Service

Service is considered the third line of work In J. G. Bennett’s Seven Lines of Work.

If I’m growing a “master” in myself to use my body as a tool for service, who am I serving? And in what way is it service?

An opportunity presented itself last week to be with someone who is dying. I’m still processing it. I am a volunteer at the Center for Conscious Living and Dying (CCLD). Even though I have not finished my direct care training, I was able to shadow two care givers during their turn of care.

Can I Do This?

The night before I was to go, I found myself tossing and turning, having dreams full of self-doubt. How present would I be to the needs of the situation? Could I be there without interfering or saying the wrong thing? Would I emit the kind of energy called for?

How does one serve someone who is dying?

And then it all unfolded. I woke up before the alarm went off, feeling ready. I felt sure of myself and resonant with the early morning hour and new beginnings.

When I arrived, the exchange between outgoing and incoming caregivers, which included sharing how we each felt, helped me connect with everyone. The resident we were there for was still asleep with a family member in the room. I had time to orient and be shown around. The atmosphere was quiet and peaceful.

Later, our resident came out of their bedroom and surprised us with a huge smile and arms outstretched for a group hug. While the caregivers prepared some medicine, I sat with this open and wonderful person who communicated with me in writing. We shared our being together.

About mid-morning, while the resident rested, the family member came out to the table. They expressed the intention of visiting the ceremonial fire outside. They had a question for the fire keeper. I was given permission to go along, and we stayed by the fire for almost an hour. The time spent and shared together felt restorative. Peace and love permeated the grounds.

Giving and Receiving

What I found in this morning’s experience, has been a profound understanding that true service is a two-way street. True giving begets the gift of receiving. There was so much heart infusing the family I was there to serve that it reflected its light back on me. I left my turn of service brimming with feeling enriched and blessed.

Not yet ready to leave, I went out to the swing hanging from the old Oak behind the main house. I climbed onto the wooden seat and swung, pumping my legs, tilting back to gaze up at the blue spring sky and mountains beyond. Warmed by the privilege of service, I found myself crying, knowing the tears were watering my growing heart.