Rehashing Advent: The dark, the light and the Hallelujah

The Hallelujah

I was really excited this year about Jack visiting from Costa Rica for Christmas. Jack is my mother's cousin, and I met him for the first time last spring when Mom and I visited Santa Ana. He's a really fun person, and he and I are very alike in spirit and humor.

The last few weeks I have been preparing for Jack's arrival. Although he was only spending one night at my house before going to stay with my Aunt Mame, I wanted everything to be perfect. I scrubbed my apartment from top to bottom. It took five hours. I even cleaned the inside of my medicene cabinet. Did I think Jack would care about my medicene cabinet? No. But I cared. I cleaned my pantry. I bought a six pack of Coors, his favorite American beer. I put together a selection of books for him to read. I spent two days creating the most "welcome back to New England" meal I could think of, Beef and Potato stew with Guinness.
Before I left for the airport Tuesday night I set the table for two, turned the crock pot to "simmer," and put Dad's old leather jacket in my car so Jack would have something warm to wear. Everything was perfect.

Then everything fell apart. Jack didn't get off the plane. While other happy families reunited at the gate, I stood holding Dad's heavy jacket, distraught and worried. I got terse with a security guard who sent me to the wrong gate. I had Jack paged. Someone looked up his name and told me Jack had missed the flight; he was on the next one. I had two hours to wait. I sat and thought about the stew simmering away in my kitchen. I thought about how early I had to get up for work. I longed for my ipod. I got grumpy.

Once Jack arrived, things started looking up. We didn't stop talking all the way home. I forgot how tired I was, and put my early morning shift out of my mind. On the way to my apartment we passed a pizza place. Jack nearly jumped out the window of the car because he hadn't had a decent slice of pizza in twelve years. Excited for his "first" taste of American pizza, I stopped the car quickly, and he ran into the little store. Then I remembered my stew at home and started to laugh out loud.

I had spent all this time preparing and working and planning. In the end it was a good thing because my house was clean and comfortable, and Jack ended up eating some stew after his pizza anyway. But still, things didn't go as I planned.

This Advent I promised myself I'd really prepare a place for Jesus. I tried to be mindful every single day. I said I'd pray an hour a day at least. I told myself I'd find extra prayer services to attend. In the end, I didn't do that hour of prayer every single day. But I did pray more often. And I missed Mass twice but I went to a very moving yoga - prayer service at Hope Church. I also attended Taize, which I wouldn't have done if I hadn't missed Mass last week.

In and of itself preparing is not generally bad or futile. Because otherwise the apartment would be cluttered , the fridge would be gross and there'd be no six pack of Coors.
But flexibility is key in planning. It's important to keep in mind that airlines aren't always on time and that sometimes a man just wants a slice of pizza.

We can pray for Grace and make ourselves as open as possible in preparation, but it's still all up to God. Rigidity in faith, I am learning, might not be as useful as I once thought it was.

So, (ready for a corny and moralizing anaology to end this one?) I'm going to keep making stew but I'm not going to freak out about how many potatos to buy,* because in the end we might end up just getting a pizza and eating both.


Hallelujah!
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*right, Shannon?

Burning and Cooling the Spirit

Burnout isn't any fun. People can burn out on anything, even other people sometimes. Irritation and anger find their place just under the surface and become quickly and easily provoked. Frustration is almost constant, and when frustration subsides, apathy arises quickly to fill its place. But the worst of it is that burnout almost always happens from something you used to love. So underneath the barely controlled temper or the inability to care about outcome of action is a horrid, nagging guilt. Self hate, depression and despair well up inside and manifest as sarcasm, excuses and fatigue.

In a word, it sucks.

Some professions are probably more "prone," to it than others. The medical field seems to be a big one. I would say that comedy can probably burn people out just as quickly. As you can see,I haven't chosen the safest two passions to indulge in simultaneously.

Before this entry begins to raise some eyebrows*, I should say that I am not burned out right now. But I was on the verge as recently as earlier this month, which is what made me want to write about it.

