me.

A Prayer for Mama

May she be safe.
May she be happy.
May she be healthy.
May she live with ease.

As I stitched with the maroon yarn she'd chose for her prayer-shawl-inspired blanket, I said metta for Mama.  And now it's all ready for her recovery, a bit warm for late summer, but hopefully comforting nonetheless.

Just plain double crochet in Lion Brand Wool-Ease until it was the right size, then edged in same stitch of differently-colored yarn.

A Prayer for Aurora

May the souls of the Aurora, CO victims be at ease.
May the survivors of the shooting be comforted.
May their family members and friends be comforted.

May the police officers, rescue workers, and medical teams be comforted.
May the Aurora community be comforted.

May the shooter be comforted.

May the family of the shooter be comforted.

May other people who suffered loss, pain,and  illness during this time be comforted.
May people who suffer loss, pain, and illness be comforted.
May the people who help and care for them be comforted.
May we all be at ease and come to the end of suffering.

LovetheKindness

May I be comforted.


May I be at ease.

I've been working on my metta, or lovingkindness, meditation resolves, the phrases I repeat for myself and others, trying to find three or four that really fit for me.  This meditation, more than counting my breath or the body scan or the similar tonglen, speaks to me now, as do the words of the metta sutta, or Buddha's instructions on lovingkindness (particularly the part about loving everyone as a mother loves her only child).  I first read about it in Toni Bernhard's How to Be Sick and have since then read several books by Sylvie Boorstein which include her own metta practice.  Just yesterday, I received Sharon Salzberg's Lovingkindness, which delves deeply into the practice, and Real Happiness, which includes a CD with a guided meditation.  And today, I've just read a wonderful explanatory post by Bernhard over at her blog, "Turning Straw into Gold," on Psychology Today--this is a great place to start if you'd like to learn more and give it a try.  (I'd love to study meditation more formally, with a sangha or on a retreat, such as the Insight Meditation Society in MA co-founded by Salzberg, but current circumstance dictate I do it mostly on my own right now.  Thankfully, there are so many wonderful resources, such as the above, to study.)

I find myself repeating my resolves, and others that I'm trying out, not only during formal meditation periods but almost as prayers, when I hear an ambulance go by ("May they be at ease") or hear about an illness or death ("May they be comforted") or even when I panic or feel discomfort ("May I be at ease.")  I've even led the children through the phrases as we wish health and ease and comfort through expanding concentric circles from ourselves through our friends and family to teachers and doctors and on through people (and penguins and bunnies) we don't know, ending with wishing things for the whole world.  They like it so much that they request it.  I know that's not the formal practice, but I've been trying to integrate my meditation practices and my study of Buddhism into our family life.  We've read Moody Cow Meditates and have our swirling glitter jar to help us quiet our minds when anger arises.  But I wanted something . . . more connected, more kind, more loving.

I think I've found it.

Lovingkindness

I have been unable to write about the devastating Christmas Day fire in Stamford that claimed the lives of three young sisters and their grandparents, while their mother and a family friend, as well as the arriving rescue workers, were unable to help.  And so, with my current reading of Happiness is an Inside Job by Sylvia Boorstein, I offer this metta meditation for them.

May the souls of Lily, Grace, and Sarah be at ease.
May the souls of Lomar and Pauline Johnson be at ease.
May Madonna Badger be comforted.
May Michael Borcina be comforted.
May Matthew Badger be comforted.
May their family members and friends be  comforted.
May the firefighters and other rescue workers be  comforted.
May their Stamford neighbors and community be comforted.
May other people who suffered loss, pain,and  illness during these holidays be comforted.
May people who suffer loss, pain, and illness be comforted.
May the people who help and care for them be comforted.
May we all be at ease and come to the end of suffering.