Happy Halloween - Don't forget the Dead

There are a few heralds to Autumn – the geese fly south in graceful Vs across the afternoon sky, the leaves turn glorious shades of red, yellow and orange, the grass is crunchy with frost in the morning and suddenly the smell of cloves or wood smoke becomes intoxicating.  In more mundane terms, it means that Pumpkin Lattes at Dunkin Donuts go back on the menu, apple cider is available at your favorite orchard and Christmas tree displays sprout with riotous abandon in every commercial nook and cranny.

Christmas trees … when the air conditioners were humming just a few short week ago.

There has been a growing outcry about the commercialization of the major holidays, how they are losing so much traditional and spiritual significance because we’ve placed such emphasis on the material aspect of them.  Yet every year is the same, and it feels like there is little done to stem the tide.  We will spend the next few months choking to death on advertisements meant to lure our children into wanting things, instead of wanting time.  Time with family, time with friends, time with loved ones - for no other purpose than celebrating a part of the great cycle that turns slowly on its wheel until it stops for each of us, and then those chances are gone.

Halloween is no different.

Halloween is suffering the same slow death secondary to commercial gluttony.  Please do not get me wrong on this, I absolutely love the fact that it has risen in popularity.  That for many people it is their hands-down favorite holiday, that they’ve turned to this to expend their energy for their own personal joy.  I know that that will mean that this holiday will retain significance for you and your family.  It will be tied in your memory to good things.  But this shift in culture always comes at a price and with each year I see some of the beauty inherent to Halloween slip away, buried under an avalanche of brightly wrapped candy and a deluge of horror icons.

All Hallow’s Eve represents a thinning of the veil between worlds, it has been viewed for centuries as a brief span of time when there is an overlap between the spirits and living – but it is more than that.  It is the Celtic New Year, it’s correlation with death is only in part due to the deceased and the remainder is symbolic for the death of another year.  It is a holdover when agriculture dictated the survival of a people.  The earth grows cold and sleeps until spring, the growing cycle is over.  The harvest begins along the culling of the livestock to support a people through the long cold dark.  It is thanking the land and praying for a future.  It is a time to put away the negative from your year and prepare to move forward, clean and ready for new life to come again in the spring.  You cannot embrace Life and ignore Death, they are what defines each other.

Halloween represents a time to acknowledge and honor your dead – your ancestors, your loved ones who are either newly or long-departed.  The grandmother who taught you to sew, your father and his strength, your friend for the love they gave you while they were here.  Because it is in remembering that we grant them immortality, that we incorporate what they were into what we are and what we want our children to become.

Most of all the “traditions” you see or hear about on Halloween derive from this concept, to remember the dead.  The costumes, the pranks, the gifts of treats, apples, pumpkins, they are all meant to tie us back to those that came before.  To protect us from those who would wish us ill and grant for us a safe winter.  Take a look at how the UK still celebrates Halloween, spectacular bonfires and family traditions handed down for generations – they look to us and shake their heads.

In all the spectacular orange glitter, so much of that gets lost.  The irony is that there are still many Christian families who view Halloween as a Pagan holiday and choose not to celebrate or participate in any way.  That is their right and I might agree, except that the average Halloween in the U.S. it is not afforded any spiritual significance and is thus more of a cultural holiday than a religious one.  So they are protesting something without substance.

It is supposed to be fun, and spooky and a night marked with laughter and shrieks of fear and delight.  It is a dark, delicious celebration of life and death.  It is not just about how much candy one will get, or who has the best decorations.  There is a layer beneath the masks and candlelight that I would hate to see lost forever.

I’m not trying to be a great crusader or change anyone’s mind about anything.  Celebrate however you see fit, because in celebrating at least the day is marked and you get enjoyment out of it – this is often more than enough.  Make your own traditions, ones that will carry to your friends and family and give you your own immortality some day.

But perhaps at some point, when you hear the happy laughter of children scurrying from door to door, or that tendril of wood smoke and dead leaves reaches your indrawn breath, you can take just a minute to acknowledge the lives that came before you.  The mélange of history and souls that resulted in who you are today – just acknowledge that some of those souls may still be around you.  In fact they likely are this night.

After all … it is Halloween.


Better out than in.

