Back to school.

854990I’ve successfully completed my first class at Seattle University! Huzzah! Take that all you people who… well… actually were quite supportive of this crazy idea. The class was STMM 5530: Pastoral Care Skills, which is usually ten weeks long but because it was a summer session, was compressed into five days. Ten women and one man (me!), from six different faith backgrounds and three different degree tracks, came together to help each other learn how to listen. It felt more like a retreat than a grad school class.

9398Learning how to listen may sound easy, but we tread into some deep emotional, spiritual and psychological waters. There were five required texts for the course and all needed to be read before the first day of class. Armed with theory, in class we discussed how family history, genetics, society, ethnicity, culture and religion all came together to fashion our behavior, specifically how we react in anger, fear, guilt and depression. In order to bring healing, we needed to understand brokenness; specifically, our own.

tumblr_lqeip8nsdz1qcn6k7o4_250We formed triads, and twice a day each of us had a turn at being an observer, listener and speaker. All sessions were video recorded. We were to review our listening sessions and critique our own behavior: How am I sitting? What kinds of questions am I asking? Am I looking at the speaker? How are our chairs positioned? What does my voice sound like? How am I using my facial expressions? We also had constructive feedback from peers and instructors.

105909-Black-Dynamite-now-this-is-som-gQ4KNone of the class was role play. As the speaker, we needed to respond from the heart. Some topics of discussion were: “Who are you and why are you here?” “What are your limitations and strengths?” “What aspects of your family were most difficult?” “What excuses do you use to avoid self-care?” “Where does your anger come from?” “How do you react to conflict, and why?” “How do issues of power and vulnerability affect your life?” It may seem crazy to be able to honestly speak this kind of personal truth to complete strangers.  Thankfully, I had two amazing women in my triad who made self-disclosure incredibly easy.

gif-8The goal of all this is to begin fashioning a sense of pastoral presence; a way of being fully attentive to a care-seeker in a way that affirms their worth and dignity as a human being and provides a safe environment from which to begin healing. I learned this requires an enormous amount of self-examination and self-knowledge. It demands that I be the servant-leader. I also learned there is a scary amount of power that comes with ministry. I’m thankful that I’ve chosen a school which teaches the responsibility, compassion and humility necessary to use that power in a way that respects and honors each individual person I meet.

I can’t wait for the fall semester.

Why would you do that?!

Image“Why would you do that!?”

This was the reaction a friend had when I told him I was going to grad school to study divinity.

First, I had to explain what “that” meant. I would be studying theology and ministry in the hopes of becoming a chaplain. Then I had to explain what a chaplain was; a person of a specific faith/denomination who is assigned to/works with institutions like hospitals, a military unit, police departments or non-profits in order to provide spiritual guidance and support to the people in/accessing the institution. It’s a minister who walks with people through (extra)ordinary circumstances; who is there when life fails to make sense, or is too hard to handle.

giphyIt’s a vocation that places a person into the position of a rock in the rapids.

His reaction makes a good point. It’s not a lucrative career; I’ll not be making a six figure salary. It’s not something you hear little kids talk about when you ask them, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” It’s a lot of studying, writing papers, interning and discerning. Chaplains have told me that it’s long hours into the night and questioning every step of the way. On the surface, it seems to be work that has a lot of cost and not very much reward.

watchingsadlyBecause, why would I decide on a career with only mediocre earning potential? Why would I want to listen to other people’s problems? Why would I want to potentially surround myself with death, disease, homelessness, addiction, mental illness, violence and broken humanity?

This is why I struggle with explaining my decision to friends and family. On paper, it seems insane. Heck, typing it out into a blog it sounds insane. But I see a problem in weighing the worth of work solely based on material reward. I try not to buy into the cookie cutter American consumer mold; work so I can buy stuff that will eventually break so I need to work more in order to buy better stuff to replace the stuff I already have. How do you explain a feeling of “being called,” or for the less spiritually inclined, feeling like what you are doing “fits” with what you want/need/require of life?

light-end-tunnelI feel like I can be the person who holds a dying person’s hand as they take their last breath. I want to be the person who can sit and weep with the mother who just lost her child. I need to be the person who can be present with the man who has lost his faith. I can be available to my fellow human being who is hurting, share that dark tunnel journey with them, and walk out out the other end with them into the light again.

