So What Is Resilience Anyway? ...

We have the human capacity to become resilient, which allows

us to deal with the bombardment of events causing so much stress.

And in dealing with these events we become stronger, more confident in our abilities, more sensitive to the stress others are

experiencing and even more able to bring about change to minimize or eradicate sources of stress ...      

Edith Grotberg

Hi everyone! Welcome to our new year-long focus on the art of resilience. There will be posts on other things from time to time, as issues shimmer into my awareness, but resilience will be at the heart of our musings for 2014.

During the years my husband and I walked by the lake in the very early hours of the morning, we frequently enjoyed deep, questioning conversations about a broad range of topics - personality development, spirituality, nature, music, politics, art, literature and many others (- in between the more mundane ones about schedules, meal planning and the odd argument or two!). When either of us presented a question, the other invariably asked some variation of, "Well, it depends on what you mean by that? You need to define your terms." So, that's what I want to do today - to define our term, resilience.

The Oxford English Dictionary defines resilience as:

The ability of a substance or object to spring back into shape; elasticity; or the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.

Linda Graham, author of Bouncing Back: Rewiring Your Brain for Maximum Resilience and Well-Being offers a slightly different definition:

The capacity to respond to pressures and tragedies quickly, adaptively and effectively. 

I would go a little further and say that resilience is more than just responding well to current difficulties. It also includes developing the wisdom to avoid some of life's potholes and learning the tools to withstand situations that seem over-long and insurmountable. It also involves changing and becoming as the result of the challenges we meet - an opportunity to become weller than well or more whole than we would have thought possible prior to the problem or crisis. Given this, the definition I would prefer is that of psychologist and author of Resilience for Today, Edith Grotberg:

Resilience is the human capacity to deal with, overcome, learn from, or even be transformed by the inevitable adversities of life.

And to go a step further still, when we become transformed, we can then be of greater service to those around us. Our growth and transformation allow us to become more open conduits of love, groundedness, wisdom and calm for others enduring trying times and we have the opportunity to become activists to alter the original sources of our stress.

Put differently, there is a sense of higher consciousness or spiritual development that can evolve as our resilience builds. We become more whole within ourselves and, thus, more able to pass on tools of resilience to our loved ones and to the broader world.

This is the Year of Resilience ...

Hi everyone - Happy 2014!

So I've designated 2014 to be the Year of Resilience here at Caregiver Wellness. A year of focusing on the things that give us life as we support the lives of others. A year of orienting our thinking toward recovery from difficult experiences and becoming strong and well at the broken places. A year of gaining information and tools that will enhance our ability to bounce back and thrive.

The notion of resilience has always been a foundation for my work at Caregiver Wellness but this year I want to bring it to the forefront in a way that is intentional and exciting. We will look broadly and deeply at what resilience is, where it comes from and how we go about enhancing it.

I've been thinking a lot about resilience this week, my thoughts stimulated by two significant experiences. The first was choosing my word for 2014  (or allowing it to choose me) and the second, the experience of a wonderful new play, Rebel Women, running at the Jericho Arts Centre in Vancouver until January 12th.

As I said in my last post, I wasn't quite sure what my guiding word for the New Year would be. Initially, I thought that it might be embrace and I sat with that possibility for a week or so. But then I heard a word used in an unusual way during Women's Christmas and I knew, immediately, that that would be my word for 2014. The word I heard was supple. 

Supple is defined as, "readily bent without damage, lithe, moving and bending with agility, limber, yielding or changing readily, adaptable, mentally flexible, responding readily, and capable of showing easy graceful movement". There are few words more closely related to, and descriptive of, the notion of resilience.

The second experience that led me to think about resilience was Vital Spark Theatre's play Rebel Women. This amazingly enlightening and piercing play brings to life the struggles of the British suffragettes (and the Canadian women who supported them) and their resilience in the face of mocking, humiliation, physical violence, arrests and the brutality of force feedings to end their hunger strikes while in prison. Writer and director, Joan Bryans, (who also took our tickets at the door) became obsessed with the story of these brave women during the Spring of 2013. Using meticulous research, she developed a play based on the verbatim accounts of the people involved and the suffrage songs of the day. The result is a riveting production of a quality much higher than I would have expected from a small community theatre.

I came away knowing the suffragettes, whose names I'd only barely recognized, as true heros. I will never again grumble at having to go and vote. That privilege was too hard won by women with more courage and resilience than I would ever hope to have. I hope that those of you living in Greater Vancouver will take the time to see this rich production and to reflect upon the strength of these odd, sad, inspiring, quirky and noble women who suffered so much in order to give us the freedom to vote. May they be our inspiration as we begin our own Year of Resilience.

