The Caring Catalyst

Who Cares - What Matters

A PREEMPTIVE GOODBYE

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After nearly 32 years it is way past an occupational hazard to think about death/dying and grief as hospice chaplain; as an empath, a human with a Caring Catalyst heart.         .        .

After witnessing many last moments and heartfelt spoken words of goodbye at the bedside, it’s made me think of a few words I would like to think I would be sharing with my family, with Erin, spoken or that silent-never-spoken-ouit-loud-words-but-heard-more-intimately-than-any-words-could-express.      .     .maybe I am over romanticizing it, it could never happen with the suddenness of a heart attack, car accident or countless other possible medical emergencies but, if there were such moments, I would like to think many of those words and thoughts might be warmly with a laser bean focus wouldn’t miss their mark with the words like Andrea Gibson shared in her poem, LOVE LETTER FROM FROM THE AFTER LIFE.     .     .  She died this past July but proves that words, yes, mere words, more than keep her alive and living.     .     .

So, what about you, would these words you’re about to read be some of the kind of words you’d like to share or.       .        .hear?

Love Letter from the Afterlife, by Andrea Gibson

My love, I was so wrong. Dying is the opposite of leaving. When I left my body, I did not go away. That portal of light was not a portal to elsewhere, but a portal to here. I am more here than I ever was before. I am more with you than I ever could have imagined. So close you look past me when wondering where I am. It’s Ok. I know that to be human is to be farsighted. But feel me now, walking the chambers of your heart, pressing my palms to the soft walls of your living. Why did no one tell us that to die is to be reincarnated in those we love while they are still alive? Ask me the altitude of heaven, and I will answer, “How tall are you?” In my back pocket is a love note with every word you wish you’d said. At night I sit ecstatic at the loom weaving forgiveness into our worldly regrets. All day I listen to the radio of your memories. Yes, I know every secret you thought too dark to tell me, and love you more for everything you feared might make me love you less. When you cry I guide your tears toward the garden of kisses I once planted on your cheek, so you know they are all perennials. Forgive me, for not being able to weep with you. One day you will understand. One day you will know why I read the poetry of your grief to those waiting to be born, and they are all the more excited. There is nothing I want for now that we are so close I open the curtain of your eyelids with my own smile every morning. I wish you could see the beauty your spirit is right now making of your pain, your deep seated fears playing musical chairs, laughing about how real they are not. My love, I want to sing it through the rafters of your bones, Dying is the opposite of leaving. I want to echo it through the corridor of your temples, I am more with you than I ever was before. Do you understand? It was me who beckoned the stranger who caught you in her arms when you forgot not to order for two at the coffee shop. It was me who was up all night gathering sunflowers into your chest the last day you feared you would never again wake up feeling lighthearted. I know it’s hard to believe, but I promise it’s the truth. I promise one day you will say it too – I can’t believe I ever thought I could lose you.

After watching her documentary on AppleTV, COME SEE ME IN THE GOOD LIGHT  https://share.google/BtN3yB4Zkpek5ws0a  I’ve been thinking; I’ve been wondering; I’ve been feeling: I’ve been
s h a r i n g

JUST A MOMENT: A PENNY NEVER SHORTCHANGES YOUR THOUGHTS

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A penny for your thoughts isn’t a phrase. We rarely use it much anymore. Is it because, let’s face it, our thoughts are worth a heck of a lot more than just a penny and even if we can formulate them just right.          .          . well, what’s a penny you even worth these days?

It used to be that A PENNY would buy a lot of candy that you’d happily carry around in a small brown sack.      .     .Remember Penny candy?

It doesn’t even exist anymore and if you save up and put together a lot of pennies, well, they don’t add up too much, do they?  Now, they spend even less; which means that ‘a penny for your thoughts,’ is worth a lot more than anything that can come from any bank account or any jingle from your pocket, especially if you can really verbalize those thoughts and even more, if they’re communicated in a way that they are actually heard and not just listen to in just a moment.            .           .

Now about those thoughts for a Penny
(From Heaven>YOU>All of Us.     .    .)

BEFORE SUNDAY

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Resurrections are no big things
That they are noticed, Is
How many nights
turn to morrows
How Lightlessnessess
turn into Cockcrows
sans roll away Stones
The Truest Resurrections
don’t require coming back
from the dead
but just a stale breath yawn
a Snap-Crack-Popping Stretch
chasing away Night’s inkinesses
and opening your eyes
Waking Up

Before we can ever get to an EASTER SUNDAY
we have to go through the not so GOOD FRIDAY
that we find ourselves living one of our
biggest flaws:
NOT NOTICING WHAT WE RECOGNIZE
and then.          .         .