Being "on the verge" is what I like to call a "first degree burnout." I'm going to write mostly about occupational situations, but I feel like the same things apply to burnout of relationships too.

Warning: I have made up everything I am about to say. Don't look for this in any books.

First degree burnout manifests as getting easily frustrated with tasks that were once considered challenging and worthwhile. It can also feel like a lack of interest in tasks or outcomes. Usually however, the person also has periods of time or days where they do not feel like this, so they may write off the feelings without recognizing the bigger problem First degree burnout can be fixed with some refocusing of priorities.
Second degree burnout is similar, but the negative feelings are more constant and may begin to disrupt daily activities of the person experiencing it. It can be fixed the same as 1st degree burn out, but also needs more space and a bit of time to gain perspective.
Third degree burnout is serious and requires some major time and space. The negative feelings are almost constant, even when the person is not at work. The feelings disrupt the well being and functionality of the person. They also have a negative effect on the people around the person. It might not be possible to ever return to the person, place or occupation that caused the problem.

I am twenty five years old and have experienced the third type of burnout once with a job already. I was a sophomore in college, taking a semester off to work. Although it was not a pleasant experience to go through I am grateful for it because I am more sensitive to the signs and symptoms than many others might be. At the time, however I had no idea. I just thought I needed more sleep. In the end, I quit. I never want to feel that way again.

So how did I fix what I felt at the beginning of this month?

Prayer. (Ok. Stay with me, Readers of Dubious Religious Stock. I promise to not get too preachy.)

I didn't even realize I was doing it. But it is Lent after all, and I saw that I hadn't been doing much in the way of setting a ton of prayer time aside**. I saw that something was out of balance (work versus play versus prayer) and I adjusted without thinking about it too much more. After spending time one night, and then the next morning before work to focus on my relationship with God I felt immensely better. I arrived at work so full of focus and energy that I couldn't believe it myself.

A co worker asked if I was getting better sleep. I laughed. My schedule hasn't changed at all. I'm working harder at night if anything.

But when I felt like I was burning out and then suddenly felt like myself again, the only thing I had done differently was prayer time.

When I was in college I was once asked to guest lecture at another college in a class called Spirituality and Nursing. I was only a junior, and had NO IDEA the class was for men and women who already held nursing licenses, until I got there. I was shaken off my little Catholic rocker. The pleasant and heartwarming story of how that turned out for everyone is a whole different entry.

I have since lost all of my well planned notes from that afternoon. However, the take aways I would offer now that I've actually been a nurse aren't too different than the ones I remember offering to those men and women with only a CNA under my belt and a well examined 21 year old faith:

Nursing is by nature a giving profession. We give time, we give our intelligence and we give of ourselves emotionally and physically. In order to give so much, it is necessary to know where we are taking from, and to know the limits of that bounty. We take from family, friends, and hobbies, but for many of us our spirituality is one of the biggest areas we'll be taking from because it is limitless. And for that reason, feeding our Spirituality is the most important thing a caregiver can do to stay sane.

Spirituality - not religion, or dogma; not catechism, not guilt or a hero complex, but that real and true relationship with the Divine is what will allow us to be honestly balanced. It will allow us to hear the voices of those who need us plainly and honestly while at the same time listening to the quiet whispers of our selves, knowing when to step back and when to reconfigure our senses.

But it's not just nurses. It's everyone, doing everything. Whatever it is we're doing with our time, most of us have a lot to give, and have found really unique and fitting ways to do that. Hopefully we will continue to find new and interesting ways to give our entire lives.

But if we do that without checking into a place to "take," we're going to come up empty all the time. And burned. So whether it's an organized religion, a personal relationship with Christ***, or your pragmatic awe and scientific respect for mankind, I hope you take note of whatever it is you feel is your life source. That way it remains something you can always return to when burnout creeps in.
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* Put those eyebrows DOWN!
** Read this as, "I could have done far better with Lent this year."
*** Which I am obviously biased in favor of.