We invite you to join us for online every first Thursday of the month morning Mindful Caregiving sangha.
Mindful Caregiving
These mindful caregiving sessions are open to all who identify as caregivers. The topics and discussions of this group will be rooted in mindfulness practice and will aim to support those in a parental role, caretaking for an elder, or experiencing another type of caregiving situation by creating a compassionate, reflective space to come together.
No prior experience with mindfulness is necessary—all are welcome. There are no restrictions to join. While there is no fee, we invite participants to offer dana (a practice of generosity) to help sustain the gathering.
Format: 7:00 am-7:25 am meditation period and 7:25-8:00 am dharma sharing.
For questions about the Mindful Caregivers group, please contact facilitator Jenny Medvene-Collins.
No previous mindfulness or meditation experience is necessary. No fees, donations are always welcome.
Monthly Topic:
Belonging To Our Lives
Reading:
The House of Belonging
By David Whyte
I awoke
this morning
in the gold light
turning this way
and that
thinking for
a moment
it was one
day
like any other.
But
the veil had gone
from my
darkened heart
and
I thought
it must have been the quiet
candlelight
that filled my room,
it must have been
the first
easy rhythm
with which I breathed
myself to sleep,
it must have been
the prayer I said
speaking to the otherness
of the night.
And
I thought
this is the good day
you could
meet your love,
this is the black day
someone close
to you could die.
This is the day
you realise
how easily the thread
is broken
between this world
and the next
and I found myself
sitting up
in the quiet pathway
of light,
the tawny
close grained cedar
burning round
me like fire
and all the angels of this housely
heaven ascending
through the first
roof of light
the sun has made.
This is the bright home
in which I live,
this is where
I ask
my friends
to come,
this is where I want
to love all the things
it has taken me so long
to learn to love.
This is the temple
of my adult aloneness
and I belong
to that aloneness
as I belong to my life.
There is no house
like the house of belonging.
Jenny Shares:
I am always captivated by the words of poet David Whyte, and this particular poem feels relatable on many fronts. Knowing how to truly belong to our own lives, and practicing how to do so, feels at the core of all that we do. To me, part of this beautiful poem is about how each day can hold absolutely anything: the marvelous joys, the darkness of grief, or even simply the (sometimes startling) consideration of how thin the line can be between worlds. The theme of acceptance makes me think of our lives as caregivers. We are asked to live with radical acceptance of all that is happening inside of us. We strive to fully belong to our own lives, enough that we can face whatever may come. This summer, someone very dear to me gradually slipped from this world into the next journey. Observing this kind of transformation, as many of us have experienced, calls for openness and presence in order to welcome the unknowns of each day.
I sometimes feel an unspoken pressure for full presence when caregiving; a voice inside my head tells me how important it is to be laser focused on the moment or how meaningful it will be to remember every detail of an experience. While I believe presence to be one of the greatest gifts we can offer another being, it can be helpful to consider how to give ourselves grace when our presence feels difficult or draining. This summer, some of my caregiving presence has felt deeply authentic and some moments have felt more fueled by a sense of fear. I’ve realized that the fear is really a worry of regret, of missed chances. There can be a palpable weight to moments we think have the potential to be really important —whether they are celebratory, end-of-life, or otherwise meaningful to us. I love the feeling of being present: the physical sensation, the sense of space in my mind, and the awareness that I’m able to give this gift to someone else. My pride in being able to offer such presence can make it difficult to accept that sometimes it is fueled by anxiety or fear. When these emotions arise, I try to hold compassion for where they’re coming from rather than pushing them away.
Belonging to our lives fully means owning the reality of how we are showing up each day, the gentle ones filled with ease and the ones where the unknown feels difficult to sit with.
I look forward to hearing how other caregivers experienced this poem, how it may or may not connect to your experiences as a caregiver lately, or anything else on your minds and hearts this month.