I do not normally do this, but this irritated me very much and since I know that I have pretty much no recourse save maintaining my own personal standard, at least I can get this out of my system.  Who this applies to does not matter; it can be applied in some portion to anybody anywhere anytime.  If this scenario is not familiar to you, well then I am very glad to hear this.  And if you are reading this and are taken aback and say “I would never do this” … well, I bet you somebody who has or does. 

I have plenty of friends here that are volunteer providers – I can safely say that this does not apply to any of you, so please accept this as a generalization, consider the reasons behind it, and remember that according to Forest Gump, professional is as professional does – being paid has nothing to do with it.

And do not think that I am being “holier than thou,” there are just as many slackers on the paid end of the fence.  It doesn’t matter what your affiliation, it’s the profession, the vocation that you’re representing every time you walk onto a scene.  Don’t just do your job, do it well.

Dear Random First Aid Squad Crew:

I do hope that I am directing this to the correct person or people, after all – it was hard to tell what (if any) your affiliation or level of training was, seeing as how you all walked into the apartment in T-shirts and jeans.

I am truly sorry that this little old lady had some pain which woke her up in the wee hours and frightened her, resulting in a call to 911 at zero-dark-thirty hours.  Believe me when I sincerely say I can empathize with being pulled from the comfort of a warm bed and summoned out into the chill rainy night.  However I would like to respectfully request that in future, you refrain from saying just how much you don’t want to be there right now, and just how much you would rather be back in bed … especially after my partner and I just spent the ten minutes we were there before you reassuring the nice lady that she is not bothering us by calling 911 in her time of need.

Curiosity leads me to ask if there was anything going on outside of the apartment, because it became a little awkward when most of you stepped outside to continue your conversations – leaving the one young gentleman as the only one inside to manage the patient move and the stretcher … including lifting it.  He was helpful and did the best he could to work with us; apparently he had not read the guidebook yet.

In trying to complete my documentation I’ll admit I’m a little baffled.  I’m not quite certain at what point the patient condition deteriorated so rapidly that you felt the need to barrel down the wet back roads at upwards of 65 mph (more than double the posted speed limit for most of the ride), on what was initially a routine transport to a local hospital.  What I do know however, is that my partner, the patient and your crewmember were all in the back of that truck.  Perhaps you have yet to see the end of that particular ABC Afterschool Special, but I can tell you that it ends very badly and usually with bagpipes.

I absolutely understand the premise and motivations behind the volunteer system, most if not all of the fellow providers started in this field on a volunteer agency, myself included.  I appreciate that there are people out there who are still willing to give the true gift of their time and attention back to their communities.  However the reality remains that just showing up only gets you points on a Glasgow Coma Scale and does very little to actually help the people you’re claiming to serve.

If you are not up for it, if you do not feel like getting out of bed, if your personal issues are going to prevent you from being 100% there for the patient when they need you – then please use the option that I do not have, stay home.

Believe me, I won’t hold it against you.


Just Keep Swimming ...

I am a big FISH fan, and I don't necessarily mean the ones with fins and scales (though they are tasty). If you're not familiar with the "FISH!" principles, here's the excerpt from Wikipedia.

On a visit to Seattle, Christensen observed how animated and happy the employees at Seattle's Pike Place Fish Market were in their work. They filled orders by flinging fish to each other, inciting laughter from the customers and compliments about their throwing/catching abilities, or commiseration if they missed. Employees would often invite customers to join the fun. The Pike Place employees gave their complete attention to each of their customers and ensured each had an enjoyable visit.
Christensen realized that not only were the workers making a routine errand fun for themselves and their customers, they also were selling tons of fish. He constructed the FISH! Philosophy from his observations of Pike Place employees, arriving at four key concepts:

• Play
• Make Their Day
• Be There (Often referred to as "Be Present" - This is more to do with giving your full attention to a task or individual.)
• CHOOSE YOUR ATTITUDE

You can pick up the book for a buck or two used, it's a short easy read and is the key to what's become a huge business model for teamwork and morale building. I really recommend it, especially if you're personally feeling down about your job.

I often hear these days how "Work isn't fun anymore." That it isn't like the old days, you can't pull pranks anymore, you can't joke with anyone anymore, everything is about the negative. I have to counter that with - is it really? Or is it perhaps ... just you?

