Tag: hospice chaplain

I miss who I once was

There was a time, many years ago, back when we lived in Utah, that my energy was entirely peaceful. That was a conscious choice and something I diligently strived to achieve. You see, as a hospice chaplain I entered hundreds of homes where patients and families dealt with the final stages of terminal illness. They did not need gregarious, over the top energy, they needed calm. It was important to convey a quiet presence when I entered a families sacred space. Therefore, I would spend hours training myself to be still; closing my eyes, slowing my breathing and repeating the mantra, “Relax, don’t worry, everything will be alright.” That was so many years ago. Now it is hard to believe that is who I used to be. These days stress is ever present, sucking my soul dry and grinding down my will to live. I can’t relax, I don’t enjoy what I do and I certainly don’t provide peace to those I meet. The man I cherished being has been lost to a swath of hazy memories. We are born to die, and losing our innocence is part of the bargain. I accept my fate but, oh how I wish I could go back. I miss who I once was, and never will be again.

Almost a chaplain again

4:58pm, in my apartment, Chandler, Arizona, Sunday afternoon, December 05, 2021. My phone pinged when I got back from an afternoon walk. The on-call nurse asked me to give her a call. A patient’s family requested a chaplain visit and she couldn’t get a hold of anyone. I told her to give the chaplains time to respond and if neither did I would see the patient. One of them called back just as I was heading out. I was almost a hospice chaplain again.

Time and Place

6:08am apartment Friday morning, Arizona. When I was in utah I was wedded to that place. My body pulsated with power. I was invigorated by the energy, the sites, the feeling of existing in a perfect moment. In utah my job completely defined me. I was the unaffiliated Hospice chaplain from wyoming and I was proud. That feeling came to an end January, 2008. the job ended in 2009. I left utah in 2012. To this day my heart and soul still belong to that time, that place, that job. Now, I have been in exile one way or another for almost 14 years. I still pine for that place, that job, that time but I don’t feel the pull to go back to utah as strongly as I once did. So much time has passed and there is no hope to see the WIL. I guess Orange County is home now but it isn’t the same, it isn’t ethereal like utah. Maybe it will be someday. After all, I despised high school but when I graduated I missed the time and place terribly. Maybe when I look back at Orange County I will realize it is the place I am supposed to be all along. We will see. I guess nothing will ever be utah again. If that is the case at least I got to feel that great one time in my life.

Writing

9:36am We are getting ready to leave for the activity center. It should be a fun time. Right now I am thinking about the creative pursuit of writing and what I do for work. I have come up with a new perspective. In the summer of 2002, well before my daughter was born, my wife and I moved to Valencia, California from Evanston, Wyoming. My wife kept her corporate position but I quit my job as a religious consultant for the state of Wyoming. We moved so I could be an actor and my wife could be closer to family. It was a rash adventurous decision we made as newlyweds who were sure we could conquer the world. The move was not free of tension. My wife was supportive but skeptical. While she looked forward to spending time with her sisters she wasn’t sure of my new plan for work. But I was confident. I envisioned myself auditioning for parts and easily getting jobs to pay my share of the bills. As soon as I got to California I began submitting headshots. I auditioned for some student films and got some parts but not nothing else. By the fall I realized I had neither the drive nor the talent to be a successful actor. I wasn’t terribly heartbroken. I tried and it didn’t work out. I accepted the failure but was left with a creative void. I needed to find a new pursuit. 3:09pm hanging out at the activity center, picking up where I left off. I decided I was going to be a writer. It wasn’t too much of a reach. Starting years earlier in seminary I had written some stories and started a novel. In fact I had just finished an autobiography of my youth titled “The Journey and the Destination.” In the moment I was happy. Writing was my new identity. This is noteworthy because it was during what I consider the most vibrant period of my life i.e. the time I was a hospice chaplain. In reality being a hospice chaplain was not my career choice. It was the job I did to support myself while I wrote. I loved being a chaplain. I cherish the time but I identified as a writer more than a chaplain. Just saying that reduces my anxiety. It changes how I approach work and purpose. For so long I have viewed my situation as facing a choice between sales/operations or being a chaplain. In reality I am facing a choice between sales/operations and writing. I know who I am, what I want to be. I want to be a writer. I am a writer. I simply realize I can’t expect writing to produce sustainable income. So the question I ask is, “What do I want to do to support myself while I write?”

Monastery mornings

7:05am I checked the Salt Lake Tribune and noticed there was a new book coming out called “Monastery Mornings: My Unusual Boyhood Among the Saints and Monks.” The Author is Michael O’Brien. An attorney in Salt Lake City. The book is about his trips to Holy Trinity Abbey in Huntsville, Utah. I have written about the monastery before. (Side note: I need to start adding tags to posts) I often visited the monastery with my mother and on my own when I was a hospice chaplain in Utah. It closed four years. I still cry realizing I can’t go to the chapel and sit in contemplation.

Low key and a glimpse

10:28am I drove to the office this morning to work on a presentation for tomorrow. As I drove I thought about chaplaincy, sales and operations. The three jobs I have had in my twenty two plus year career. Being the hospice chaplain was far and away the best. Sales were far and away the worst. I miss being the chaplain. I am relieved I don’t do sales. Operations aren’t bad. But not my passion. I am not a hard charger. A visitor who interviewed me for this job described me as “low key.” I get that a lot. “Quiet” “low key” “calm presence” those are good traits for a Chaplain, not as much for a leader. Definitely not good traits for sales. As I pulled into the office I had a glimpse of remembering what it felt like to be the chaplain. To not worry about job security. To not be constantly scared of reprimand or dismissal.