Caregiving with Prayer

Yesterday was the 2nd monthly Saturday of chaplaincy training with the Zen Center for Contemplative Care. A lot of the day was spent discussing the power of prayer and its place in chaplaincy work. The three teachers (Koshin, Chodo and Trudi Jinpu) had us talk about our concepts of God, since most in the group don't necessarily believe in the Christian version of God, and many are atheists.

The day helped me realize that we have to put the patient's needs and belief system before our own and not get into some self-indulgent philosophizing about our own sense of God or the lack thereof. I have no problem reciting the Lord's Prayer or a Hail Mary if that is what someone can best relate to (12 years of Catholic School has left those prayers permanently imprinted in my head).

A few of my classmates expressed some concern about how to devise a prayer (especially one that reflects a person's anger) and this is how I see it: just imagine a situation where friend A needs to express something to friend B but A has elected you to be the messenger.

Just being with the patient and either addressing the "Lord" if that's appropriate for them, or making a general intention or statement of understanding about their pain can offer a lot of relief. (May you be free from pain and the root of pain...May you be free from suffering and the root of suffering...May you be happy...")

Ending the prayer with some sort of reasonable request (again, just let the patient be your guide) should do the trick. It doesn't have to be poetic or rhymey, just authentic. Everyday language will do just fine.

If you listen enough you can tell what is foremost on someone's mind and what aspect of their life could use a little healing. It's the job of a Chaplain to put that into words and offer some degree of hope to the patient.

12 Essential Rules to Live More Like a Zen Monk

I just found a very cool article--you can read the whole piece HERE

1. Do one thing at a time. This rule (and some of the others that follow) will be familiar to long-time Zen Habits readers. It’s part of my philosophy, and it’s also a part of the life of a Zen monk: single-task, don’t multi-task. When you’re pouring water, just pour water. When you’re eating, just eat. When you’re bathing, just bathe. Don’t try to knock off a few tasks while eating or bathing. Zen proverb: “When walking, walk. When eating, eat.”

2. Do it slowly and deliberately. You can do one task at a time, but also rush that task. Instead, take your time, and move slowly. Make your actions deliberate, not rushed and random. It takes practice, but it helps you focus on the task.

3. Do it completely. Put your mind completely on the task. Don’t move on to the next task until you’re finished. If, for some reason, you have no choice but to move on to something else, try to at least put away the unfinished task and clean up after yourself. If you prepare a sandwich, don’t start eating it until you’ve put away the stuff you used to prepare it, wiped down the counter, and washed the dishes used for preparation. Then you’re done with that task, and can focus more completely on the next task.

4. Do less. A Zen monk doesn’t lead a lazy life: he wakes early and has a day filled with work. However, he doesn’t have an unending task list either — there are certain things he’s going to do today, an no more. If you do less, you can do those things more slowly, more completely and with more concentration. If you fill your day with tasks, you will be rushing from one thing to the next without stopping to think about what you do.

CONTINUED HERE >>>

The Wave and the Ocean

The Heart of Understanding is a short book by Thich Nhat Hahn that offers a simple and insightful commentary on the Heart Sutra.

One of the most confusing parts of the dharma (at least for me) is the paradox of "form is emptiness; emptiness is form".

”Form is emptiness, emptiness is form”.

Thich Nhat Hanh explains form and emptiness this way:…Form is the wave and emptiness is the water…So “form is emptiness, emptiness is form” is like wave is water, water is wave…”

By emptiness we mean that all things are empty of an inherent existence.

To understand this better, consider a glass bowl. We refer to it as empty if there is no food or liquid inside of it. But there is always something inside of it--like air and light for example. So from a physical perspective the bowl is always full of something or other.

But from the Buddhist point of view, the bowl lacks an inherent existence. That doesn't mean that the bowl does not exist, but that its existence as a bowl is dependent upon many other factors and a highly specific set of conditions. Its characteristics don't make it what it is-the glass, the round shape, and the diameter are all qualities of it but no single one of them makes the bowl a bowl. A half of a coconut can serve the same function as a bowl but it is still called a coconut. Other things made of glass are not bowls, they can be many other things like drinking glasses or cups.

Viewing it this way, there is nothing about our bowl in question that is intrinsic to that bowl or any other bowl. The glass material doesn't make it a bowl, nor does its roundness. Its existence depends on several things, because it is interdependent with everything else. In order to be a bowl, it must possess a number of simultaneously existing qualities and conditions. If one of these conditions is tampered with or no longer exists (i.e. it breaks into fifty pieces) then our bowl is not necessarily a bowl anymore since a major aspect of the conditions that contribute to its "bowlness" is no longer in place.

This tells us that the bowl's very existence is completely dependent upon outer circumstances.

Bowls, and everything else in the universe, are empty.