It’s not about the 6-figure salary. It’s not about notoriety. It’s not about buying all the things. It’s about finding a way I can be of service to others. It’s about creating a meaning in the work I am doing. It about that strange feeling in the pit of my gut that tells me “this feels right; you are where you need to be.”

FlippantFreshEkaltadetaI’m terrified I could be wrong. I’ve gone down this path before; I’ve been in seminary and felt the call only to end up losing my faith and finding another. But, just like then, I have to give it a try. I have to walk down this path to see where it goes. I don’t want to be at the end of my life, regretting that I didn’t just give it a try.

I don’t expect people to understand; but at least I have family and friends who, even if they don’t agree with me, will take this journey with me. They’re my chaplains without even knowing it.

The (In)Sanity of Impending Fatherhood

20140504_161739
Leia seems a little confused…

It’s official. I’m going to be a dad. Which means in the last month, I’ve become the liberal stereotype: I’m going to grad school and having my first child. AT THE SAME TIME. I’m going to have to start brewing a lot more beer…

Last Friday my wife and I went in for her first ultrasound. We had known for a few weeks that she was pregnant. We didn’t want to say anything until we saw the heartbeat. It was a strong 166bpm (which is apparently very good for a protohuman barley the size of a raspberry). The kid already has crazy cardio endurance!

When Heather told me she was pregnant, it took a few days to sink in. At first, I didn’t know how to feel. We’d been trying for a while. It was something we were committed to and wanted. Still, the “concept” of having a child was much different than the “reality.” All of a sudden, shizzle got real. Perhaps it was a mild form of shock; or at least disbelief.

I was all like...
I was all like…

Then I saw a live shot of the little heart beating. A switch flipped in my brain and for the first time I was ecstatic about fatherhood. I helped make that little heart. Now, for the rest of my life, that little heart has a place in my own. I’ve made very few lifelong commitments. The first, when I married Heather. Now… I’m going to be a parent. Forever! I have no words to describe the crazy amount of emotions that went through me at that point. It was like understanding the meaning of life and tasting chocolate for the first time. Mind=blown.

paranoidThen a few things happened after that switch flipped in my brain. First, I was like “Holy crap! I made a human being! I have successfully passed on my genetic code! Go me!” Then the whole universe became a terrifying funhouse of insanity. That road in front of our house? Death trap. That guy walking his dog down the road? Possible mass murderer. The tables in our living room? Concussion generators.  Everything in the world suddenly had the potential to inflict serious harm. To a guy who usually sees the world “glass half full,” I was unaccustomed to severe paranoia.

vB2eYSQ (1)I’m also incredibly worried/cautious to touch Heather’s belly. What if I do something wrong? Or put too much pressure? This alternates with wanting to hug/squeeze/hold her because that means I’m closer to my potential son/daughter. This is insanity. I always knew parents were all a little crazy… I thought it was because of the lack of sleep and constant running around. Little did I figure that it was a constant state of hypervigilance and protection instinct.

Hopefully, this will mellow over time. I’m pretty sure it will. Thankfully, I have a plethora of role models to draw from. My own parents; Heather’s parents; many of my friends (some of whom have kids graduating from High School). I don’t have to go this alone. Which is a huge relief; because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing at this point.

greatest_dad_mugI’m trying to read all the books and know all the things. I’ve also been told enough times that you really do just “figure it out as you go.” You can prepare all you want, but you don’t know how to ride a bike until you actually ride a frackin’ bike. Who needs training wheels? Not this guy. It’s time to earn that “world’s best dad” coffee mug…

Wealth, wages and having enough…

15hrA few stories on the news cycle have caught my attention. First, the fight discussion about raising the minimum wage to $15 an hour. Then the not so revelation that we live in an oligarchy and not a democracy. Finally, the third National Climate Assessment released by the U.S. Global Change Research Program. Put all of them together and things do not bode well for our young heroes.

