The Caring Catalyst

Who Cares - What Matters

NEEDING TO BE MORE OF AN ATHEIST

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Y                  E                 S
I’ve been ordained for 44 years and
Y                  E                 S
I do believe in God and all of the allusions referring to G. U. S.
G reat  U niversal  S pirit
and then I have this story come to me again
after being buried in the great
Somewhere
for
Sometime:

A rabbi was asked by one of his students “Why did God create atheists?” After a long pause, the rabbi finally responded with a soft but sincere voice. “God created atheists” he said, “to teach us the most important lesson of them all – the lesson of true compassion. You see, when an atheist performs an act of charity, visits someone who is sick, helps someone in need, and cares for the world, he is not doing so because of some religious teaching. He does not believe that God commanded him to perform this act. In fact, he does not believe in God at all, so his actions are based on his sense of morality. Look at the kindness he bestows on others simply because he feels it to be right. When someone reaches out to you for help. You should never say ‘I’ll pray that God will help you.’ Instead, for that moment, you should become an atheist – imagine there is no God who could help, and say ‘I will help you’.”
– Martin Buber

So as a hopefully kind Caring Catalyst, I have to ask, SHOULD I BE MORE OF AN ATHEIST?
SHOULD ANY OF US?
Can Anyone’s hands
ever be too
C              L              E              A              N

THAT CHRISTMAS MORNING FEELING

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Seriously what gives you that Christmas morning feeling?

Is it music is a family friends is it presence?

Is it all the food? Is it kind of anti-climatic by the time we get to THIS Christmas morning and all of the feelings have come along with it?

You know, there’s an answer to all of those questions.          .         .

Three simple letters
Y                O                U

What say
Y                  O                  U
May all of the Lights of this Day
be yours
to see
to be
to free
in you
for others
always for Others
so that all may know
That Christmas Morning Feeling

X-RAY of the SOUL

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And so there it is.            .
.
My poor left knee.          .          .

Most likely more than you wanted or needed to see, huh.          .          .

And yet it shows the painful truth that at nearly

6  3

I have arthritis

and I am bone on bone

because of all the years of running;

Hmmmmmm and here I thought I was actually taking care of myself.       .       .

It wasn’t the 8 marathons

so much the

T R A I N I N G

for the 8 marathons

AND ffter having a really rough time getting in and out of a car

climbing up and down stairs

getting out of a chair

or even walking comfortably

I finally

with the advice of my family doctor

went to see in orthopedic surgeon.      .     .

He confirmed what  my knees were screaming:

‘your knees maybe nearly 63 years of age but they look like a 95-year-old man’s.          .          .

O            U            C            H

~~Literally~~O U C H
.        .        . after talking and confirming the obvious

we talk different plans and maybe different interventions

The least invasive was

getting a Cortizone shot
(It was painless)

and even more so

before I actually got off the examination table

I was pain-free for the first time in 3+ years.           .          .

I           N           C           R           E           D           I           B           L           E
It  kind of got me to thinking though.       .       .

if I can take a shot for something like this

and alleviate this physical pain

that I have Night and day

and worsened under certain conditions.            .            .

Is there such a shot intervention for the pain in the

S      O      U      L.          .          .


I believe there is.          .          .

I believe you’ve experienced that

I believe without going to a physician

or counselor

you can have that even at this very second;

I believe it can last longer than three weeks

or three months or

possibly even six months at its best.          .          .

I believe it has no downside

no side effects

and the only bad reaction

is limited to how often I apply

or take the treatment/intervention/therapy.        .        .

It’s the most effective,
least evasive,
absolutely cheapest,

without a doubt the best guaranteed treatment available.          .          .

In fact it not only what makes a soul,

A  SOUL
But it’s also what

D     E     F     I     N     E     S          I     T :

C           O           M           P            A           S           S           I          O          N

If it were possible to take an x-ray of the soul

each and everyone

would contain this element of compassion
and the only obstacle would be  how we dispense it
and how often we do.         .        .

And this is where we believe the  L  I  E  S :

COMPASSION can only be dispensed very sparingly or else it will cease to be compassion

or very effective compassion.             .
.
THAT
Every once in a while compassion is all that’s needed

not each time or one time but every time.           .          .

The shot of compassion normally does another soul good

but
E          S          P          E          C          I          A          L          L          Y

THE  O N E   S O U L

which dispenses it even better with greater effects.           .          .

