help, don’t hurt

Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can’t help them, don’t hurt them.

` Dalai Lama

I imagine that I always knew that I was born to serve others. My younger siblings, my mother…my own family, my grand babies, my community, my country, my world. From the time that I was a young girl, I was taught one serves with humility rather than for show. Great things done in service don’t need a parade to make an impact; nor do they need to be big and bold. It’s what is in one’s heart that should drive one in service, no matter where they are. And so I have done just that. I have served in ways that I know have made a difference…in my own family, my community, my country, my world.

Point and scream at the tragedy that is a children’s hospital in Aleppo being bombed and scream at me that my outrage and heartbreak isn’t enough and I will quietly ask what are you doing? What have you been doing? Tell me I should be there or somewhere else and I will ask you again. Are you going? Are you giving?

What are YOU doing to help others…in Aleppo, in your hometown, in every corner of the globe where help is needed?

Did you vote?

Do you give generously of your money, your talents, your goods, YOUR TIME?

Do you support, educate and encourage others to serve? Or do you stand on your soap box demanding others to do more because you imagine that what they are doing is not ever enough?

You don’t know what is inside my heart. You are not living inside my heart.

Tell me that I am am not doing enough, not doing it right, not in the right place or the right time and I will likely wonder about your privilege that allows you to presume so much. And then I will put my head down in determination and continue to serve…my family, my community, people of color, LGBT, immigrants, Christians, Jews, Muslims, Sikhs, Buddhists, atheists. I will offer my kindness and care to millionaires, homeless, prostitutes, thieves, Assistant District Attorneys, celebrities, politicians, media personalities. I will serve with love the battered, abused, addicted, marginalized and undocumented. I have literally devoted so many years to so many of these and more. My time, my energy, my heart, my lunch and scooby snacks, my ear, my hugs, my heart…and so much more.

Tell me again that I am not doing enough and I will pause thinking of the tiny one I held and comforted for hours last night, just as I have done for years and years with countless other babies – children of all of the above and so much more. I see that sweet baby, who has survived so much already in literally the days that she has been alive and I think of that which a baby on the other side of the world in Aleppo has managed to survive as well with her own nurse, not unlike me and I will cry; I will feel outrage because we are sisters and brothers at the same isolette or thousands of miles away from each other.

Not enough, you declare.

Fine.

Not enough.

But you can’t possibly know my heart, my service, my benevolence, my impact in this world, right here, right now. Rant and rage on your little soap box while I quietly put on my scrubs and head back and do what I do…plus a helluva lot more that is really not your business and no one else except for the god I pray to and people whose lives I do impact for good…

and I will give thanks, always.

Tell me, what are you doing in your community, in Aleppo, anywhere?

stronger joined together

It’s been a week now, and I am certain it’s going to be a LOOONNNGGG four years…with that administration that will take office January 20 and those who are probably already prepping for the 2020 election season.

UGH!

Anyone else struggling to think positively?

Already there has been too much ugly, too much anger, too much bitterness that divides…and I am not even talking about Trump supporters versus Hillary supporters. No. Family, friends, like-minded folk literally cannibalizing one another all because one is more right than the other…always.

It’s going to be so much more difficult I imagine before it gets easier. There is no getting around that truth. But we can, we should and we will get through to the other side…together.

We look different. We think, feel, dream, pray, love in so many different ways; but we are all humans together. Lovers, fighters, friends, family, black, brown, white, gay, straight, we are all together and so much stronger joined together.

Or we can focus on that which makes us different and separates us and could very well destroy us; because obviously there is only one right which is why family, friends, like-minded folk are fighting so damn hard against each other. 

Deep thoughts that came to me in the waning, but chaotic moments of the end of a long night at work. After lively o’dark thirty discussions about the election last week, and not just who our President elect is, because plastic bags are banned, recreational pot is legal, low level criminals will be freed and how about that death penalty and everyone on death row right now along with those god-damned safety pins. Sharp lines drawn, opinions expressed…but without name-calling or bridge burning because, just imagine, grown ups; and because we can and do indeed work together and work together very well, especially when we do what we do in my NICU.

We also put on some pretty kick-ass potlucks.

Diversity, tied together and making kick-ass potlucks together. Hurray for that! 

Diversity is about all of us, and about us having to figure out how to walk through this world together.

~ Jacqueline Woodson

 

baritones

It’s the middle of the day and I am supposed to be sleeping right now because I am working tonight. Obviously, I am not. But I am resting in bed with my laptop and a cup of very strong coffee. Going to need that and more to get me through the night for sure. I am also enjoying listening to the voices that carry through The Big Top.

Baritones, both of them, deep in conversation.

I love my baritones.

blame it on the moon

Let’s just blame all the eye-twitching bullshit, short tempers, name-calling and other annoyances on the moon because shining brighter than usual…and bigger than ever until November 25, 2034…it seems to be the biggest and most perfect target to fix blame for it all upon.

And if you love me, think some good thoughts because yes, the effect of a full moon on a night shift nurse’s life is always an adventure; such an adventure in that we often look at the lunar calendar and exclaim, Oh crap, it’s a full moon tonight! God only knows just what that adventure will be tonight.

Take a little time tonight, away from all the noise and distractions that have been hurting our hearts and heads, and just enjoy the Super Beaver Moon.

and even though I know how very far apart we are it helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star ~ James Ingram

 

nurses of Instagram, and me

So, this happened yesterday.

Yeah, that’s me

Nurses of Instagram posted:

This week’s amazing #WomanNursrWednesday goes to the beauty @nicurnmama who has been a nurse for over 26 years from Cali!

Wait…beauty?????

I am honored and I have loved the comments and attention; but beauty????

No, I am not fishing for compliments.

I swear.

The thing is I almost never see it. There has been a lot of self doubt and unwelcome events in my life. Self doubt cultivated and nurtured in an environment that declared there was nothing pleasing to the senses about me, the child, the teen, the very awkward young woman.

Lies. All of it lies. As a mature woman I realize that. I accept that.

As a mature woman I also am acutely aware that a mature….middle aged…woman doesn’t hear such adjectives thrown in her general direction very often. Lines on the face…that crepe-y thing happening on the décolletage in spite of ALL THE SUNSCREEN AND MOISTURIZERS, those freckles or age spots along with the swollen, aching joints on my hands that now look more like my grandmother’s hands than my own make me acutely cognizant of the reality that I am not as young as I used to be. I’m not even going to mention the lumpy, bumpy post menopausal body because it is what it is.

Beauty????

I’m sorry, I don’t see it.

But I will accept. it. I will blush fiercely, almost as red in the face as the ginger in my hair (thanks to my darling, talented daughter, Hollie); and I will say thank you.