Drinking from a firehose

Posted on 06/06/2015 by Mary Keenan

Lots of people told me the first week of CPE* was like drinking from a firehose – and they were right. That metaphor might even be an understatement. This first week has aimed a torrent of information and anxiety into my brain. The first sip was hospital orientation – compliance, safety, security, required webinars, and, because it is a hospital system, proper hand washing. Next, a gulp of the themes specific to chaplaincy – family systems, theological reflection, cultural humility, pastoral identity, authority…And then I was doused with the necessary tasks related to records and forms, user names and passwords, policies and procedures.

The topic that feels most like it’ll drown me is death and dying – which will be a major theme for my summer. I knew this was part of the experience, but it still holds a great deal of mystery and anxiety for me. Being with people at the moment or shortly after a death is not an experience I have ever had. In addition to the charged emotion of it, there is the whole “business” of dying that we add in the modern era – gathering information and filling out forms.

If facing death raises anxiety for me, the thought of lost sleep during overnight on-call brings a deluge of terror! As an Olympic level sleeper and napper, I worry about the 2 a.m. page – but it will come – along with pages at all other hours of the day and night. This is why we are there, to respond to needs as they arise, not on a schedule.

To survive the flood of anxiety and newness, I have some tools, some life rafts to grab onto. I have a great group of colleagues – some are newbies like me and others are experienced. Throughout the summer, we’ll be reflecting and praying together about what we are learning and how to do it better. (Also, I wouldn’t make it through at all without comfortable shoes. And sweaters with pockets.) And while the prospect of the next ten weeks is daunting, it is only ten weeks – at the end, I’ll move on to another phase of my formation. But with a priceless experience. What feels like drinking from a firehose today will, by summer’s end, have given me just a taste of the life ahead of me.

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*CPE, for the uninitiated, stands for Clinical Pastoral Education, a hospital chaplaincy internship that is required for a lot of people on the path to ordained ministry. It is one of the best ways to learn how to provide pastoral care for people in their greatest times of crisis and vulnerability. And also to experience how that work does not fit your preferred time schedule.

Being a woman in Texas

Posted on 05/16/2015 by Mary Keenan

It has been a hard week for women and girls in Texas. As I told a friend, I love living here, but sometimes it is like being on the frontier of rational thought. My evidence:

1) In Austin, where the new city council now has a majority of women, the city manager hired a consultant to provide a two-hour training on how to work with women in government. Because apparently women are so incredibly different to work with – especially when they come in flocks – that it requires special training. The presenter got his insights from a conversation with his 11-year-old daughter. And he helpfully taught our city staffers that women are not that great at numbers and ask a lot of annoying questions. You can read more about it here.

Lesson: Women are like children and in order to work with them, you need special training and a lot of patience.

2) In Houston, they are making sure girls know their second-class status early – that way they won’t have to provide remedial training to their city government! The high school health curriculum for Houston Independent School District includes slut shaming. Think I am kidding, check it out for yourself. So, girls, if a guy is trying to pimp you out, there is clearly something wrong with you, not him. Because, even if we ask too many questions and have no idea how to deal with finances, we are responsible for all sexual thoughts and actions – our own and others.

Lesson: When boys are jerks, it is always the girl’s fault. We don’t have any power at all – except the complete and total responsibility for other people’s sexual thoughts, feelings, and actions.

3) Maybe at this point you are feeling relived you don’t live in Austin or Houston. Sorry, there is bad news at the state level, too. This week, the Texas House of Representatives passed a bill that makes it incredibly difficult for minors seeking abortion to get a judicial bypass – that is the procedure available for girls who feel they cannot safely get parental consent. There are no exceptions for rape or incest. The new rules also make judges in these cases targets for protest. And, just to make sure women know their place, all women seeking abortion must show a state-issued ID – or else they will be assumed to be minor children and have to get permission. That’s right, unless you have an ID, you are officially a child. I’ve worked with poor and homeless women –getting an ID is often a problem, even for grown-ups. Here, read more if you can stomach it.

Lesson: I am not even sure what the lesson is here.

So, women are children who are completely responsible for male sexuality, but even with all that power they are terrible at math and can’t be trusted to control their own bodies.

What. The. F@$k.

There will always be people in power who want to control women by limiting our choices or treating us like pets or babies. Fine. Diversity. Whatever. But when the year is 2015 and those people actually have political power…I can’t even.

At the same time as these political assaults on women’s “personhood” (because, let’s face it that is what it is) were happening there was an amazing outcry in another area of civil and human rights. A bill to prevent marriage equality – even if the Supreme Court allows it – was challenged by businesses across the state. Apparently, discriminating against people based on their sexual orientation is bad for business – as it should be.