THIS  COMPASSION

(GIVEN)

absolutely has no limit;

no shelf life

no expiration date

W             H             E             N

GIVEN and RECEIVED

f             r             e             e             l             y

not just magical

but miraculous things

take place to both the Giver and the Receiver

The   B A D     N E W S :

T               H               A               T

Will never show up on an x-ray
or an MRI
or a blood test;

there will never really be a device
a mechanism
and instrument

that’ll ever be able to measure
I  T
but there won’t be a device
and instrument
a mechanism
that will ever be able to deny it.           .          .

Some of this out giving

Of   C O M P A S S I O N

from your soul to another soul

may not be able to be completely measured;

B          U          T

it will be absolutely

unequivocally

undeniably

not just received

but wonderfully

E           X           P           E           R           I           E           N           C           E          D

Uhhhhhhhh, Yeah.          .          .

I don’t want to shot of that

(I  WANT  AN  OVER  DOSE)

Pssssssssssssssbsssst,  R E M E M B E R:

Pay Attention, Class:

Spirit H e a r i n g

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Unknown

She heard me speak.

It was to a large group of Activities Directors

and she wanted to hear more after the last word.         .         .

She saw me in the parking lot after the presentation but didn’t,

well, she was afraid,

not so much of what she was going to say,

but what I was going to hear.          .          .

She called me through an office to another office

who contacted another office

to leave me a message to contact her.        .        .

I didn’t remember her;

and even now,

several years later I don’t remember her name

or recall in detail her face;

They gave me her name and number,

but I had never met her to remember her;

“Could    we    meet?”

She wanted to know if we could meet

at an area nursing home where I would be visiting patients

and, as it turns out,

her Partner of nearly 30 years had died.       .       .

We   set   a   time.          .          .

A Friday around 11:00 a.m;

She recognized me coming down the hall;

I      only         saw         a         woman,

mostly in a shadow

with the sun at her back from a smudged window;

We found a small lounge area

and she began to tell a story

that didn’t so much need telling,

but most absolutely

H             E           A             R             D  

I        l   i   s   t   e   n   e   d.          .          .

L i s t e n e d  

with   my   eyes;

she looked tired,

weary with tears

that begged to streak down her face;

L i s t e n e d    

 with      my      nose;

she    sprayed    on    a    lot    of    perfume;

L i s t e n e d  

 with      my      mouth;

I sipped from a cup of coffee

that she had poured for me from the lobby;

L i s t e n e d    

 with      my      hands;

I handed her a tissue

and felt the roughness of her hands,

her fingers

when they touched mine;

     L i s t e n e d  

 with      my      heart;

words    that    a    mouth    couldn’t    share;

     L i s t e n e d  

 with      my      ears;

but   heard   more   listening   in   the   other   ways;

     l         i         s         t         e         n         e         d.         .         .   

She    s o b b e d

that she had been conceived from a rape;

Cried that she was given up for adoption;

Wept that she has been a victim her whole life

and that her Life Partner

left her when she needed her the most.           .           .

And then she asked me what

I had never been asked before.     .     .

As she wiped her face from tears

that were replaced just as fast

as they were wiped away:

“W  H  A  T       I  S       T  H  E       S  P  I  R  I  T        T  E  L  L  I  N  G      Y  O  U  

T  O        T   E   L   L        M   E ?”

I   didn’t   think.

I   didn’t   react.

I   didn’t   analyze.

I   didn’t   pause.

I   didn’t   reflect.

I   just   answered:

“The   person   I   see   right   here,   right   now   in   front   of   me   isn’t   the person   she   has   seen   all   of   her   life.   Look   at   the   person   I   see and   not   the   one   who   looks   back   from   the   mirror   asking,   ‘why  me?'”

When    we    L I S T E N    just    to    R E P L Y    we    never    really    h e a r!

What.       .       .

WHAT      STIRS      YOUR      DEEP      WATERS      OF      UNEASINESS

T             H             I             S

literally took place

several years ago

and yet feels just like yesterday

mostly because of the question

that she asked

that has echoed through me

and now asked by me

in situations

places

events

occurrences

with         i     n     d     i     v     i     d     u     a     l     s

I  Y E A R N  to know:

“W  H  A  T       I  S       T  H  E       S  P  I  R  I  T        T  E  L  L  I  N  G      Y  O  U  

T  O        T   E   L   L        M   E ?”

