The Unclad Soul

I have been fascinated with medicine since I was a boy. Somewhere along the path of middle school, I thought I might be a doctor. As a kid, I got a toy doctor’s kit one Christmas and everyone in the family was targets of my doctoring. Though, as I remember it, I think my brother Terry was the only one who actually tolerated being one of my patients. Later, in high school, I figured I wasn’t smart enough to be a doctor after all. I wasn’t any good at math or science. But as long as I can remember I wanted to help people. My grandparents were a big part of our family life. And they were a huge influence on how I saw the world. Loving, gentle, caring, I learned from them a deep compassion for others. And as they got older, I felt such tenderness for them and the increasing limits of their bodies and minds. I eventually decided to go into the ministry. And there is certainly an aspect of healing in that if one takes it seriously and is dedicated to it. I enjoyed the compassionate...

I visited with my brother Jim yesterday and, as always when I see him, I left deeply reflecting on life. “The world,” Helen Keller once said, “is full of suffering; but also, the overcoming of it.” It is difficult to watch the news and see the horror in the Middle East. There is so much suffering and death there. And yet, people somehow survive it. Refugees walk hundreds of miles, pile their families and a few belongings into small boats to cross treacherous waters in hope of finding safety. They enter strange countries where now they are often unwelcome, mistreated, harmed or sent back to the nightmare they fled. How do they do it? How do they go on? The human spirit, though fragile, often shocks us with its undeterred courage. And here, in our country, minorities still struggle to be free. Free of discrimination, injustice, abuse, and hate. That our black friends still, after all these years, have to fight for basic rights is a stain on our democracy. Yet, they carry on,...

I visited my brother, Jim, in Oklahoma City this week. I have mentioned here that he has myotonic dystrophy, a slow degenerative disease of the muscles. He fell a few months ago and has been recovering. He is now in a nursing center and will not be able to return to his home where he lived alone. Because the lungs are muscles too, his are weak and failing. So he is on oxygen now around the clock. He wears one of those small tubes inserted in his nostrils that wrap around his ears. You don’t notice it after a while. I hope he doesn’t either, though at times, his breathing is labored. He does notice that, as I do, and my heart wilts momentarily for him until the air returns smoothly again. We had a good visit. We of course talked politics, how does anyone avoid that after the national shame we’ve all endured? He did not vote. He was struggling with his injury and simply was not able to absentee vote. But we talked about how he would have voted and how I voted. It was a good disc...

I Want a Cottage by the Ocean I love the city with its array of delights, its offerings of culture, its libraries and theaters, its parks and plazas, its lights and music But I am weary of the city, with its loud presence and its oppressive anonymity, its   hemmed in freeways and the misery of endless construction I want a cottage by the ocean, where the air is clean, where seagulls fly and the aura is gentle; where the sun rises and sets on a clear horizon— a misty shimmering line   low   in the sky that invites dreams, and prompts secrets, and asks me to wonder I want distance from the acrimony in our cities, from the rage and the fury in traffic, from the numbing of noise and nonsense I want to feel things, kisses and love and the holding of hands, long embraces and deep conversations— the joy of connection I want to be close to the earth, to the forces of life; I want to hear the songs o...

I recently spent a day in Oklahoma City with my brother, Jim, who has muscular dystrophy. He fell at home a few weeks ago and had to have surgery. He is now in a rehabilitation center. The doctors and physical therapists are trying to get him to a place where he will have some measure of independence. He will not, however, be able to return home. It’s possible that he could go into assisted living, but more probably, he will have to go to a nursing home and live there. He is facing all of this with a lot of heart and reality. He knows his health has seriously deteriorated and   living   alone is no longer an option for him. But he is also experiencing, understandably, a certain sadness about his situation. I feel sad for him as well. Jim was once a tall, healthy, athletic guy. He played baseball in high school. Was a terrific swimmer. He loved to play golf. In his late 20’s he began to experience a weakness in his arms and legs. As time went by and his symptoms worsen...