You choose to be there, even if your circumstances dictate that for the time being you must work at a particular place, your just showing up is a choice. And if you must be there, then why not have some control over how your day is going to be? Don't get me wrong, I do not have rose-colored glasses and I did not drink the Kool Aid. I know full well both the good and the bad of the places I work. But again, if I must be there then there's no sense keeping it negative and making myself more miserable than circumstances dictate. Negative people are not only toxic, they're contagious.

Choose your attitude.   How you decide to approach your job will dictate your work environment, period. You're tired of having shitty days at work? Then find something to laugh about, lighten up, spend a few minutes being all about someone else - when they feel better you will too. If you can't change your work circumstances then step up and control your work environment.

I work several doubles a month and at my age it really kind of sucks. Yet even though I was wrung out and sweaty and already beat, I had a really good night last night. Yes, I went on jobs where stupidity was rampant and yes there was the same bullshit drama that goes on - but it was still a good night. Because the four of us on last night came to work because we had to, but enjoyed it because we wanted to. With the business of shift change over, the salsa music went on, Corinne and Lauren made dinner, we talked about memories from 9/11, finding humor in the scars. Then we watched bad movies in the dark like a bad episode of "Mystery Science Theater 3000."

I'm home, and I'm still tired - but I don't feel that soul-crushing drain of when you're unhappy about what you do. Laugh, play, choose the way you're going to work - don't let someone else dictate how you should think. It will make you a better partner and a better clinician.

And before anyone even says it - yes I was not working somewhere where posting is enforced and you are cut off from the rest of the tour for a good chunk of the shift. I am very aware of what that has done to shred what was a powerful and exceptional dynamic. However the principle remains the same, it's just on a smaller scale. You can only control what happens in the back of your ambulance, don't let anyone take that away from you. If you have to come to work then you pick how you feel about it, I can't do that for you.

One of the oldest adages is "Laughter is the best medicine." Well considering that giving medicine is pretty much what we're supposed to be doing, then perhaps we as a profession are long overdue for some self-administration.

So thank you Corinne, not only for the meaty goodness but for being the undefeated champion at "Name That Hymn." And thank you Bill for remembering how to dance to Cuban Pete and making us watch Broadway musical numbers every week. And thank you Lauren for the smashed potatoes, putting up with all our teasing and freely admitting when you don't get the joke. See you all next week, same bat time, same bat channel. I think next week's theme should be "Eddie and The Cruisers."

I'll get off my rambling soap box now. I know I'm not shiny happy all the time, but choosing to find the fun in what I do certainly does help. We work with some remarkable people and getting to know them is half the fun.

The Power of Words

“The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.” ~ Mark Twain

One of the things that irks me is folks who say, "I don't have time to read." From the time the Sumerians first took rock to rock and etched out a picture of a damn cow, the skills of reading and writing have been the power behind the evolution of man. The ability to record the written word and have it understood by someone else created an entirely new communication forum. It allowed for records to be kept, history to be documented, directions to be given, news to be shared - over any distance.

Over the millennia those crude scratchings and drawings evolved into elegant script, defining not only the development of language around the world but reinforcing the existence of a class system as well. Reading is powerful, it transfers knowledge, it promotes thought and it can contradict the status quo. The seat of power for any of the major religions is taken from their scriptures - which is, gasp, reading. For centuries, across different cultures, the ability to read and write was considered a gift that could only be afforded by the upper classes. And unlike today's children those who were educated could speak, read and write in multiple languages. Why? Because to communicate is powerful.

Reading inspires ideas which bring about change. Every "Revolution," from the Industrial to the American, is rooted in words which give people new ideas and sparked the imagination and ideals of otherwise ordinary men and women.

As we move into the modern age, technology took us away from the written word. First radio, movies and finally television pulled our heads out of the books and showered us with new and wonderful sensory input. The downside to this appears to be a generation or two lost to the Siren's call of visual and auditory input over the power and beauty of the written world. Everything is flashy, loud on some level and above all, supposed to be fast fast fast.

What is interesting though is that on some levels, it's come full circle. The internet is a vast expanse of possibility, the ability to connect the world has changed our global community on numerous levels. However the evolution of this medium, and its use in all its different forms, seems to have brought us back to a basic truth. One that was captured (ironically enough) by writing two thousand years ago:

"In the beginning was the Word ..."

Yes yes, I realize what "word" means here - but why choose that particular term to define it? Because words have structure and can be assigned meaning, and used to promote love or destruction. Words are everywhere for us now.