I asked it a week ago of Jenny and Steve

a couple who made it possible for us to vacation

A     N     D.          .          .

it wasn’t a tangible worded answer that they gave

so much as a powerful

W O R D L E S S

J     U     S     T               B     E     C     A     U     S     E

v a l i d a t i o n

It’s like looking into a mirror dimly

but being being SEEN

e x p l i c i t l y

Sometimes    what    we    hear,
a    Heart    can    only    shout
and    a    mouth    can    never    whisper.       .       .

Like a ripple that comes lapping up on YOUR SHORE

from an UN-SEEN Place.          .          .

but undeniably leaves you soaked.     .     .

Maybe the Language of the Heart

can only be heard by the Soul.        .        .

understood from the Being.            .            .  

 

.           .           .N O T      A L L      T H A T      H U M A N !

It RE-ADDRESSES

RE-FRESHES US.          .          .

It’s puts us succinctly

at the bottom of a winding staircase

that waits

b e g s

to take us to a higher place

if we don’t fear the

s

            t

                        e

                                    p

                                             s

D I S C O V E R

that we can grow

In the most unlikely of   p l a c e s

of   s p o t s

if we let go of

WHAT  WE  KNOW

.and grab on to

what  doesn’t  always  seemingly  exist.          .          .

It just might be the one way to concretely KNOW

what can never be ANSWERED

by the question:

“W  H  A  T         I  S         T  H  E         S  P  I  R  I  T          T  E  L  L  I  N  G        Y  O  U  

T  O          T   E   L   L          M   E  ?”

I’m sorry.           .           .

    did you say something?

Shhhhhhhhhhh.               .               .

the more silent you are,

t h e    

 L       O       U       D       E       R      

y      o      u             s     o     u     n     d

the better

Y   O   U        H   E   A   R

Hearing the SILENCE

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What exactly do you call

S             I           L             E             N             C             E

that    s   p   e   a   k   s.       .       .        ?

Some call it

C o n s c i e n c e

Some call it

I n t u i t i o n

Some call it

S i x t h   S e n s e

Some call it

E n e r g y

Some call it

S p i r i t

Some call it

S        i        l        e        n        c        e

I had just finished a funeral

it was a little 3:30 in the afternoon

and my first thought was to go and finish charting;

but then

I     T

happened.       .       .

As   I   pulled   out   of   the  funeral   home   parking   lot

and began going down the short road to home

I saw there was a lot of traffic

and at the one light

where I would have gone straight

I turned left and got on the road

that took me to

Ames Family Hospice House

one of our inpatient units.     .     .

When I walked in the front door

there she was.       .       .

I had only met her once.     .     .

y   e   s   t   e   r   d   a   y

and we had talked about

the decline of her father and

.       .       .and his funeral.        .        .

and now I walk in and actually see

her being picked off the floor by some staff

and her husband

after being told

“You’re  father died,”

after sitting vigil for him with days on end

and just leaving for a few moments

to pick up her children from school.      .     .

When she saw me, she looked in disbelief and said,

“There’s   the   guy   who’s   going   to   do   my   dad’s   funeral;  how   did   he   know   to   come?”

After I sat with the family for a while

and we made some preliminary funeral arrangements

and I was walking away from them

I heard a voice from a gentleman

who’s uncle I had a funeral service for

two weeks earlier.     .     .

“C      H      U      C     K !”

.      .     .and when I turned to see who was calling my name,

his wife asked,

“How   did   you   know   to   come   here.     .     .my   mother   just   died.”

H     O     W.        .       .

h o w     i n d e e d.       .       .

was  it

c o n s c i e n c e

i n t u i t i o n

s i x t h  s e n s e

e n e r g y

s p i r i t

s        i       l       e       n       c       e

The World takes us down so many, many

d i f f e r e n t   r o a d s

and one of the biggest secrets in the World

isn’t  that they are all in our hands

and not that they all lead

t o  a

p        l       a      c      e

b u t    t o     a

d        e        s        t      i       n       a        t       i        o        n

w h e r e

s            i            l            e            n            c            e

s  p  e  a  k  s

that can be heard

in crystal clear

precision

with no misunderstanding.        .        .

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

l i s t e n.        .       .

There’s a big difference

between listening to the

s    i    l    e   n   c   e

and actually

hearing

e x p e r i e n c i n g

it.     .     .

That’ll take you down roads that will have you and people asking,

“How  did  you  know  to  be  here?”

Professional Speaker, Author, Assurance Man