No Small Thing

Posted on November 20, 2024 by admin

Before we can repair our broken selves, first we have to believe it’s even possible. That is no small thing. During the worst time of my life, I struggled just to imagine, much less believe in, the possibility of healing. If we don’t believe healing is possible, then we won’t even try. We’ll slip into bitterness, despair or cynicism, and we will believe instead that we will never be able to let go of what has harmed us.

When my daughter, Amy, died, I lost everything: my faith, my sense of security, my reason to simply be. I could not imagine living day to day in a world without my child. I had a family that needed me, and so, I put one foot in front of the other, but my heart, so broken, wasn’t in it. I simply didn’t know how to repair this level of brokenness in myself, in my family. I went to a counselor. I read books. I would listen for hours to ambient music while embroidering intricate designs. I sat, alone, beside my daughter’s grave in all sorts of weather. I felt bereft, hopeless.

I didn’t get better all by myself. I got better by joining a community. I found other bereaved parents and their stories helped me to believe that although my broken heart might never be the same, it could learn to beat its new, fragile, rhythm. They gave me the gift of believing my life could be better, that some form of healing was possible. I still carry the scars that healing left behind. Sometimes the scar tissue will suddenly pull tightly against my beating heart, reminding me of who I was once and who I am now. 

~Lisa Kiel

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Functional Spirituality

Posted on November 19, 2024 by Bob Patrick

There is a relatively recent development in healthcare called “functional medicine.” As I understand it and am experiencing it, functional medicine seeks the cause of health concerns before trying to treat the symptoms of health concerns. It’s not that a stomach ache can’t be treated, but the functional health practitioner wants to find out what is causing the stomach ache in the first place and treat that cause. 

We can make the same analogy to spirituality. I understand spirituality to be how people make meaning in their lives.  No religion required. From this standpoint, anyone who is attempting to make meaning in their lives is practicing spirituality whether they use that word or not. 

The conflict between groups of people in our nation right now likely comes down to several causes, but one is raising its head for me. Some people look to authority to make meaning in their lives by using it to treat symptoms, and some people look to empathy to make meaning in their lives and address causes. Those who look to authority seem oblivious to how it affects other human beings. They want certain “symptoms” of an imperfect nation to just go away. Those who look to empathy are aware of authority and want to use it to make sure that everyone is safe and secure by addressing the causes of our problems. Making meaning around authority is short-sighted, naturally divisive, and ultimately destructive as it tends only to immediate difficulties. Making meaning around empathy is complicated, requires a long game, but holds real promise for everyone. 

A majority of our population is willing, at least for now, to try and make meaning around authority, treat symptoms, and fail to see that doing so will just create more problems. Perhaps not surprisingly, functional healthcare is also in the smaller voice for now, but it is growing.

Meanwhile, empathy still has its call, its meaning, and can still yield its effects for our nation. Do you hear the call? Are you in for the long game?

~Bob Patrick

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Can You Repair What Isn’t Broken?

Posted on November 18, 2024 by admin

I like mechanical things. They make sense to me. I can look at diagrams, watch them function, and diagnose what is wrong with a strong degree of certainty. There is comfort in feeling confident that I can understand what is wrong and knowing that I have the tools, skills, and materials to fix it.

Sometimes, a machine works differently than I expected but still functions as intended. Sometimes, the machine works correctly but the operator causes unanticipated results. In these situations, I can’t really “fix” the machine. It’s not broken. I can retrain an operator. I can try to modify or adapt the machine, to change my expectations to line up with the new reality, to return it and get a machine that works better, etc.

Is our Nation broken? Is it working as intended? Is it operator error? As one person, I don’t have the power to make the same changes as I could on the factory floor. Lately, I feel pretty powerless. I am committed to living my values in the face of this challenge. I will care for my community in ways that I can. I will advocate for and support those living on the margins. I don’t know if this will “fix” anything. I don’t know if it will change any hearts or minds. I do know that I will continue to live out my values regardless of the outcome.

~Ian Van Sice

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Patched Potholes

Posted on November 15, 2024 by Bob Patrick

One morning you might wake up
to realize that the knot in your stomach
had loosened itself and slipped away,
and that the pit of unfulfilled longing in your heart
had gradually, and without your really noticing,
been filled in—patched like a pothole, not quite
the same as it was, but good enough.

Lynn Ungar, in her poem, “The Way It Is,” speaks of a situation that many of us might still find ourselves longing for–that morning when we wake up to find that we are more at ease, more whole, more connected with life. The events of the recent election and what is now proceeding from it likely leave many of us still unsettled, still ill at ease, still feeling disconnected. 

I also think it’s true that we have past experiences where these words of hers are true and descriptive of what we have lived through.  I particularly identify with the image of patched like a pothole, not quite the same as it was, but good enough. How many patched potholes can we each point to in our lives–not quite the same as it was, but with some distance, good enough?

Repair often happens in our lives like that. Time, and practice, the aid and help of community and individuals, the new insights that come only because of what we have been through all help to patch our life’s potholes. If you pass a hand or heart over the spot, you can still feel the bumps, but not quite the jar and rattling that the hole once made. 

And in that moment it might occur to you
that your life, though not the way
you planned it, and maybe not even entirely
the way you wanted it, is nonetheless—
persistently, abundantly, miraculously—
exactly the way it is.

