Ode to social work

I'm a social worker. I have been for over 40 years. It's tough work. For many social workers, it is front line work. The profession has many true first responders in it who show up in ER's, child abuse scenes, domestic violence, mental health and addiction crisis, family deaths, community disasters and so on. When the term first responder is used people think of police, fire and ambulance. Social workers don't drive around with lights and sirens. The work os often dangerous going into homes where safety can be quite uncertain or down back alleys to help those in the sex trade or trying to find their next fix.

Even those not on the front lines, will work with traumatized people day in and day out. It's the common denominator of the people we see.

Our clients also die. Suicide, overdose, murder as well as the tragedies of life on the streets all add up in the lives of our client experiences. None of us walk away unaffected. It is impossible.

The common risk is burnout or fatigue from vicarious trauma that comes from witnessing. Many approach the work thinking they are tough and can handle whatever comes along. It is a lie. Some get themselves promoted or transferred into positions where the exposure is less intense.  Most just engage in DAMN behaviour (Denial, Avoidance, Minimization, Numbing).

On the other hand, self care is a real need and meditation is part of that. Other things like diet, exercise, hobbies and interests and supportive relationships are also part of the menu. It is vital that we find the calm in work full of chaotic experiences.

Unwritting the Story

Unwriting the story of my life

is stepping back from the cliffs

where the vulnerable live

It is no longer being able to touch

the precious humanity of the abused

Whose bodies and minds carry the scars of the violence

To not be the witness of lives lost

at the hands of others

who have felled the blows or handed the drugs

It is to pull back from the child

who looks up unsure

which choice will be made, love or hurt

To let go of the tenderness so foreign

to the person whose home 

is the ground between two trees at river's edge

To stand back from the begger

who stands before the coffee shop

between stays at the hospital when the voices inside erupt

It is to know they all have come 

to live within the cells of my body

where homes have been made for all

The desperation and loneliness 

touch deeply

Many are gone as the evils have won

Some are blossoming 

as the new flowers of spring

showing the possibility of change

Too many get to the edge of hope

but lose their grip

falling back into the abyss

Evil has not been my only story

but I have touched evil often

such that it has walked with me too many days

I turn and there it is

humanity has no shortage 

of evil's presence

My body after years of walking with evil

bows down in pains

too long carried

Who now will be my witness

who now can carry the burdens

I no longer can shoulder 

Unwritting my memories 

is not to be done

new ones must be found

The pain and evil I have witnessed

must not be forgotten

as they are the very legacy that many seek to deny exist

If we are not the witness then who will be

it must be those willing to walk the pathway

I joined and must now leave

There was passion and joy

in my journey which has passed along

new joys new passions new pathways must surely await

© Peter Choate, 2016

Meditation Consumerism and Competition

"I'm the king of the castle, and you're the dirty rascal!" Who doesn't remember that from childhood. It's a game where you vie for the top of the hill. It's one of the many ways we introduce children to the world of competition - be better than the other.

Consumerism in our society has a smilier dynamic. Have the better house, car, TV, clothes - whichever. Even if you can't afford it, aspire to it. In consumerism, our society determines human worth based upon external measures. Beauty becomes defined by comparison to models, actors and actresses.

This same type of consumer competition can creep into meditation and spirituality. It might be called "guru shopping". In some of my trips to India, I have come across this. Sitting in a chai shop, seekers compare which ashrams, temples and gurus they have been to. It too becomes the "king of the castle" moment.

Here in the west, it might be thought of as which meditation seminar, leader, groupie have you been hooked up with. It is the meditation self help business.

This is not to say that most of the meditation teachers are not genuine. It is about how we approach the work. Is it about gathering stickers for you star chart or is it about the search for understanding the self? As we approach meditation, our purpose matters as "success" can only be measured by what is going on internally and only you can determine it.

There are times I certainly don't like that truth. I would much rather have some way of having a goal chart that I could tick off and measure improvement - oh - and show it around. Then I would also know how much farther I need to go. I have come to understand that there is no end just the journey. I could gather a million stickers for my chart and still not be there. Understanding the self cannot be a finished journey as the self is always changing. Who we were yesterday is not who we are today.

Beauty Beauty Beauty

How are thou defined

I see a dying tree reflect on the pool

And I see beauty

But others might see only the dying tree

We are obsessed with you oh beauty

Yet we really don't know you

For you are a changeling who is manipulated 

We are told what you are by those who would sell you

How can you tolerate the lies

Told about you

As there is no truth about you

But that which each of us holds to be so

© Peter Choate, 2016