Three Great Practices to Welcome 2014 ...

Hello, everyone! After enjoying a wonderful Christmas at home for the first time in 10 years, I'm getting ready to leave for the Island to celebrate the New Year with dear family and friends. Getting ready, of course, includes writing an early New Year's blog post for those of you who are carepartners to patients, clients, students, family members, neighbours or friends.

While at this time of year the internet, TV and print media will be full of ways to make our bodies healthier in 2014, I would rather focus more inwardly upon ways of making our psyches and relationships more whole and well in the New Year. Three ways I know of doing this are to let a word choose you as a guide for 2014, to celebrate Women's Christmas and, if you're into resolutions, to choose a spiritually literate New Year's resolution for 2014. Each of these practices will help you to create the spaciousness and intention to welcome the new year.

This is my third year of allowing a word to "choose me" and it's been a experience of fun and continuing growth. Not only does my word act as guide during the year I choose it, but because of the focused attention it receives throughout that year, it continues to light my path in the years beyond. The first year my word was act, the second year it was veriditas and this year, embrace (as in embrace life) seems to be shimmering at the edge of my consciousness. I'll spend a little more time with this possibility over the next few days and see if it continues to resonate.

Celebrating Women's Christmas is a great way to reflect on the direction of our lives while in the company of women we trust. We can meet on January 6th in any number of settings - homes, nature walks, retreat houses, restaurants, pubs - and there, speak briefly about the year past and then resolve to spend the rest of the day sharing our dreams for the year to come and enjoying each others' company and support.

Finally, although I'm not usually one for resolutions, I have found on the Spirituality and Practice website, a list of ten spiritually literate resolutions that seem worth looking at. While I think one would need at least a year to work with any one of them, do check the list and see if there's one you or your family or workplace might like to use during 2014.

I hope that at least one of these practices catches your imagination and I wish each of you an expectant New Year filled with promise, possibility and peace.

Jan

How the Light Comes ...

Hello, everyone! We have just passed Diwali, Hanukkah, St Nicholas Day, Bohdi Day, St Lucia's Day, the Winter Solstice and several other lesser known midwinter festivals. Soon, we will celebrate Christmas Day.

What is it that all these holidays have in common? The recognition of darkness and the coming of light. The hope for better times ahead when the days lengthen and ever more light will fill our lives.

For some, it is hard to imagine that the light will ever come again. Others are already dancing in anticipation. Others, still, see glimpses of light already here in the midst of the darkness. Whatever your situation this wintertide, whether you are healthy and happily gathering with loved ones, caring for family members struggling with illness or injury, grieving the death of a loved one, working long shifts to keep us all safe and well or withdrawing into the pain of your own burn out and compassion fatigue, may this holiday season, in some way, bring you the gift of light in the darkness.

How will that light come? Let me leave you with the gift of a blessing by Jan Richardson that responds to that very question, a blessing made more poignant this year as she grieves the sudden death of her husband, musician Garrison Doles:


How the Light Comes:
A Blessing for Christmas

I cannot tell you
how the light comes.

What I know
is that it is more ancient
than imagining.

That it travels
across an astounding expanse
to reach us.

That it loves
searching out
what is hidden
what is lost
what is forgotten
what is in peril
or in pain.

That it has a fondness
for the body
for finding its way
toward flesh
for tracing the edges
of form
for shining forth
through the eye,
the hand,
the heart.

I cannot tell you
how the light comes,
but that it does.
That it will.
That it works its way
into the deepest dark
that enfolds you,
though it may seem
long ages in coming
or arrive in a shape
you did not foresee.

And so
may we this day
turn ourselves toward it.
May we lift our faces
to let it find us.
May we bend our bodies
to follow the arc it makes.
May we open
and open more
and open still

to the blessed light
that comes.


And for those of us fortunate enough to be living healthy, happy and well-lit lives this holiday season, may there be opportunities to share our light with those who are still caught up in a season of darkness.


From my heart to yours, a very Happy and Peaceful Christmas!

Love, Jan

The Gift of Being Seen ...

Hi everyone! My apologies for an unannounced absence over the past few weeks.

As a few of you may know, I have a chronic pain condition from a birth injury, one that has been relatively stable for many years. This fall, however, one of my pain prevention medications was discontinued because it was implicated in signs of early glaucoma. Tapering off that medication has caused significant pain for a couple of months. After seeing a new-to-me neurologist at Queen's University, though, I now have several replacement options to try and expect to be comfortable again in the New Year.