Repair happens in many ways, and it comes to mean many things for us, but somewhere along the way, in the process of repair, we discover that the way life is right now is my new way of being in the world. It’s been this new way for a while, and as I wonder how I got here, I feel the bumps, the patched potholes, and I remember. The process of what I have been through has brought me to a new place, and it is nonetheless–persistently, abundantly, miraculously–exactly the way it is. 

~Bob Patrick

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What Does Repair Look Like?

Posted on November 14, 2024 by admin

During this crucial time love stands as a motivator for repair as we navigate this path the country has chosen to walk. Many are feeling a sense of fracture and dissonance, while others are buoyed by hope or relief. These waves of response ripple through communities, families, and friendships. Our call to love…to listening… to repair…becomes more important now.

I feel as though our country has chosen short term wealth over its people’s future. I am heartbroken. However, I have chosen to see love as the foundation for my future actions; repair now becomes an act of commitment. I embrace love as an active force that seeks to mend, restore, and reconcile. When faced with disagreement or uncertainty, love asks me to remember our interconnectedness, and the simple truth that what affects one, affects all. 

The United States’ history is filled with moments where division has pulled at the seams, yet there are always those willing to step forward and sew them back together. Today, love calls on me to embrace that role, to tend to the wounds of my friends, my family and my community. It’s a love that seeks to understand rather than to blame, to listen rather than to overpower, to heal rather than to harm. This is the love that motivates repair—to create a space where people feel heard, valued, and supported, even when our perspectives diverge.

At this moment, we may ask ourselves; “what does repair looks like?” Is it a willingness to engage in difficult conversations with compassion? Maybe it’s extending grace to those with whom we disagree or finding common ground amidst political differences, or is it recognizing the gaps in our society—racial, economic, ideological—and committing to understanding them, with equity, and with kindness. 

It is all this and more.

Love doesn’t ask us to deny our differences but to approach them with humility and empathy. When we allow love to motivate our repair, we become part of something larger; a collective movement toward healing, resilience, and hope. We can walk with open hands and hearts, knowing that love is powerful enough to carry us through, to rebuild what has been strained, and to keep us anchored in our shared commitment to the betterment of all.

~Candice Carver

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Two Kinds of Repair

Posted on November 13, 2024 by Bob Patrick

I’m writing this just five days after the election, and I’m finding that most of my energy wants to go down and inside myself. I can find others around me in this same environment who seem to be moved by an energy that takes them out into public and social spaces to engaging actions that feel vital to them. 

Pondering these different responses in the wake of an unsettling event (which may be an understatement for this election), it occurred to me that we have two different uses of the word “repair.” There is the repair as fixing or mending something. And there is an older usage of repair, as in to return to some place. It comes from Latin and French roots that mean to repatriate, to return to one’s own country. 

That word history alone adds a layer of sadness to all that I’m feeling right now.  I suspect that a lot of Americans wish we could return to a country that felt good, safe and whole.  And, there are plenty of Americans who wish that they had experienced a country even once in their lives that felt good, safe and whole.  The fact is, that kind of country in the US has only ever been available to white people with plenty of resources. I know that there is no time in history to return to that was good, safe and whole for all of us. It’s a vision still to be realized. The truth is, we have a history of injustice, inequality, and inequity.

I think that’s why I feel drawn down and inside myself. What we are missing, as a nation, is still to be found, and I think we have to find it within ourselves, first. Then, perhaps, we can practice it between ourselves and others. 

So, I’m going to make up a new word that can also have two meanings. Propair. It means to mend and fix something for the future. And, it means to move toward a country that does not exist yet. 

We have a lot to imagine, to plan, to do. 

~Bob Patrick

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Mending Burned Bridges

Posted on November 12, 2024 by admin

The first time I got married I invited a family friend and her son to the wedding. I had never had an issue with her. I was friends with her son in middle school, but then I moved away and we became estranged. He went into the Navy, and I got married. 

I soon realized that inviting them was a mistake. My mother was not able to make it due to her illness and very few people knew who my mom was. It was afterwards that I found out that this family friend had told people that she was my mother. I wrote her a letter burning the bridge of friendship. I didn’t want to hear her side. I just didn’t want her in my life. 

Almost ten years passed by and her son committed suicide. I found out and reached out to her for a bit to show my sympathy. The bridge was still down, and out of order, but the mending had started. 

I didn’t see her for another few years. I returned home for the holidays and she came to my family’s holiday gathering. We continued to mend the bridge. 

It wasn’t till I got divorced that she and I started to really talk to each other. She would message me; although some in my family didn’t approve of my divorce she was there to make sure I was doing OK. 

When I got married again, I invited her, somewhat reluctantly. She came and was so happy to be invited. She wore her Renaissance dress and fit the theme so well. Later she messaged me and said, “I hope I didn’t embarrass you or mess anything up. It was great to see you and I’m so happy I was part of your big day. I love you.” I didn’t respond, just heart-ed the message. She hadn’t messed up, and my heart hurt because my ego put those expectations on her. 

She passed away recently, and I never got to fully mend that bridge that we burned. But I think it was mended enough to at least cross before she left this world. 

I love you too SHE. 

~Candice Carver

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