Texting is often faster and more preferred than calling. Why ... that's reading isn't it? Millions of emails fly around the world as method of daily communication. Well look at that, you have to read those too. Even the fact that you've gotten this far in a pointless, rambling blog rant indicates that you in fact do have not only the ability, but the time to read.

Don't look at reading like a chore or task, something that you struggle though only when you must. Turning that page or clicking that screen and absorbing the content behind those small characters is an immense power, one that can change your life. It's ok to read on a screen, while I am in fact a lover of actual books the reality is that this is the 21st century and the power of the written word remains behind whether you read it on a screen or a page.

If you've read this, then consider this task - go up to your little search bar and pick just one topic. One historical personage you dig or event that fascinates you - something that inspires you privately and isn't related to necessary school or work task. I recommend quotes by Mark Twain, his wit is unbelievable. Take just a sliver of time to read something new that interests you, makes you laugh or makes you angry. No matter what you think of it, you will walk away with those characters doing their magic in your brain, creating a fraction of new knowledge and experience that will add to the whole of who you are.

And please stop telling me that you don't have time to read.

The Awakening

There are a few truths that I know about myself. One is that despite my very human fear of growing old, I like my age. With age really does come a change in perspective and attitude that becomes the sum of your experience. A friend sent me this yesterday (thanks Debbie). It's excellent so I had to swipe it to share. Please read it and smile, and know that I believe these things in you as well as myself.

The Awakening
(Virginia Marie Swift)

A time comes in your life when you finally get it … when, in the midst of all your fears and insanity, you stop dead in your tracks and somewhere the voice inside your head cries out…"ENOUGH!" Enough fighting and crying and blaming and struggling to hold on. Then, like a child quieting down after a tantrum, you blink back your tears and begin to look at the world through new eyes.

This is your awakening.

You realize it’s time to stop hoping and waiting for something to change - or for happiness, safety and security to magically appear over the next horizon.

You realize that in the real world there aren’t always fairy tale endings, and that any guarantee of “happily ever after” must begin with you … and in the process a sense of serenity is born of acceptance.

You awaken to the fact that you are not perfect and that not everyone will always love, appreciate or approve of who or what you are … and that’s OK. They are entitled to their own views and opinions.

You learn the importance of loving and championing yourself … and in the process a sense of new found confidence is born of self-approval.

Your stop complaining and blaming other people for the things they did to you – or didn’t do for you – and you learn that the only thing you can really count on is the unexpected.

You learn that people don’t always say what they mean or mean what they say and that not everyone will always be there for you and everything isn’t always about you.

So, you learn to stand on your own and to take care of yourself … and in the process a sense of safety and security is born of self-reliance.

You stop judging and pointing fingers and you begin to accept people as they are and to overlook their shortcomings and human frailties … and in the process a sense of peace and contentment is born of forgiveness.

You learn to open up to new worlds and different points of view. You begin reassessing and redefining who you are and what you really stand for.

You learn the difference between wanting and needing and you begin to discard the doctrines and values you’ve outgrown, or should never have bought into to begin with.

You learn that there is power and glory in creating and contributing and you stop maneuvering through life merely as a “consumer” looking for you next fix.

You learn that principles such as honesty and integrity are not the outdated ideals of a bygone era, but the mortar that holds together the foundation upon which you must build a life.

You learn that you don’t know everything, it’s not you job to save the world and that you can’t teach a pig to sing. You learn the only cross to bear is the one you choose to carry and that martyrs get burned at the stake.

Then you learn about love. You learn to look at relationships as they really are and not as you would have them be. You learn that alone does not mean lonely.

You stop trying to control people, situations and outcomes. You learn to distinguish between guilt and responsibility and the importance of setting boundaries and learning to say NO.

You also stop working so hard at putting your feelings aside, smoothing things over and ignoring your needs.

You learn that your body really is your temple. You begin to care for it and treat it with respect. You begin to eat a balanced diet, drinking more water, and take more time to exercise.

You learn that being tired fuels doubt, fear, and uncertainty and so you take more time to rest. And, just like food fuels the body, laughter fuels our soul. So you take more time to laugh and to play.

You learn that, for the most part, you get in life what you deserve, and that much of life truly is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

You learn that anything worth achieving is worth working for and that wishing for something to happen is different than working toward making it happen.

More importantly, you learn that in order to achieve success you need direction, discipline and perseverance. You learn that no one can do it all alone, and that it’s OK to risk asking for help.

