Now that my Behavioral Therapy Study is coming to its end, I was asked to reflect and review.
I’m slowly connecting the dots. I still have a few more weeks to get a clearer picture.
Now, I’m sitting here waiting, waiting to conveniently remember, remember, remembering what I had held true, what had guided me through.
I’m starting to see what caused the tumbling down the rabbit hole and why Kansas went ByeBye.
One of my new activities is my volunteer work with Hospice. At first I thought, it would help me coming to terms with my father’s death. I thought facing the finite nature of humankind, head on, would help. Maybe it does but so far it’s not helping it just makes everything even harder. I can’t buy into the whole theory of “accept your suffering and it will be easier”. Then again, I easily accept the fact that life sucks and if you get your cookie be happy, you may not get it tomorrow. I guess it’s all the same one is just a little deeper than the other.
One of the reason why my volunteer work with Hospice makes it harder is, not only do I stare death in the face each time I enter the hospital or the care center. My patient maybe doing well but each time I walk down the hallway to her room; one face along that hallway has left, replaced with a new one, which may not be there the next week. It’s the question, the question that drives us all, “what is it all for”. What is it, this what we call life, this illusive idea of living a meaningful life? What is it really?
When I sit and contemplate the meaning of it all, I hear my Dad’s voice echoing in my head. What the meaning is, how one should live life etc. Maybe one day after I figured it out for myself the voice will go away, maybe one day I’ll find comfort in its presents.
Volunteering for Hospice made me realize how materialistic our society is. I’m questioned constantly why I’m doing this, if I’m not getting paid. One person, said, “Well I could understand if you are doing it for your course work or study but WHY what is in it for you”. Trying to find the answer to the question, I said. To which, I gotten the obscure answer, “you just need to come to peace with yourself”. To this the answer would be “Cotidiana vilescunt”, I guess.
Still, kind of interesting how we in this modern western world, measures everything that matters in relationship to matter and then we turn around and act surprised about the large depression population and the overuse of the depression drug class.
Over the last six months I read a lot of reports of people with terminal illnesses. A patient enters Hospice if their life expectancy is six months or less. Some fight against the odds and live longer but in the end they all die, we all die.
Still connecting the dots.