Mother's Prayer A Mother's Prayer

A very thin line
Of invisible ink
Beyond which
There's no return

The farthest reaches
Of the human mind
Cannot comprehend
What lies behind
The darkly shroud

Death was kind to her
A much needed rest
After a long rough ride
No fears no regrets
Just looking back
With a kindly eye
She waved goodbye
With a gentle smile

Now descending alone
Into the bowel
Of dark cold earth
Sealed by a rock

Over the vast expanse
Of time and space
I hear the echoes
Of Calvary Hill
On this day of Passion
A double death-blow

But the earth can't defy
What heaven declares
Nor can the grave
Hold back
The seed of life

Here we all stand
On snowy ground
The world of tombs
Bear silent witness
To lives lived and
Deaths mourned

Beside her resting place
A lone birch tree
Tells its silent tales
Of falling leaves
Weeping in the wind
But whispers to my ears
The return of spring

Wandering through
The fantasy land
Of gracious living
Desperately seeking
A golden moment

Then by chance
I stumble upon
The face of tomorrow
Just beyond
The setting sun

The world looked on Henri Nouwen as one who had achieved, a great man, author of over twenty books, a talented professor who had served at Yale and Harvard. But for Henri it wasn't enough. The last ten years of his life were spent at Daybreak, Jean Vanier's l'Arche community in Toronto, Canada, where the concepts of his books finally met hard reality. At Daybreak he took care of a profoundly retarded young man named Adam. When someone suggested that he could delegate that responsibility, Nouwen retorted, "It is I, not Adam, who gets the main benefit from our friendship." Henri made no more sense to the secular mind than his Master, and this is true greatness.

Henri Nouwen died in September 1996.

Real care is not ambiguous. Real care excludes indifference and is the opposite of apathy. The word "care" finds its roots in the Gothic "Kara" which means lament. The basic meaning of care is: to grieve, to experience sorrow, to cry out with. I am very much struck by this background of the word care because we tend to look at caring as an attitude of the strong toward the weak, of the powerful toward the powerless, of the have's toward the have-not's. And, in fact, we feel quite uncomfortable with an invitation to enter into someone's pain before doing something about it.

Still, when we honestly ask ourselves which persons in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not-knowing, not-curing, not-healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is the friend who cares.

You might remember moments in which you were called to be with a friend who had lost a wife or husband, child or parent. What can you say, do, or propose at such a moment? There is a strong inclination to say: "Don't cry; the one you loved is in the hands of God." "Don't be sad because there are so many good things left worth living for." But are we ready to really experience our powerlessness in the face of death and say: "I do not understand. I do not know what to do but I am here with you." Are we willing to not run away from the pain, to not get busy when there is nothing to do and instead stand rather in the face of death together with those who grieve? . . .

Our tendency is to run away from the painful realities or to try to change them as soon as possible. But cure without care makes us into rulers, controllers, manipulators, and prevents a real community from taking shape. Cure without care makes us preoccupied with quick changes, impatient and unwilling to share each other's burden. And so cure can often become offending instead of liberating. It is therefore not so strange that cure is not seldom refused by people in need. Not only have individuals refused help when they did not sense a real care, but also oppressed minorities have resisted support, and suffering nations have declined medicine and food when they realized that it was better to suffer that to lose self-respect by accepting a gift out a non-caring hand. . . .

. . . Every human being has a great, yet often unknown, gift to care, to be compassionate, to become present to the other, to listen, to hear and to receive. If that gift would be set free and made available, miracles could take place. Those who really care can receive bread from a stranger and smile in gratitude, can feed many without even realizing it. Those who can sit in silence with their fellowman not knowing what to say but knowing that they should be there, can bring new life in a dying heart. Those who are not afraid to hold a hand in gratitude, to shed tears in grief, and to let a sigh of distress arise straight from the heart, can break through paralyzing boundaries and witness the birth of a new fellowship, the fellowship of the broken. . . .

To care means first of all to empty our own cup and to allow the other to come close to us. It means to take away the many barriers which prevent us from entering into communion with the other. When we dare to care, then we discover that nothing human is foreign to us, but that all the hatred and love, cruelty and compassion, fear and joy can be found in our own hearts. When we dare to care, we have to confess that when others kill, I could have killed too. When others torture, I could have done the same. . . .

By the honest recognition and confession of our human sameness we can participate in the care of God who came, not to the powerful but powerless, not to be different but the same, not to take our pain away but to share it. Through this participation we can open our hearts to each other and form a new community.

Here's a philosophy that sounds very down-to-earth, very praiseworthy, and yet can be hugely self-defeating.

I can only have that which I have earned.