What I want to know is when discriminating against women will be considered bad for business. Or just plain bad.

Texas has one of the highest teen pregnancy and teen birth rates in the country. We also lead the nation in the percentage of uninsured – and it probably didn’t help that our state government tried to make it more difficult for those folks to get coverage thru the Affordable Care Act. I have scoured the Internet and can find absolutely no evidence that this is good for Texans. Even and especially baby Texans and girl Texans and women Texans. The only people it seems to be good for are politicians.

Two years ago, there was a brief uprising in Texas. A sea of orange-clad women and men raised our voices to counter the push to close access to reproductive health care. It was exhilarating and discouraging at the same time. But it might be time to get out those marching shoes again. As a women, I am apparently not that good at math (at least according to a well-paid consultant) but I have a lot of questions and a strong, independent daughter to raise.

Who’s with me?

Prickly

Posted on 05/11/2015 by Mary Keenan

There are memories that seem impossible to touch without feeling a sting.
They warn me to stand clear…but then lure me in with beauty and longing.
That which produces the sharp spines also makes a lush flower and a sweet fruit.
They spring from the same root, are nourished from the same soil.
I’d rather have them both than have neither.

Doodlebug

Posted on 05/01/2015 by Mary Keenan

Doodlebugs, roly polies, pill bugs, armadillo bugs…

They have many names, but the doodlebug is known for one amazing trait: it can curl into a perfect sphere of protection when threatened. And by threatened, I mean any vibration or even the slightest touch. The doodlebugs that live in my front yard have a constant lifecycle of crawling-curling-crawling-curling as my daughter makes them houses and villages. At first, their reflex seems hypersensitive – come on! Do you have to close yourself off for every little stimulus during the day? But you know, they uncurl and crawl on within seconds. Doodlebugs protect themselves, but they never lose sight of the world outside their self-made safe place. That instinct to protect yourself and also remember the world outside yourself is a good balance. It is also a pretty good definition of hope.

Born into Radiance

Posted on 04/18/2015 by Mary Keenan

Did you know that the collective noun for cardinals is “radiance”? A radiance of cardinals. When they first hatch, cardinals are small, weak, blind, and needy – hardly bright or brilliant. They are a radiance because of whose they are; their shine comes from belonging. In about 10 days these red balls of fuzz grow to feathered fledglings, radiating into my garden, my trees, and far beyond – then back again. Always radiant, together.

Nothing will get a bird out of the nest faster than a giant watching with a camera.

Life with a Rock Star

Posted on 04/17/2015 by Mary Keenan

A team of comedy writers has taken over my life. This happened today:

My daughter had a screaming fit because she had nothing to wear. Nothing. No, not those!! They are regular clothes!!! She needed something stylish. Because she is in a band and they are singing today. She is 7. The band is performing at recess.

We finally settled on this:

Taylor Swift has nuthin’ on this girl’s style.

Portrait of the blogger as a tired mom

Posted on 04/06/2015 by Mary Keenan

Have slept little and napped less.
(But it was worth it.)

My deepest apologies to James Joyce. But those words were begging to be stolen.

Love Rocks

Posted on 03/31/2015 by Mary Keenan

Drop by drop and breath by breath, rocks in the hills where I live are worn from rough mountains to smooth stones you can hold in your hand. They’ve been sculpted by time and life from something that holds you up to a gift you can pick up and give to a friend.

Rain in the Desert

Posted on 03/25/2015 by Mary Keenan

The landscape in West Texas doesn’t hide much. During the day you can see just about everything between the bright blue sky and the hard brown earth for miles around. Plains give way to rolling hills, then steep mountains. Jagged volcanic rocks pierce soft grasslands. Trees grow where there is no soil. And you can certainly see how dry it is; this is the only place where I have seen rainfall evaporate before it reached the ground.

But today the rain touches the ground and, paradoxically, the mist that covers the hills reveals life in the rocks and grasses that the clear sunny days had hidden. Purple, yellow, and white flowers dot the roadsides and peek out from under the cacti and boulders. On a day like this, the rain is like a like a message from a long lost love, softening the parched earth as friendship softens the heart.

Soon, the dry weather will return. There will still be great beauty in the desert. Trees will still grow where there is no soil. Beneath the rocks and grasses, prairie verbena and star cloak fern wait; when their memory is stirred, they will bloom again. This earth is hard, but it is not barren.

So ready

Posted on 03/13/2015 by Mary Keenan

The laundry isn’t done and the younger kids won’t go to sleep and I can’t find that One Thing I really need and a prescription is about to run out and the house is filthy and the older kids don’t agree on who sleeps where and I have work to do and a sermon to write and my husband is exhausted and that’s how we know.

It is time to get the heck out of Dodge!

If it’s not here, it’s not going.