dawn treader

Woke up from a bad dream yesterday morning at 5am and couldn't get back to sleep. I was thinking too much about it. So Roz and I went for a walk around the lagoon on the Northwestern campus, which is something we've heard about but never done.

The sun had already coloured the sky a pale misty blue. There was a cool humidity that reminded me of Florida; sticky but cool. It would be remarkable enough to say that we crossed Sheridan Rd. (aka Darwin's Highway) without seeing a single car on its entire length, but it gets better.

The lagoon, although not naturally occurring, is thoughtfully designed. You cannot see all of it at one time. You've got to walk completely around it on a paved path to discover all the hidden nooks, quiet benches, and of course, photo ops, to get the full effect. The water has three fountains that shoot straight up. I suppose these aggitate the water enough so as to avoid becoming a mosquito farm. There were remarkably few bugs, too; with the exception of the couple of clouds that Roz and I walked through (*blechth*). The water reflected the pale blue of the sky. Where the willow trees overhung, their shadowy reflection turned the water teal. I love willow trees. These are not as big and gnarly as the ones at Spy Pond. The ones at Spy Pond are the best willows I've ever seen. These are nice too.

Roz and I walked along, I on the path, Roz all over the dewy grass and as much into the bushes as she could get. She was quite wet by the time we got home. When we got to the lake we walked out onto the rocks. There were fish jumping out of the water! They looked like maybe a couple four pounds or more. I gots ta git me a fishin' rod! Roz wasn't as interested in sitting meditatively on the rocks as I was, so we didn't stay long.

At Oswego we also had a Great Lake we could go visit. It wasn't nearly as pretty as this. Maybe because we were on the windward side, or maybe because Oswego is just desolate anyways, and that, rather that a pretty pale blue sky, is what the lake reflects. Oz's lake was murky and dull, except for wintertime when the pack ice formed and the wind, oh that wind, ripped across it.

The horizon this morning was soft and clear, no wind, flat water. "Flat as a pancake" as Al Charron would say, commenting on the condition of the ocean, when he had deep sea fishing in mind on the "Cardsense". What I wouldn't give for a barbecued Bluefish right now!

Roz and I finished our circumnavigation of the NU lagoon and headed back to Seabury. On the way we stopped at the Shakespeare Garden. It's a quiet little spot behind the Garrett Seminary chapel. They're our neighbors across the street. It supposedly has at least one of every plant Bill referenced in his plays. I'm not up on my plants so I'll just have to take their word for it. It's pretty though.

By the time we finished we had walked for over an hour. Bright golden threads were outlining the clouds, the dewy mist on the grass was almost gone, the horizon was more in focus and the sky was becomming a more familiar shade of blue. Back at home I still couldn't get back to sleep. Not the case for the pooch, though. She went right down for another hour of sound sleep.

update

Philadelphia didn't work out the way I expected. I played phone-tag with the Canon for Deployment for about a week until we finally connected last Friday. She called to cancel our meeting. Apparantly the bishop has a policy of not accepting postulants who've been rejected by other dioceses. She said she tried to contact the Dio. of MA to get more information about me but was unable to get anywhere (big surprise, join the club). Some people who might have been able to shed some light have retired and taken their information with them. In other cases there have been changes in personnel. All they could say was that I did come through the system and was denied, but that's it. She seemed to feel that there was some curoius guarding going on. The only way the bishop might change his mind is if he speaks with the Bp of MA himself. I managed to get her to promise to contact me again when they've talked, and maybe get another whack at a meeting, but it'll take about two weeks due to one Bp being out of town. So the long and the short of it is a delay within the delay; I'm out $158, the cost of the flight; but we're still in communication, and until they've slammed the door on me (as one has already), PA is still on. To say much more would be to break Mother's rule: if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.

In other news, K. and I have completed our move to on-campus housing. I've got one more shelf unit to build tonight, which I've been putting off all day. Also, I've got to figure out how to attach a lamp cord to the ceiling so I can install our overhead light above the kitchen workspace. We picked up this perfect small fixture at IKEA. It's actually a wall mount, but I've modified it to work elsewise. Then it's odds and ends until we get ready for our house-warming soiree. Then, later in October I'm planning a chocolate party. More on that later.

IT'S OVER!

Woo-hoo! Last day of CPE.

We had a lovely breakfast with presentations of gifts and certificates, etc. I presented the class' gift to our supervisor: "Old Turtle and the Broken Truth" by Douglas Wood, illustrated by Jon J. Muth. It's a wonderful book that brings a tear to my eye every time, and quite apropos thematically to our group's CPE experience. I briefly summarized how it relates to us, synopsized it, then presented it to our supervisor. I was complemented on my delivery by the acting department chair, a resident, and a number of staff members. I was just ad libbing, but they thought it was great. Kissed the Blarney Stone, have I. Anyways, then we went out to lunch at the top of the John Hancock building; 97th floor. I thought this was a terriffic idea. Then we got on the elevator.