You learn the only thing you must truly fear is fear itself. You learn to step right into and through your fears because you know that whatever happens you can handle it and to give in to fear is to give away the right to live life on your own terms.

You learn to fight for your life and not to squander it living under a cloud of impending doom.

You learn that life isn’t always fair, you don’t always get what you think you deserve and that sometimes bad things happen to unsuspecting, good people … and you lean not to always take it personally.

You learn that nobody’s punishing you and everything isn’t always somebody’s fault. It’s just life happening. You learn to admit when you are wrong and to build bridges instead of walls.

You lean that negative feelings such as anger, envy and resentment must be understood and redirected or they will suffocate the life out of you and poison the universe that surrounds you.

You learn to be thankful and to take comfort in many of the simple things we take for granted, things that millions of people upon the earth can only dream about: a full refrigerator, clean running water, a soft warm bed, a long hot shower.

Then, you begin to take responsibility for yourself by yourself and you make yourself a promise to never betray yourself and to never, ever settle for less than you heart’s desire.

You make it a point to keep smiling, to keep trusting, and to stay open to every wonderful possibility.

You hang a wind chime outside your window so you can listen to the wind.

Finally, with courage in you heart, you take a stand, you take a deep breath, and you begin to design the life you want to live as best as you can.

Blue Roses

Blue Roses
by Rudyard Kipling

Roses red and roses white
Plucked I for my love's delight.
She would none of all my posies -
Bade me gather her blue roses.

Half the world I wandered through,
Seeking where such flowers grew.
Half the world unto my quest
Answered me with laugh and jest.

Home I came at wintertide,
But my silly love had died.
Seeking with her latest breath
Roses from the arms of Death.

It may be beyond the grave
She shall find what she would have.
Mine was but an idle quest -
Roses white and red are best!

Oh they paved Paradise, and put up a parking lot ...

I have been awake for more hours than I care to count. My body is fatigued and beaten, all to a purpose, but exhausted nonetheless. I trudge out the door, numb and exhausted. This is the kind of tired that disorients you and makes anything more than reptilian functions unbearable.

As I step out into the night air a powdery sprinkle hits my face – cold, but not quite wet … The light catches the icy flurries and mocks the fireflies of summer with its sparks of blue-white chill. Winter, like Death, is a great equalizer and it manages to cleanse even this concrete terrarium of its sins. The sugary coating giving the hard edges just a few minutes of serenity before it is cast aside. Like the scullery maid trying on a glass slipper and tossing it aside, being too fine for her taste.

My thoughts of the day drone in my head in a frenetic tumble, exhaustion making them slide together and tangle into knots of “should, must, have to,” choking the coherence out of me. But if I can make to the car, then I can make it home. If I can make it home, then I can make it to my family.

If I can make it to my family … well then I can finally rest.

The snow sprinkles down on me in a wispy tumble. My pace picks up – not because I’m cold or wet or unhappy but because the brisk air pulls the stale breath from my body. It takes with it the weight of arguments lost, frustrations bellowing and fears manifested.

In its place is the night air, there is little so clean as the smell of snow. The promise of that temporary peace, rest, that unique mantle of quiet pulls itself over me. As I stand there my thoughts unravel, slowly, like a child undoing a snarled fishing line.

Each breath – in – out – slowly now – in – out – pull gently, take your time – in – out – don’t rush – in – out – it’s just a knot, you can undo it – in – out – all will be well, just focus and breathe.

The capricious crystals pepper my eyelids. A whisper of icy cold against my face and in a heartbeat it’s gone, the fragile touch snuffed out by the heat of my skin. I take another breath and as I let it out a small breeze swirls, the night exhaling with me and not caring if I even notice.

I can feel the cold now; it urges me back into motion – towards warmth, towards home.

And so, on Brigit’s Night, in the most unlikely of places I am reminded of a very basic truth. That Life, like the snow, like the night – is heartrendingly beautiful and gloriously unconcerned with you, for it will continue whether you will it otherwise or not. So appreciate it, but do not worry about what it will or will not do, for you cannot change it. Stand too long and the beauty fades, leaving you cold, leaving you dark. To Live is to move inexorably forward – like the seasons, like the night into day. That it is the cold that brings you warmth, if you let it.

That was my walk across the parking lot. How was yours?