The experience of meeting this new neurologist was helpful, hopeful, and reassuring. What made it so?  First, that he took the time to hear my story and carefully question any areas where I was unclear. Second, that his questions encompassed all three aspects of chronic pain - the physical, the emotional and the traumatic. Third, that his physical exam was thorough enough to pinpoint protective compensations of gait and posture that now complicate the treatment picture. And finally, that he lives with a similar condition, himself, and believes a solution is available. (His credibility went up 10 points when I heard that!)

Why am I telling you all this? Simply because in this physician, I found a helping professional who was neither burnt out nor compassion fatigued - one who retained the capacity to SEE his patients as individuals and as partners in healing. This being seen allowed me to relax into the helping relationship and to move toward the relief of my pain.

The gift of being seen is a powerful one. From our earliest days, the gaze of infant and mother establishes a secure emotional base of human attachment. The watchful eyes of parents, families and teachers keep us safe and empower our growth through childhood, teenage years and early adulthood. The recognition of being seen in a positive light builds our self confidence and self esteem. Being seen allows each of us to continue the journey toward being the whole person we were meant to be.

In Africa, there is a Zulu greeting that goes like this:

I see you.

If you want to let someone know that you recognize them, that you have taken the time to notice them, that you honour how unique they are in all the world, that their presence is a cause for celebration, this is what you say.

I see you.

In this season of additional busyness, hurry and, in some cases, grief, Jan Richardson, one of my favourite writers-of-blessings asks:

How is your seeing? Who might need you to say, I see you? Where might you offer this gift of recognition, this blessing that will free someone to speak the word that only they can speak?

Why not take a moment to consider who might need to be seen in your life this holiday season? Then, whether at work or at home, intentionally offer them the gift of your presence, recognition and esteem.

When Christmas Hurts ...

Hello, everyone. It's good to be back in Vancouver again after a very successful month's writing in Ontario.

However, all is not as I left it a month ago. Several of my friends are hurting and will have a difficult holiday season this year - two have lost husbands unexpectedly, one has had surgery and another, a life changing diagnosis.

In addition, two other friends, the sister and brother-in-law of The Rev Dave Dingwall, the Episcopal priest who died in the bizarre church rectory fire in Ocean City, MD, are attending funerals rather than planning their baby's first Christmas. And even Jan Richardson, the wonderful writer whose blessings have graced several of my blog posts, is grieving the sudden death of her husband, musician Garrison Doles, following surgery for a cerebral aneurysm. So much grief in what we anticipate as a joyous time of year.

Many of you will be experiencing bereavement grief or chronic sorrow this holiday season, as well, and will be wondering how on earth you are going to get through the festivities and make it to the end of the year. There's no easy answer to that question. In fact, there are as many answers as there are situations. How you choose to cope with the holidays needs to be tailored to your individual needs and circumstances.

That said, here are a few options to consider that might help:

1.  Talk about your grief if you can. Don't be afraid to express your feelings if you want to. Ignoring them won't make you feel any better and talking about them with someone you trust to hear you without judging can help to relieve some of the pressure. If there's no one you feel comfortable talking with, consider writing your thoughts and feelings in a journal instead.

2.  Recognize your limits.  Be at least as kind to yourself as you would be to your best friend. Don't insist on a perfect holiday. Keep things simple. Recognize that grieving takes a lot of energy and allow yourself to scale back, to rest frequently and to ask others for help. (Most of us have some friends who would give anything to be a practical help to a grieving friend. Your request for help is a gift to them as well as to yourself.)

3. Be with people who feel safe and comfortable. Make a list of people you can be yourself with, happy or sad, warts and all, and choose to spend your time with these people. Their love and support is the most important gift you can give yourself at this time of year.

4. If someone has died, talk about them.  Include them in your day-to-day conversation. Consider a ritual to remember them during the holidays - light a candle at their place at the table, sing their favourite carols or holiday songs, say a prayer of thanksgiving for them before your holiday meal.

5. Use distraction consciously. Everyone will tell you that it's important to feel, feel, feel while you're grieving but sometimes feeling can become overwhelming. In cases like these, make a conscious choice to distract yourself in a healthy way - go for a walk, change the subject, turn on the TV, talk to a funny friend, clean the house. Chosen consciously, these activities will help you to pace painful emotions.

6.  Give yourself an out. Give yourself permission to plan what you need for the holidays rather than what others think you should do. Make plans to spend time with loved ones but explain ahead of time that you might not be able to follow through when the time comes. Or apologize in advance in case you have to leave a celebration early.

7. Practice your faith.  The holidays may spark in you a deepening of faith or a desire to seek out new belief systems. If your faith is important to you, make time for the practices that matter - attend a religious service or take a walk in nature or attend a retreat or meditate or pray. Spend time with people who understand and accept your spiritual beliefs.

