
Tag: Inspiration
When the Poems Do Not Arrive
When the poems do not arrive,
it is time to sit and quiet.
Rest is needed
so trust in Life can
bubble up for expression
and flow in a new way.
When the poems do not arrive
and the wings of inspiration
do not lift and lighten,
one must look within with honesty.
Where are the blocks?
When found, raise them up
and bless them.
Be grateful for the freedom they bring
when discovered and set aside.
When the poems do not arrive,
grieve a little and
then let go.
For there is no one to blame.
This is not about you.
There is only understanding
waiting for the dawn.
It always comes.
When the poems do not arrive,
be patient.
For when Presence returns,
so will the words that illuminate it.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

A Pastoral Care Glimpse
Yesterday, we had a new patient who I could not get to see easily as I was already scheduled to see patients in a whole different part of our large geographic territory. She was the matriarch of a very large Cape Verdian family and was 99 years old. The family had requested Sacrament of the Sick (SOS) for the patient as they were devout Catholics – and so was the patient. I called her daughter who was the Health Care Proxy and offered to set up (SOS) and visit today, the next day, and in the morning to provide presence and comfort. The daughter was grateful for my assistance and had agreed to the plan.
I arrived today after my morning meeting at ten to find several crying family members leaving the floor. I went to the the RN and stated, “She died, didn’t she.” She affirmed my conclusion. “Did the priest come?” “No.” I was so disappointed and surprised as this particular priest is very reliable. I went to the patient’s room to find many more family members still present – probably 15 to 20. I found my way to her daughter and introduced myself. She graciously brought me to the deceased patient in the hospital bed. She began telling stories about what a great mom her mother was – a matriarch of the family who never had conflicts with anyone. “In all her life, I only remember an issue she had with one person. She was a saint.”
Meanwhile, family members continued to cry and honor their lost matriarch. The family presence was intergenerational. I was impressed by the presence of many young people, along with the elders. I affirmed the family for their great presence with the patient and let them know that what they just accomplished was hard work….but that they had done a good job sending her on her way. They had been present for her. I said to the daughter, “what can I do to be spiritually supportive?” “Pray,” she said. “Just pray.” So, I placed my hand on her mother’s forehead, bowed my head, and gave thanks for her life and love. I prayed for her comfort and peace. I asked God to hold her in his Everlasting Arms and bring her home. I asked for comfort to the loving and grieving family.
The daughter expressed gratitude and continued to tell stories of her mother. Family had gathered more when I was praying. Funeral plans began to be discussed. It was clear this was a very spiritual family. I was feeling badly that no priest had come to bless this beautiful soul. So I offered a blessing. “I have water blessed by a priest in Ireland with me. I can give your mom a blessing, if that would be helpful.” The family was pleased about this idea. “Yes,” was the answer. More gathered around the bedside and I invited the family to participate. I asked them to place their hands somewhere on the their loved one’s body. I instructed them that together, we would recite the Lord’s Prayer. After that, I would make several blessing statements. After each statement, I invited them to affirm with “Amen.” I then stated I would close with a blessing with the holy water placed on the loved one’s forehead and give the her a benediction to send her home. Then we all did just that.
The family continued to cry but they were at peace. I let them know about our bereavement services and asked if there was anything else I could do for them. They stated all was well and expressed appreciation for this pastoral support. I left. Shortly after I left, the family felt free to disband, more at peace with having honored the death of their loved one. This is what my pastoral care looks like. It is part triage, part loving presence with a big dose of humility and love. To include divinity and presence in the process of saying goodbye at end of life is the highest honor and privilege. I am so blessed to have this as my life’s work. There is nothing better than being there for others when it matters the most and to be able to elevate God’s presence and make it visible. Blessed be.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, April, 2019