There is a Chinese curse: “May you live in interesting times.” Well, it doesn’t get more interesting than this. Luckily, I feel there is a glimmer of hope. It’ll take blood, sweat, tears and sacrifice. But perhaps we’ve lived too long in somatic comfort and we need a wake-up call. Here it is:

6_kannerCorporate capitalism has failed our workers, our environment and our freedom.

Hence the fight for a $15/hr minimum wage. Opponents shout “job killer” and “socialist” and “anti-American.” The truth is that currently, unless you’re making $15/hr a family of 4 isn’t even scraping by. In Washington State (where I live) the “living wage” for a family of 4 is $19.63/hr working full time 40 hours a week with benefits. This is just to live. Not to get ahead. Or save for college. Or deal with unexpected medical emergencies. Or a broken down car. Or to put a down payment on a home.

bs131213This is unacceptable. In a country as rich in resources, talent and technology as ours there is no reason a person working full time 40 hours a week shouldn’t be able to improve their circumstances. The most basic worker should be able to afford housing, food, education and be able to put a little aside for savings. The fight for a minimum wage just forces the issue because it’s been proven corporations and their owners are unwilling to pay a living wage.

Why? Because corporations care more about profit than they do about human beings and the communities they do business in. They don’t care about the worker, the family, or quality of life. They only have one mission: to provide executives and shareholders with growing profits. That’s it. Once upon a time, corporations used to serve the community. No longer.

mar-apr-large-600x419Another ramification of the gradual personhood of corporations is the destruction of our ecosystem. Oh yes, Americans have benefitted from this with our enormous cars, bottled water and cheap Wal-Mart goods. We’ve grown fat off our consumption so we don’t care about (and some even deny) the impacts our consumption has had on the environment. Don’t let the facts get in the way of MY lifestyle. Unfortunately the facts are forcing the issue.

As long as corporations (and the people behind them) only care about profit, environmental sustainability and human freedom will always take second seat to minimizing costs and maximizing returns. Remember, extreme wealth only exists because 1) it was built on the backs of workers 2) we allow money=speech 3) we let it exist.

live-simplyNow we are faced with a choice. Either drastically change our behavior, or face a future of extreme weather, rising sea levels and an increasingly uninhabitable world. This means learning moderation. Saying “no” to 60” televisions and fancy sports cars and million dollar mansions. Realizing that the community is just as important as the individual. Learning how to be content with $40k/yr, and changing the system so that $40k/yr can provide everything we need and a few things we want.

walking towardsIf we don’t change, it’s our children who will suffer. It’s my child who will suffer. Hell, a lot of people are going to suffer. Most of them poor, vulnerable and working so I can have a smart phone and designer clothes. I’m just another guilty man caught up in our economic machine. I’m trying to change; reducing what I consume and learning to live happily with less. But every small step I take towards economic justice is another small battle won against  tyranny. I only hope people are walking with me.

Easter for a (former) Christian…

wine and matzah...
wine and matzah…

On Monday Heather and I went to a Passover Seder. Even though I’m not Jewish, I found it powerful to be in solidarity with my friend, her culture, her friends and others around the world in remembering slavery, hardship, and the promise of a brighter future. She used a special haggadah (telling) focused on social action and solidarity with love and justice. I learned from various guests about differences in the Jewish community, their faith and family traditions, and shared (non)traditional food and drink. It was amazing!