Okay, so I have this aversion to elevators. Actually, it's more like an intense aversion to the feeling of falling. I know elevators are very safe, but they have an unobstructed route to earth via gravity, prevented only by thin cables. When we got to the top all I could think about was the impending trip back down. When I wasn't thinking about that, I was thinking about September 11th: the day I was supposed to be in "Windows on The World" at the top of the World Trade Center. Too long a story to get into here. Suffice it to say, I was distracted. As if that weren't enough, there was lightning: my other fear. So while I'm feeling the building sway (perhaps more sensitive to it than others), and dreading the trip back down (and at the same time calculating how long it would take to go down by stairs), bolts of lightning are crisscrossing just outside the windows. The windows made from very thin slices of glass. The only thing between us and atmosphere. The lightning was made worse, oh yes, by flash photography, courtesy of the tourists three tables over. My jaw and teeth still ache from the tension. But now I can say I did the top of the Hancock Building. The food was just okay.

The company, which is of course the most important thing, was stellar, as usual. I can think of few people I'd rather dine with. Next time, and I sincerely hope there is a next time, I would like to dine closer to earth.

room with a view

None of the patients have a room with a view on my unit -- unless of course they've got a penchant for duct work. One of the reasons I started this blog was to give you an opportunity to see what I see. Believe me, there's a lot to see in Chicago. This is the view from the orthopaedics unit seen at the end of the hall. Sweet.

One of these days I'll do some serious city exploring and get more images for you. The city is really, really huge. You could fit a dozen Bostons in it easily. A marathon here, unlike Boston which starts half way across the state, can be run entirely within city limits. There are a number of major professional sports teams including two MLB teams. The team you cheer on is determined by where you live. Apparantly no self-respecting Southsider would wear a Cubs jersey. No kidding. Same city, polarized fans. Odd. They even have two ways to pronounce the city's name: Sha-KA-go, and Shuh-CAW-go. Not sure which side of the city says which. They also have a funny kind of nasal accent. They drive differently here too. I never want to hear another complaint about Boston drivers. These people are truly crazy. One foot on the gas, one foot in the grave. In particular they need better driver education on the just and proper use of the horn. I swear they beep for no reason. I was walking along one day and this guy comes driving up the street and leans on the horn. There wasn't anybody around! And he wasn't talking to me either. He didn't stop or anything, just kept driving. Go figure. Then there's the people who beep at the car in front of them while the light is still red. Honestly, where do they think they're going to go? These people must be stopped. As for the Chicagoans themselves, I find the people friendlier in Boston than here. Many say Bostonians are cold, but I disagree. Finally, in terms of attitude, compared to the size of Chicago or anywhere else, Boston is the biggest city in the world. There's just not the same rabid pride here as there is back home. Ah well, can't all be perfect.

I.Q.139

Just took an on-line I.Q. test and my result was 139, which is pretty good I think. They compared me to Plato, a "visionary philosopher" -- not too shabby. I don't know enough about I.Q. tests to know what the number means, but I do know I'd rather be compared to someone a little closer to my own age. I like Albert Einstein. On some of the answers the test results said I chose wrong, but I didn't. I remember making the correct choice. I might not rate Einstein, but I remember what I answered better than the web site. Now I'm off to the SAT Question of The Day. I love that. I wish they'd give more than one question, and maybe something a little more challenging.

I just read what I wrote. I'm really a nerd.

ssshhhhhh...

The other chaplain interns tell me the office is now a library/quiet zone. They're still working on their final papers, reflections, and such. I have finished everything already. I have finished a week ahead of schedule. I have finished just the way I like to. Done with on-calls, reflections, verbatims, et al. I can glide through the last week. So read this very quietly so you don't interrupt them as they hurredly try to finish up everything. I will try not to sip my latte to loudly.

ta.

August 22nd

I finally got an appointment with the Dio of PA! It took a month, but I got it. I fly out on a 6:30am red eye to Philadelphia. They'll pick me up at the airport. I'm scheduled to meet with the canon for deployment. Hopefully I'll get to talk with the Bishop while I'm there, too. Then I catch a 5pm flight back to Chicago. Home in time to move in to the new digs.

I haven't got a thing to wear!

Ev'ton farmer's market

One of the things that brings me the most joy about living in Ev'ton is the Saturday farmer's market. At about 6am trucks come from places arounf IL as well as MI,MN, &WI, bringing a dazzeling variety of fruits, vegies and wild flowers. Roz and I just got back from our weekly pilgrimage. We didn't buy anything today, but only because we're broke. It's such a feast for the senses. The wild flowers' smell follows you long after you've past the tent. They also sell herbs. Roz and I rub the leaves for the smell; I with my fingers and she with her nose. But she does that with everything. When we do make purchases we have a celebratory dinner-making in the early evening. Just love it there.