These are just a few ideas for those of you facing a painful holiday season. If you have some others that have worked for you, please do share them for the benefit of us all.

Honouring Military Chaplains ...

My husband, once a British Army Chaplain who saw active service in the Aden Conflict, had a hero in the person of Geoffrey Studdert Kennedy. You probably haven't heard of Studdert Kennedy but you may recognize him as the World War I army chaplain and poet known as Woodbine Willie. 


Born in 1883, Geoffrey Studdert Kennedy grew up the seventh of seven children in Leeds, England. He studied the classics and divinity at a variety of schools in Ireland and England before becoming an Anglican priest in 1914. A quiet, deep thinker and a dreamer all his life, (to the extent that he frequently missed appointments or arrived home from the store with the opposite of what he had been sent to fetch), he had an extraordinary mind combined with great humility, compassion, and generosity. (He frequently gave whatever he had to those in need, to the dismay of his housekeeper who finally locked up his best suit and banked his stipend, giving him only a small allowance.)

Studdert Kennedy's first church was St Paul's, Worcester. It was a large and very poor parish where he often visited public houses in the evening, sat in the bar and talked to the customers,    " ... in such a natural way that they did not resent it, but when the news went round that the young parson was in a public house men would flock there." 

Before he had been at St Paul's three months, war broke out and, after waiting until his responsibilities there could be handed over, Studdert Kennedy joined the army chaplaincy service in 1915. As a military chaplain, he was unconventional, to say the least, and the soldiers loved him. Though described as "impossible" and "quite mad" by those higher up, he preached with passion and humour using stories and poems and the language of the soldiers, and had the capacity to make even the most difficult subjects relevant and accessible to the men in the ranks. Within two Sundays of arriving at his first post in France, there needed to be three 'sittings' for his eleven o'clock service because the chapel was too small to hold all who wanted to attend.

However, the Padre didn't spend all his time in the chapel. Infantryman, Arthur Savage, met Woodbine Willie on the frontline:

Kennedy, an army chaplain he was and he'd come down into the trenches and say prayers with the men, have a cuppa out of a dirty tin mug and tell a joke as good as any of us. He was a chain smoker and always carried a packet of Woodbine cigarettes that he would give out in handfuls to us lads. That's how he got his nickname. He came down the trench one day to cheer us up. Had his Bible with him as usual. Well, I'd been there for weeks, unable to write home, of course, we were going over the top later that day. I asked him if he would write to my sweetheart at home, tell her I was still alive and, so far, in one piece. He said he would, so I gave him the address. Well, years later, after the war, she showed me the letter he'd sent; very nice it was. A lovely letter. My wife kept it until she died.

It was this time spent comforting soldiers in the trenches and several acts of heroism, such as volunteering to fetch much needed drugs from another Dressing Station under heavy fire and bringing stranded wounded men to safety, that earned him the Military Cross. His profound empathy for the emotional lives of the soldiers he served is evident in the words of his poem, Mates, read beautifully here.

After the war, Willie was appointed to St Edmund, King and Martyr Church in the slums of London, among the homeless and the unemployed. His experiences during the war had converted him to Christian Socialism and pacifism and he wrote about his beliefs in several books including Lies, Food for the Fed Up, and Democracy and the Dog-Collar.

Unlike the Master he served, who had taught and modelled the importance of taking time away to rest and refresh, Geoffrey Studdert Kennedy "worked without ceasing" to teach, to preach, and to ease the suffering of those within his parish and beyond. His death came suddenly and unexpectedly at the age of 46 when he developed influenza while delivering a Lenten course in Liverpool. Not wanting to disappoint those who were expecting him, he soldiered on and then collapsed under the strain of his longtime asthma and the influenza.

His funeral was packed to capacity and in the words of the same Arthur Savage quoted above:

The name Woodbine Willie was known to everyone in the land in those days. Died very young, he did, and at his funeral people placed packets of Woodbine cigarettes on his coffin and his grave as a mark of respect and love.

Today, all over the world, there are military chaplains of many faith traditions risking their health, and often their lives, to support and comfort those in the face of combat and their families left behind - to say nothing of the returning wounded warriors and their loved ones. Studies tell us that military chaplains live with a high degree of trauma exposure and are at risk for both burnout and compassion fatigue.

So, on Remembrance Day 2013, I invite you join me in remembering and honouring not only those who fight, and have fought, for us, but also military chaplains everywhere and their families. Their work is essential and they, too, need and deserve our care and support.



ps This will be my last post for the next month as I return to my writing desk in Ontario to continue work on the book on Chronic Sorrow. Til then, take care, everyone, and I'll see you again in December.  Jan