First responders, social workers and health care professionals get into their occupations to make a positive difference in the lives of people, families, communities and society at large. For each one of them, there will be magical moments when the dream happens - a child's life is better; a rescue occurs; a life saved. It is then that the choice of profession makes the most sense.
There are also times when the opposite happens. Given the nature of the work, it is impossible to avoid tragic, traumatic moments. The good outcomes are remembered, retold and celebrated. The bad ones haunt, creeping into dreams, waking in the middle of the night or suddenly felt when one event brings back the unforgettable images of a past one.
These polar opposites sandwich many very ordinary experiences that just don't seem to be great or terrible.
Every profession has some people who should not be there - the police officer with racist thoughts; the paramedic who no longer cares; the social worker for whom the alcoholic parent is not worth the effort --- but, they are very much the minority even though they are typically the ones that will make headlines. The vast majority in these profession go to work each day with the hope of doing good. Thus, when they get attacked the harm is that much greater - the social worker who did all they knew how to do but a child died; the ER nurse who sat with the family whose member died; the police officer attending a fatal event.
What are we to do with the attacks that come from people who just don't get the work or who were called out because of their own behaviours and then choose to seek some kind of revenge. Their goal is malevolent maliciousness as they cannot hold on to being self responsible.
It is the success cases that cause people to enter the work and stay there. As a society, it is vital to support those who do good work but who face tragedy as well as those maligned. These are hard jobs. We hear of the fire fighters in London who now comb through the remains of Grenfell Tower looking for bodies; the police officers who responded to the attacks on London Bridge; the police officers responding near Calgary to the armed robbery; the child protection worker who must face a child tonight and tell them they are leaving the family home or the shelter worker who will find the dead client. If society wants these jobs done, society must support those who do them and watch carefully when attacks occur.
These people also work in systems. Will the electorate be prepared to insist on change so that oppression, racism, misogyny and so on can be challenged?
So then how does meditation work into this? I sat listening to a worker who spoke of a colleague's suicide; of a foster parent speaking about valiant efforts to make a difference in the lives of children coming into the home; of an Aboriginal elder speaking of the burden of racism and trauma. All require healing through prayer, ceremony, peer support and self care practices such as meditation. To be good at the work over time, requires that we know ourselves, our strengths and our vulnerabilities. We must also be able to spot when our internal resources are waning. Here too meditation can help as we come to know the size of our coping container and try to keep it healthy.
The truth I know
Dawn came but the sun did not rise
Fog in my head hid it away
Birds sang in the morning light
The song could not be heard
The melody off key to the ears
That smell, unmistakable, but why here
looking for the maggots
They always came with the stench
Eerily leading to the site of death
No maggots, no death, no stench
Just the shards of them in my brain
Not leaving is that having been seen
The trail of each occasion on top of the other
The litter of damage left by the ones
The ones whose tragedy lives within them
Tolerated only by rage
Tossed to others when within explodes
Love has been lost
Tenderness furiously hoped for
Despondently denied with only ranting frenzy left
Loneliness the escort to the wrath felt daily
Feeling righteous justice sought
Never won as your world appreciated by only you
The barrier to reprieve locked away
Fury, hate and revenge having become
The only companions who will walk with you
Compassion offered but imperceptible
Now beyond reach appealing no more
Trauma owns all that you are, unless
Reprieve is there for you
Caress its image, let the ghosts fade
Even with trepidation take the step
Forfeit the guilt, relinquish the shame
The sacrifice is over let blessing arrive
What has been done yielded to joy lying dormant
© Peter Choate, 2017
There are also times when the opposite happens. Given the nature of the work, it is impossible to avoid tragic, traumatic moments. The good outcomes are remembered, retold and celebrated. The bad ones haunt, creeping into dreams, waking in the middle of the night or suddenly felt when one event brings back the unforgettable images of a past one.
These polar opposites sandwich many very ordinary experiences that just don't seem to be great or terrible.
Every profession has some people who should not be there - the police officer with racist thoughts; the paramedic who no longer cares; the social worker for whom the alcoholic parent is not worth the effort --- but, they are very much the minority even though they are typically the ones that will make headlines. The vast majority in these profession go to work each day with the hope of doing good. Thus, when they get attacked the harm is that much greater - the social worker who did all they knew how to do but a child died; the ER nurse who sat with the family whose member died; the police officer attending a fatal event.
What are we to do with the attacks that come from people who just don't get the work or who were called out because of their own behaviours and then choose to seek some kind of revenge. Their goal is malevolent maliciousness as they cannot hold on to being self responsible.
It is the success cases that cause people to enter the work and stay there. As a society, it is vital to support those who do good work but who face tragedy as well as those maligned. These are hard jobs. We hear of the fire fighters in London who now comb through the remains of Grenfell Tower looking for bodies; the police officers who responded to the attacks on London Bridge; the police officers responding near Calgary to the armed robbery; the child protection worker who must face a child tonight and tell them they are leaving the family home or the shelter worker who will find the dead client. If society wants these jobs done, society must support those who do them and watch carefully when attacks occur.
These people also work in systems. Will the electorate be prepared to insist on change so that oppression, racism, misogyny and so on can be challenged?
So then how does meditation work into this? I sat listening to a worker who spoke of a colleague's suicide; of a foster parent speaking about valiant efforts to make a difference in the lives of children coming into the home; of an Aboriginal elder speaking of the burden of racism and trauma. All require healing through prayer, ceremony, peer support and self care practices such as meditation. To be good at the work over time, requires that we know ourselves, our strengths and our vulnerabilities. We must also be able to spot when our internal resources are waning. Here too meditation can help as we come to know the size of our coping container and try to keep it healthy.
The truth I know
Dawn came but the sun did not rise
Fog in my head hid it away
Birds sang in the morning light
The song could not be heard
The melody off key to the ears
That smell, unmistakable, but why here
looking for the maggots
They always came with the stench
Eerily leading to the site of death
No maggots, no death, no stench
Just the shards of them in my brain
Not leaving is that having been seen
The trail of each occasion on top of the other
The litter of damage left by the ones
The ones whose tragedy lives within them
Tolerated only by rage
Tossed to others when within explodes
Love has been lost
Tenderness furiously hoped for
Despondently denied with only ranting frenzy left
Loneliness the escort to the wrath felt daily
Feeling righteous justice sought
Never won as your world appreciated by only you
The barrier to reprieve locked away
Fury, hate and revenge having become
The only companions who will walk with you
Compassion offered but imperceptible
Now beyond reach appealing no more
Trauma owns all that you are, unless
Reprieve is there for you
Caress its image, let the ghosts fade
Even with trepidation take the step
Forfeit the guilt, relinquish the shame
The sacrifice is over let blessing arrive
What has been done yielded to joy lying dormant
© Peter Choate, 2017
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