Big Love
When one of us is lost,
all that is needed is the touch of another
whether to tender skin or the wounded heart.
For none of us are perfectly on track
all the time, are we?
So we help one another to steer and soften.
When one of us is sick,
it is time for a cup of Big Love –
we fill it with grace mixed with empathy
so the sickness cannot take root,
causing the soul to wither,
in a feeling of aloneness.
If disconnection broadens,
it is time to seek your teacher –
that wiser one who loves as God loves,
without measure, and
while nurturing the current lesson to birth.
A good teacher mirrors your imminent Spring
as you struggle to blossom
and see.
This is what Big Love looks like –
its embrace feels like freedom on the wing.
Its presence is grace realized
as sibling souls open and
reach out to you,
sparking Truth and Light
so you can be healed.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019
Photo credit to Gary Stanton, my husband, who also gave me the mug recently when I was sick – the inspiration for this poem. Thank you, Honey! xoxo

When Life is Hard
When life is hard,
and each day a challenge,
look for the soft places
beneath and below.
Uncover what is there
and be comforted.
When each day is an effort,
relax your muscles
and decide on purpose
to seek what frees.
Do more of that.
When the weight on your shoulders
is slowing you down,
go slow.
It is okay to rest.
Share your load and
ask for help.
Listen to the whispers of God –
for you are being directed to learn
something important.
Perhaps this is the time you finally understand that
joy can be found
in the pain
when you change your thinking.
Everyone gets lessons along the way…
Now is your time
to blossom in winter.
So, take comfort in the crocus
which perseveres through
hard frozen ground
to rise and shine,
transcending into Spring.
For you are the crocus.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

A Breath That is Free
If our moments are forgotten,
did we really live them?
If our thoughts are in charge,
are we present at all?
If our breath is held,
is it really a breath?
I pause with these questions
and my ears open to the hum of my home,
and the song of the birds outside.
My vision is sparked by
the morning light filtering through the trees.
The glow is beautiful.
I notice that as I write,
my posture is hunched,
and I am tight in all the usual places.
I release the usual.
Relaxing and deepening awareness
of my breath,
and my gratitude for it all,
I begin again.
I am present and I live this moment.
Grace and peace find me
in the movement of my breath.
I am ready for the gift of another day.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

Shift!

Snow on Trees
Don’t despair the soul season
when all the green is gone
and you feel darkened
and bare.
These are the times when
you stand alone, while
everyone looks past you
to escape to the horizon beyond.
You feel planted in place
with nowhere to grow, and
the present brittleness
makes you snap easily.
Though unpleasant and cold –
while in this raw nakedness,
please be reminded that
you are in a good position.
You are in the right place –
the proper season.
You are ripe for grace.
A season of cold and dark
is a gift like no other.
For when the white glow arrives,
softly blanketing and
offering beauty and peace –
healing is gifted.
You are born again with the
verdant seeds needed
to bloom again
and commune with others.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

Enough Already
Don’t worry about the direction
ahead, or the matters of the day.
Simply place your hand
on your own heart
and feel the love there – love
that was given long ago
that you may have forgotten.
Don’t be the person who
allows busyness to run
over your life, squashing it
with good intentions, and
all that learned stupidness which
pulls us away from
this preciousness given.
Remember those moments
when God has broken through –
those glimpses when you
knew beyond a doubt that
you are made of the same stuff
as the flowers and trees, and
forever is possible – that
Love is You, and
You are Love.
Let yourself glow, please.
For those who do, are
born in true freedom.
For in stepping aside from
the pettiness of all our
misdirected ways, we can
float like a feather
on the breath of God.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

Nurture
You are but a drooping plant
with a bowed-browned bloom.
Your light is not reflecting –
the shadows grow.
Grief visible like this
is more easily watered.
It calls out for nurturance.
When hidden,
it festers
and roots into every pore,
making us sick –
stealing the colors.
This is the usual way…
for we are all good at facades
and hiding.
We smile brightly,
despite the pained cracks within.
Where does it hurt, my friend?
Show me the place
and tell me the story.
Dig out the pain from
your hardened crusts – fashionably covered.
Lift your voice and let the cry be born.
Let me know what is needed.
Take the covers off
and allow the hurt to move you
to a new place of freedom.
All is well, and
I am here with you.
You belong.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019