It sounds very laudable, and many people have been raised with that philosophy. It seems to say that one will not try to "get over," or get anything that one does not deserve, a concept that some recent CEOs could have benefited from adopting. I believe that when it is taught, usually by parents to their children, that is the intention. Unfortunately, however, it can all too easily become self-limiting. It can extend itself so that one is "telling" the universe that one will not accept miracles. One will not be open to that occasional incredible stroke of luck that can strike the deserving and the undeserving alike, from time to time. Only the "sweat of one's brow" is allowed to earn rewards.

Sometimes it does feel as if life is like that. It feels as if we have to labor away for little more than the bare minimum. Then we read about the huge sums of money that have "disappeared" from some people's retirement funds into the bank accounts of assorted corporate officers, and we feel reinforced in the belief that wealth comes only at the expense of others, and probably only if accompanied by a severely limited conscience. If may feel as though we cannot do good, be good AND get rich. This is a bit like the attitude of the "poor dad" in the book Rich Dad, Poor Dad.

There is, of course, the opposite view, which can be almost as self-destructive, and that is the philosophy that one is "entitled." Whatever one can get, by whatever means and at whatever cost to other people, one is entitled to get, and there should not be any expectation of one making a contribution in order to get it.

There is a big difference between this feeling of entitlement and the attitude that one is willing to work but is still open to all the good things that may come from a friendly universe. It's a bit like the three bears of the Goldilocks story - one is too extreme in one direction, and another is equally extreme in the opposite direction, whereas the third is probably "just right."

It is sad to limit oneself to the point of mentally refusing the idea of any form of good luck. People with this philosophy tend to be the ones who live lives of "quiet desperation." They see no way out. If someone attempts to brainstorm their options with them they have a reason for "why not" to every idea. They tend to lose hope, to see a flower bed as something to be weeded rather than a source of beauty, and to have stopped looking for any alternative way to live or think.

On the other side are the folks who see no reason why they should make valid contributions to society in any form. They seem to believe that they are entitled to all that is good, when they have it they often don't feel that it is good enough, and yet they are unwilling to extend themselves, to make greater contributions. In extreme cases they do not care that what they are taking is at the expense of other people who have worked hard to earn what is now taken away from them. I feel sad for these people, too, because, although they may appear to be living the good life and to be getting away with their sometimes ill-gotten gains, I believe that in the long run, either in this life or later on, they will discover their emptiness.

Somewhere between the two lies that "just right" philosophy, in which the individual certainly believes in contributing, in working hard toward what goals s/he sees as important, but is also open to the lucky moment, the right connection made at just the right time, the bolt from the blue. We cannot count on such things happening, but there is nothing wrong with leaving the door open for them. I believe strongly that it is our mental (and perhaps spiritual) attitudes that attract these gifts from the universe. For those who agree, and those who struggle to open their minds to these ideas but have difficulty with them, I recommend the book The Science of Getting Rich. You can obtain a free copy from the website. This book is less money-grubbing than the title sounds, but it deals with our mental attitudes - it is a timeless and priceless little book.

For more reading, if your thoughts tend to be self-limiting, either one of the first two books below might be useful to you. For a discussion of how we can live right, live ethically, when the decisions is hard, see the third one, How Good People Make Tough Choices

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RECOMMENDED READING

The Quest for Authentic Power: Getting Past Manipulation, Control, and Self Limiting Beliefs
by G. Ross Lawford

"This book is the most fundamental rethinking of the nature of power. The prevailing view of power is that it is authority, control, strength, and status, whereas this book looks at 'authentic power' as the ability to inspire others, the ability to heal, and as 'quality of being'.

Breaking Free to Health, Wealth & Happiness: 100's of Powerful Ways to Release Limiting Beliefs
by Anne Brewer

"For centuries there have been philosophical discussions on the reasons why some people have the better things in life and others do not. Anne Brewer claims that it's our limiting beliefs that block us from having everything we want in life. Anne comes from the perspective that limiting beliefs cause us to create and then dis-create, e.g. 'I want the perfect mate, but there's no one eligible. I want financial stability, but I believe money is the root of all evil. I want harmony in my life, but I believe teenagers are nothing but trouble.' She believes that statements like these are the root causes of our limitations in life. Anne Brewer helps people repattern their subconscious thinking through a process that removes beliefs which no longer serve them."

How Good People Make Tough Choices: Resolving the Dilemmas of Ethical Living
by Rushworth M. Kidder

"After reading a variety of books on ethics and ethical decision making, this one stood out for its clarity of thinking and superb examples. A book that makes you think about your life and how you choose when the choice is hardest of all: between right and right."

c. Diana Robinson, Ph.D. Work in Progress may be reproduced in its entirety only, including this copyright line. Disclaimer -The contents herein are solely the opinions of Work in Progress owner, and should not be considered as a form of therapy nor advice. There is no guarantee of validity or accuracy. If expert assistance or counseling is needed, services of a competent professional should be sought. TO SUBSCRIBE to Work in Progress send a blank e-mail to workinprogress-On@lists.webvalence.com.

www.ChoiceCoach.com
Excerpted from Out of Solitude.