 

JUST A MOMENT: CHRISTMAS ON EASTER

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MERRY CHRISTMAS
now the may be the
APRIL FOOLS
prank of all.      .       .
MAKE
B E L I E V I N G 
IT’S CHRISTMAS
when it’s not.     .     .
when it’s the exact opposite
or farthest thing away from
A N Y T H I N G
c h r i s t m a s 
B                    U                     T.          .          .


CHRISTMAS on EASTER?  
Absurd?
Blasphemy?
Unheard of?
Ludacris?
. . .right on time?

Christmas really never means anything, in fact, it probably doesn’t even exist unless Easter happens and gives it its own special definition. . .
S  O  M  E
would say that Christmas is how Some One came
and Easter shows why the Some One came.       .       .
and in just a moment,
adds colorful splashes of light
on our traffic laden dim
and darkened paths.        .       .

SO.       .        .CELEBRATE THE SEASON (S)

FASTEST MOST POWERFUL PRAYER

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The Serenity Prayer

God, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change
the courage to change the things I can
and the wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time,
enjoying one moment at a time.
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace.
Taking, as he did, the sinful world as it is,
not as I would have it.
Trusting that he will make all things right
if I surrender to His will;
that I may be reasonably happy in this life,
and supremely happy with Him forever.

—Reinhold Niebuhr, 1892-1971

Do you have a
GO TO PRAYER.          .          .
one that is the
FASTEST MOST POWERFUL PRAYER IN YOUR WORLD.           .           .            ?

Is it PROFOUNDLY Profane?
And the million dollar question:
DOES IT WORK?
DO YOU PRAY IT OFTEN
DO YOU SHARE IT
Is  it
E  F  F  E  C  T  I  V  E
 (SOMETIMES.   .   .THE MOST PROFOUNDLY PROFANE, IS .              .              .)

ARE YOU BUSTED
DISGUSTED 
AND NOT BE BE TRUSTED.              .             .             ?
Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
Maybe it’s time to
PROFOUNDLY
PRAY
PROFANELY.     .     .

EIGHT MINUTES

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YUPPERS.       .        .It was one of the best classes in college I ever took and to think it was a six week class during the Summer session where there was oodles of reading in a short amount of time including CRIME AND PUNISHMENT, THE IDIOT and the mammoth tome, THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOV by Fyodor Dostoevsky.

This all came flooding back when I read an article entitle THE EIGHT MINUTES, which if I was ever fully aware, I had forgotten the gruesome details.

In 1849, Fyodor Dostoevsky stood in a square in Saint Petersburg believing he was about to be executed. The sentence had been read. The rifles were prepared.

At the last moment, a message arrived: he would live.

That experience didn’t just scare him—it changed how he saw time, people, and responsibility. He later wrote that life is a gift and every minute matters. And he lived like he meant it.

This experience deeply shaped his worldview and writing, especially in works like:

And this is where the Caring Catalyst in me got poked and hopefully now, jabs you a little, too.

I was a little more motivated and reminded that a  Caring Catalyst is someone who turns awareness into action—someone who doesn’t just feel the value of life, but lives it in a way that positively affects others.

Dostoevsky’s second chance led him to three lasting shifts:

1. He treated time as precious.

Not something to delay or waste, but something to use with intention.

2. He saw people more deeply.

After years in prison, he stopped reducing people to labels and started recognizing the complexity in everyone—even those society had written off.

3. He acted with purpose.

He didn’t just feel grateful—he created meaningful work that explored suffering, morality, and compassion in ways that still resonate today.

Most of us won’t face a moment as extreme as his. But we don’t need to.

The truth is already here: time is limited, people are complex, and what we do with both matters.

Becoming a caring catalyst isn’t about dramatic transformation. It’s about small, consistent choices:

  • paying attention instead of rushing
  • choosing understanding over judgment
  • acting on what matters now, not later

We’re all given time—quietly, daily, without ceremony.

The question isn’t whether we get a second chance.

It’s whether we live like we already have one.          .          .

JUST A MOMENT: WHEN THE DUMPSTER IS MORE THAN A DUMP-STIRER

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Sometimes our lives feel more like DUMP STIR-ERS than dumpsters.           .

