The Middletown Press (Middletown, CT)
Finding meaning in life during tumultuous times
“In the end, what matters most: How well did you love? How fully did you live? How deeply did you let go?” — Jack Kornfield
Before entering the ministry, one of my favorites hobbies was to collect and savor quotes that spoke to various aspects of my life. In fact, this hobby remains a favorite of mine and, in a certain sense, is critical to connecting with those under my care as a chaplain. That is, I share words of wisdom (quotes included) out of the belief that they can powerfully resonate with those that are willing and able to receive them. In fact, upon discovering the above quote from Jack Kornfield and how electric it felt, I immediately shared it with my family via email and group text.
In that exchange, a lesson occurred in how powerful a quote can be. Upon receiving that quote, one of my children reacted with sudden alarm and (despite feeling it wasn’t consistent with their assessment of my mental well-being) became concerned that I was contemplating suicide. Then, out of an abundance of caution, quickly proceeded to call each family member until one was able to reach me and I could confirm both the misunderstanding and my well-being. This led to an impromptu family meeting and that afforded me more time to ponder the charged triplicate of questions posed by Kornfield and my work as a chaplain with my family.
As a chaplain, I am often with people as they journey between what they had hoped for and their new reality. As such, my context is lessons learned from spending time with human souls as they come face to face with the preciousness, fragility, impermanence and transitory nature of this gift of life.
Kornfield’s first question is, “How well did you love?” Love is the great elixir of life. It is a powerful, motivating force that allows us to find meaning and purpose in our lives. As I provide spiritual care to someone near the end of their life, there is everpresent hope for connection with loved ones. No matter what has transpired or whether there is estrangement or distance, there always remains the desire for reconciliation. I have witnessed numerous instances in which family members have been absent from one another for lengthy periods and show up at their loved one’s bedside ridden with guilt and grief because they did not love well while their loved one could fully receive that love.
This past weekend while serving in the emergency room, I observed a young female resident talking about how earlier in the day she had called her father to wish him happy birthday even though she could only talk for a minute. Sixty seconds of love that buoyed a father and strengthened the connection between a daughter and father, as well.
Kornfield’s second question is, “How fully did you live?” In her poem, “Wild Geese,” Mary Oliver pens these words: “Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting — over and over announcing your place in the family of things.” In the poem “Summer Day,” Oliver asks famously and directly: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
As I visit with those who are nearing the end of their journey, there is a heightened appreciation for life and whether one has fully appreciated not just its length but its depth. One examines their life and assesses whether they have lived fully and renders a verdict that brings peace, something less than peace, or regret.
Kornfield’s last and third question is, “How deeply did you let go?” In our society, we are so often caught up in the notion of self-mastery and illusions of control. It makes one wonder whether it is even possible to let go and, if so, to what degree? The theory of acceptance posits five stages of self-acceptance: (i) resisting — struggling against what comes (i.e. “go away), (ii) exploring — turning towards discomfort with curiosity (i.e. “what am I feeling?”), (iii) tolerating — safely enduring, holding steady (i.e. “I don’t like this, but I can stand it”), (iv) allowing — letting feelings come and go (i.e. “it’s OK, I can make space for this”) and (v) befriending — seeing value in difficult emotional experiences (i.e. “what can I learn from this?”)
How deeply one is able to let go comes down to a measure of faith. In Luke 22:42, Jesus declares, “Not my will, but Thy will be done.” During my chaplain residency, I met a patient with a terminal illness and over a period of a week or so, I visited him often. The patient looked healthy, talked about his faith, prayed for me, and indicated he was ready to be present with his God. I had never seen someone with such equanimity. When he passed at the end of the week, one knew
that he was at peace and home with his Creator.
In these stressful and chaotic times, we are often advised to institute a ritual or practice of selfcare. As you navigate your journey, I would invite you to follow the words of Rainer Maria Rilke to “live the questions now.” Live these questions daily: how well am I loving?; how fully am I living?; and how deeply am I letting go? In doing so, you will meet with grace in uncommon hours and your living will not be in vain.
Namaste.