Last night we went to a Maundy Thursday communion service held at our church. It was sparse; only a few dozen people. We listened to biblical readings, commemorated the Last Supper through wine and bread, and stood in solidarity with the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth. It was solemn and intimate; such a stark contrast to the rowdy Seder we experienced only a few days before. But the Christian holy week is supposed to be muted. We walk with a man sentenced to death because his beliefs challenged those in power.

circle-wise-women-full-lighted-KE-12096After the communion service, we attended a candlelight vigil for a young woman who was hit by a car in our neighborhood. Her story is tragic. It was a senseless accident which robbed a father of his only daughter. They lived just a few blocks away from us and we felt we should stand silently with the Nepalese family. Once again, we were reminded that this week especially is a time of mourning and remembering. It is a time where community comes together because life has become too much.

Even though I no longer qualify as a Christian, I would be dishonest to not participate in this religious time of year. Christianity is a part of my history, my journey, and will remain part of my future. The Judeo-Christian tradition holds powerful truths; its essays and stories of humanity struggling with identity, definition, relationship and the unknown are timeless. It is also controversial, especially in a Unitarian Universalist congregation.

One love; nobody left behind...
One love; nobody left behind…

My church is filled with religious refugees. A lot of my brothers and sisters have been hurt by Christianity. They were kicked out of their homes for being gay; they were told they were going to hell because they didn’t read the bible the same way; they were told they were evil and sinful for just being human. Of course only a few of us would show up to a Holy Thursday communion service. For many, this time of year is too painful. For others, it is meaningless.

Yet for me, the communion service was powerful. The Seder was powerful. This time of year is powerful. I’ve heard more than one person describe this as a “thin” time where spiritual life and daily life become intertwined and we have the opportunity to better interact with god/nature/earth/spirit. Because of my history, I have no choice but to sink into this thinness and let myself steep in the spirit of Jesus, the Hebrew prophets, the saints and the apostles. By participating in these Jewish/Christian days, I commemorate where I came from. I mourn for what I have lost. I am reminded of why I changed. I embrace where I have set my spiritual future.

Easter blessings...
Easter blessings from Seattle…

Many people in my church wouldn’t agree with my Easter experience; but almost all of them would support it. I found a community which can say “beyond our ideas of wrong-doing and right-doing, there is a field. Let us walk there together.” Nothing says more about this time of year than that.

(Taking) A moment to thank somebody…

Day 18: Activate a Social Network Thank a Person for Being Awesome

This is part of the UU Blogging Workshops’s Zero to Hero Series

Today’s assignment: If you’re already active on a social network, set up Publicize and link the account to your blog, and/or create a strategy for how you’ll use it.

Note: I am already WAY too connected via social networking sites. My blog is already connected to Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Google+, LinkedIn and YouTube. I’ve been told if I join Pinterest, I will disintegrate like Flynn in Tron.

So instead, I will give a quick shout out to Inga, the woman who was in charge of the self-checkout isle at the QFC grocery store in the Northgate neighborhood in Seattle. Tonight I attended a community council meeting for my neighborhood, Victory Heights. Afterwards, I drove over to the store to pick up some surprise chocolate cake for the wifey.

I grab the cake, some bagels, and 2 for 1 Angus steaks! At the self-checkout isle, low and behold, I had forgotten my shopping bag! You see, in Seattle you have to bring your own reusable bag because there’s a plastic bag ban. I support this. However, at this moment I have no bag in which to put my Angus steak and chocolate cake.

I ask the checker on duty (Inga) if I can run out to my car really quick to grab a bag. (We keep about 10 of them in the car just in case) She laughed and said ok. So I run outside really quick, grab my bag, and run inside only to find that Inga had rung up my items for me… in the self checkout! It was one of those moments where a person took a couple minutes out of their day to do something small, meaningful and unexpected.

It wasn’t her job, but she did something nice for me. A complete stranger. She is awesomesause! So I asked her manager for a customer input card and let her know how appreciative I was of such a gesture of kindness. I hope she gets employee of the month, or at least a raise or something.

Which reminds me that I need to take advantage of more opportunities to do something nice for complete strangers. I need to pay it forward.

So how about you? Has anybody ever gone out of their way to do something nice for you without even knowing you? Let me know!