Roz got a nice treat from one of the vendors. We make a point to stop by his tent to say hello when we visit. We've been trying to train Roz to shake on command. I don't know why this is so difficult. She didn't want the treat right there so we took it home. I used it as a reward for shaking on command. Maybe that'll work.

I got a treat at the market, too. I met a woman from our church that I hadn't met before. I think she said her name was Margaret. Lovely person. She had quite a lot to talk about for a first meeting. I just love meeting new people. I love it even more when I can remember their names.

So now it's back to packing for our move to on-campus housing. The farmer's market was my play time for the day.

learning languages

One of the challenges of hospital chaplaincy is the diversity of religions. Christians are the predominant demographic, followed by "no affiliation", and in a distant third, Jews. Occasionally I meet Muslims, Hindus, and once I met a practioner of Yoga. Most all agree in a monotheist theology: "It's all the same God after all, he just goes by different names," is a phrase I hear often. This is all well and good, but when it comes down to the actual praying, there are clear differences -- especially amongst the flavours of Christianity.

I've made it my project (I have a few that I'm working on, but I'll stick to just this one for now,) to gain a degree of fluency in the linguistics and styles of as many traditions as I can. For instance, Roman Catholics generally like the Lord's Prayer, Hail Mary, and other such prayers they learned by rote as children. Baptists appreciate a more extemporaneous style, with some energy behind it. Psalms work well for Jews. Prayers incorporating big themes like nature, and aren't too specific in naming God, appeal to Unitarians. It is acceptable and proper to read from the first chapter of the Quran to Muslims -- even for a woman chaplain from a different faith tradition. I frequently tap our resident Rabbi, Imam, Unitarian Minister, and of course our library of prayer books from different traditions for direction and critique. Learning people's faith language: how they pray, what words they use and how they use them, make for a more meaningful and effective experience for all. Unitarians, after all, just don't have much use for the Hail Mary.

One of the issues that I brought up last week was in regards to the "no affiliation" group. I visited one a few weeks ago and she asked about scrying. I found out it's got something to do with divination, something like looking into a crystal ball. I had stumbled across a Pagan. It got me thinking about this demographic. I wonder if some of the "no affiliation" people who look distrustfully at me when I introduce myself, pray in this style. And I wonder if they worry that I'll attack them for it. It is my belief, and the philosophy of the hospital, that healing includes mind/body and spirit, in whatever way that may express itself. I asked my supervisor for advice on how I should address this. He had no answer. So I contacted an old friend and former coworker who has been a Wiccan High Priest for nigh on twenty years. I asked him what they do for pastoral care for their members in hospitals. He couldn't give me an answer either but said he'd do some research and get back to me.

This will make for a nice addition to my project. No one has ever addressed this situation in our department, which is strange considering the numbers of "no affiliation" we get. At any rate it puts me in a very cool position with my supervisor and the senior staff. This is a teaching and research hospital after all. I'm thinking of creating a document that includes all my research. I don't know if I'll have time to finalize it in the next few weeks, but I might be able to rough in an outline. If I ever do a residency in CPE it may come in handy.

I've gotten pretty good at speaking the languages of different faith traditions. Many of my patients have commented kindly on the prayers that I've offered up with and for them. Admittedly I'm a research junkie and this kind of project really satisfies that need to learn more. I don't know if I'll ever use it in a parish setting or if it's use is limited to chaplaining, but it's been fun. Sadly, there's only a few more weeks for me to pick the brains of the staff here. Inevitably, some of my other projects will go unexplored. They'll go on the mental shelf with the other diamonds in the rough. Maybe there'll be time to get to them later.

sing a new song

I have been invited to go to a Jumah Prayer on the 19th. A Jumah is a daily prayer service that is sung. It's in the Muslim tradition. We have an Imam on staff here and he asked me if I would be his special guest. He was given a presidential recognition for his community work last month and we talked at length about it. He's a very interesting man. We hit it off then and now stop and chat whenever and wherever we meet. When he sees me he says in a loud voice, "Who's my buddy?" and I reply just as loud, "Who's my pal?" Honestly, I don't know where this came from, but I go with it. So anyways this invitation doesn't go around to everyone. I mentioned it to a few colleagues and they seemed a little jealous. I don't know what happens at a Muslim service but I've got a few weeks to read up so I don't look like an idiot. Really, I'm honored to be invited. I'll let you know what happens. The service ia at 11 and lasts about an hour I think. There are some very nice restaurants in the neighborhood. Maybe my Pal will take me out for lunch afterwards. ;-)