In just a moment, we realize that it’s not all of our discards.       .       .It’s not all our throwaways.        .       .It’s not all the  “I-don’t-need-you- anymore’s,” that we throw into the Dumpster of our lives; and without any fire needed, we realize that even when we throw away, there’s something that’s still remains.         .        .

Some say that’s the power of memory, some say that is more than haunting and some say, well.     .     .forget what Some say.     .     .

WHAT DO YOU SAY about the dumpster, the dump stir-ers of your life.          .          .

In less than just a moment, you will have known exactly why you’re getting this message today.

Pay attention to that.           .          .

Don’t throw it away.          .          .

It is not dumpster worthy

E N O U G H

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E     N     O     U     G     H

What a powerful word made even more powerful when crafted into a song by Sara Bareilles.       .       .you’ve heard the lyrics; experience them in another way by reading them:

(FROM THE TRANSCRIPT)
Enough what it even is I’ll never know it’s impossible to give you cuz
it’s so elusive but so intrusive and for you it’s everything
Enough, would you recognize it once it had
arrived or would something else shift as you step inside some subtle
discontent some pride for private new lament
reminding you to never touch the
stuff no not enough
I’ll tell you a sec I’ll tell you a secret, the truth there’s no
one here but you no higher power to blame,
no wizard with no name drawing the maps and changing the game so you will
never win you’re chasing a ghost,
my girl, I’m so tired of helping
Enough,  God I wish that you could see it from my side
how it’s everywhere, it’s always been, it’s right beside your critic’s eye
and now it’s time that you decide
am I Enough.   .   .   ?

Isn’t that what we’re always asking.            .            .“AM I ENOUGH?”

ENOUGH not just for others.         .       .We’re talking about ourselves aren’t we?

I have long been a fan of Sara Bareilles. I love the songs that she sings. I love the way that she sings them, but more importantly when I listen to her voice, I hear with my with my soul.          .          .isn’t that maybe her best message to us?

Sara,  just like the rest of us, has demons that have chased, bothered, and haunted her and yet I’m asking you not to listen to her voice or even to read these words but to hear with your soul as the song and it’s message lingers way past the last note and the resounding applause.     .     .

Now, maybe if each of us can do that in our own ways, yeah.       .       . you know what I’m saying,

IT IS ENOUGH

Being a Caring Catalyst
doesn’t mean being
P e R f E c T
it just means
SHOWING UP
(ENOUGH in your own Caring Catalyst Way)

THE THING IS

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I’ve loved this poem for a long time. These days it speaks to me in an especially poignant way, as the heartbreak deepens across our country and around our world.

Many of us love life, of course, but some people seem to love their own lives and care little for the lives of others. They seem to want a world in which they and people with whom they feel at home have a chance to thrive, while others—especially the marginalized—must fight every day simply to survive.

As Caring Catalyst’s we dig deeper where the ground seems the hardest and most crustiest; especially the shovel appears at its dullest.  We dig and we dig deep and we dig endlessly.  And when one of us tires or feels the blisters, hands red and raw, we glove up and dig on.     .      .

Memo to Self: Go beyond your broken heart: learn from it and follow. Get in touch with your fierce love of life, everyone’s life, and if you find it smoldering, blow on the embers and rekindle it. Push back on the fearful who want to tamp life down, and work hard(er).     .     . you’ll always find yourself not as alone as it sometimes feels and abracadabra.      .     .you’ll experience in a deeper way than a shovel can ever unearth, a purpose worth living for.

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S         O

IN JUST A MOMENT: THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN FEELING LUCKY AND BEING BLESSED

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On the day after St Patrick’s Day when everyone in the World is Irish, you’re either happy or sad that you ‘celebrated’ the way you did.  But maybe the biggest question the day after St Patrick’s Day is are you feeling any more lucky than, literally, hours ago or, oh well, you know, the opposite of whatever you feel lucky is.              .             .

There is a huge difference between feeling lucky being lucky and being blessed and you can find out in just a moment, you really can. Listen, I don’t want to take away your lucky charm or steal your magic potions; I don’t certainly want to debunk anything that makes you feel like you can have a better day, but here’s the guarantee you want to be and feel lucky at the same time.

It’s this easy:  Be someone’s lucky charm for somebody; Be their blessing.  If you know that person, great.  If not, even better!  I mean, willy-nilly, pick a person–be a lucky charm, a magic potion, a special moment and in just a moment you will know the difference between being lucky and being blessed.          .          .

Guaranteed

SHAMROCK ME THAT, BATMAN

Professional Speaker, Author, Assurance Man