Planting seeds

Find the seed at the bottom of your heart and bring forth a flower. 

- Shigenori Kameoka

It's gonna take way more than this morning's six mile run to process where I am right now. It's been such a long, long path to get here, and the path ahead will be longer still. There will be rocks and there will be hills along the way, but it's gonna be a beautiful run.

As I was out running this morning, discovering new side streets in the neighborhood where I've lived for over five years, I started thinking about the many, many, many people, conversations, events, occasions, places, challenges, relationships, and teeny tiny fleeting moments that led me here. It was ten years ago that I first learned about chaplaincy, that I first began to understand what a chaplain does, and that I had that very first, primitive, embryonic notion that I wanted to do it. It took me ten years to finally start this journey towards becoming a chaplain, but I know with all my heart that it could not have possibly started any earlier. It was not time; I was not ready.

There were so many things that led me here - a lot of them were joyful, heart-opening discoveries, but let's be honest, just as many if not more of the things that led me here were painful and difficult. I have shed more than a few tears along the way, some of joy, some of sorrow. It wasn't until this morning's run that I had the mental image of all these things - beautiful, sad, happy - fitting together like puzzle pieces. And now, though the puzzle is not complete, the picture is a little more clear. The finished product is vaguely visible.

All of these little things I remember and wonder if, at the time, I knew how important they would be on this journey. I wonder if I had any idea when I experienced these things that they'd ultimately lead me to leave my job and career and go after something that I didn't just want to do, but felt called to do. Training to be a hospice volunteer, working with poor kids in Jamaica, writing in a journal, church searching for 16 years, dating an addict, traveling all over the world, fundraising, getting sick and being hospitalized three times, moving abroad, discovering trail running, talking to strangers on airplanes, working at a place I loved and doing a job I did not love, volunteering in a prison, joining a public speaking group and learning to give speeches, watching my grandmother die,becoming an aunt to the most beautiful kids on earth, learning to pray, finding yoga, taking a drum class, planting a garden, going on retreats, being pushed and pulled out of my comfort zone.... Did I have any idea when a pilot struck up a conversation with me before a flight back from LA that he was in school to be a pastor, and that just a few weeks later I'd apply to a degree program that would eventually make me a chaplain? And maybe more to the point, did he have any idea that our brief conversation would have such a life-changing impact on me? When I could barely put myself back together after breaking up with my boyfriend, the addict, did I have any idea that someday that understanding of addiction might actually be helpful in my career? Did I ever think during my 16 years of church searching that those days would lead me not only to a church but to a career?

One of the most amazingly influential aspects of this journey is the amount of support and encouragement I experienced, often times from people I didn't even know that well. For the majority of the past ten years, I did not tell a soul that chaplaincy was something I wanted to do. Not my parents, not my sisters, not my best friends. For about nine years, the only people who knew were my old roommate and my ex boyfriend. And then, recently, I started sharing this with more people. Not everyone, just a select few. And they believed in me. They believed that I could do this, and that I'd be good at it. A lot of friends, colleagues, and peers have believed in me and my abilities way more than I've believed in myself. 

So now that I'm on this path, I realize that we sometimes - often times - have no idea how these seeds will grow. Everything we do, everyone we meet, everywhere we go...all of these moments and experiences carry us forward and on to the next thing. And even if we have no idea what that next thing may be, we're already preparing for it. And the world is already preparing us for it.

So you wanna be a chaplain?

In the past few days, I interviewed for and got offered a great job, turned down that great job, decided to go to grad school full-time, and quit the job I've had for over three years. So how'd all that happen? How'd I get here? I mean how'd I get here, as in me, grad school, chaplaincy, and two impending years of eating Ramen noodles and hanging out in the library.

It's been a long, long LONG path. (Did I mention it's been a long path?) It has taken me literally ten years to pursue something that has been in my heart for that long, and I guess the reason I'm finally pursuing it is because it's consistently and constantly been in my heart. At some times I've been more aware than at other times, but it's been there all along nonetheless.

Ten years ago I worked in fundraising at the Dana-Farber. It was my first real job after grad school, I liked it and I was good at it. The work felt rewarding, especially when I stepped back and considered the 'big picture'. But above all, raising money to help find a cure for cancer? Hard to top that for motivation...

Somewhere along the line - and I don't even remember when or how - my path led me to Helena, the hospital chaplain intern, and we became friends. Like me, she was in her 20's and we shared a love of running by the Charles River and studying Italian. We even organized a summer class for a bunch of friends to take Italian together. The classes were often followed by drinks and chit-chat at a nearby bar and, though the conversations were never too deep, the more I learned about Helena's job, the more intrigued I became.

In one of those now-or-never moments, I eventually turned down a promotion at the Dana-Farber and left my job there to teach English in Italy. No one - family, friends, colleagues, etc. - really knew about my interest in Chaplaincy, though during my time in Italy I often thought about it when I went out running or talked with my American roommate. Because of our shared interest in many things spiritual and faith-related, I confided my interest in Chaplaincy to Gina and we revisited the topic on many occasions, but it remained more of a "yeah, someday" kind of thing. And yet, every single time I thought about what I ultimately wanted to do with my life, becoming a Chaplain was on the list. It simply never moved, and neither did I.

Fast forward a few years. I'm home after two years in Italy and I'm working for a non-profit that raises money for cancer research and patient care. We interact with patients and their families on a daily basis, and the work is emotionally exhausting. In the course of a few short months, five of the organization's well-known volunteers are diagnosed with cancer or experience a relapse. One of them is my ex-boyfriend. And yet, no one - NO ONE - addresses how this might affect us personally, spiritually, or emotionally. I seek understanding and support and find none.

At one point when I was working with the non-profit, I was hospitalized for a week due to ulcerative colitis (which I've had since I was 20). Alone in my hospital room with one window that faced a brick wall, I read and watched tv, spent time with my family and friends who visited, and struck up conversations with just about anyone who entered the room. (Even the janitor who didn't speak English..."Hablas ingles?? Por favor??") One afternoon, the Chaplain came in. He was close to my age, maybe in his 20's. He introduced himself, explained his role at the hospital, and asked if I had any questions or anything I'd like to talk about. I think he might have been anticipating a question like, "Why does God allow physical suffering?", "If I don't atone for my sins before I die, can I still get to Heaven?", or "Did bad karma land me in this shithole?" He waited for my reply. "Uh yeah..." I asked, "Could you pull up a chair for a while and tell me about Divinity School?". (He did.)

Throughout my travels and my professional career, I've also been on a faith journey and a discernment of beliefs. It has at many times been lonely, frustrating, and exhausting as I endeavored to find a church where I felt at home and a faith I could call my own. I was away from the Catholic Church for over 16 years, most of which time I spent 'church searching' and looking for someplace where I could go because I wanted to and not because I felt I should. A Catholic Church was the last place I thought I'd find that, but I did.

When I was out running early one morning, I ran by St. Ignatius in Chestnut Hill. Haven't been there yet, I thought. So I went to Sunday mass there and I liked it. I kept coming back, and I met people I liked. I went on a service trip to Jamaica and it changed my life. I learned more about Ignatian Spirituality and the Jesuits, and I liked that, too. At last, when I had stopped looking, I found what I was seeking all along.

At St. Ignatius I learned about Discernment, or the process of listening to what God is calling a person to do. Is one's vocation priesthood (no)? Married life (maybe)? Single life (Lord, I hope note)? Parenthood? Education? I knew even before asking myself these questions that what I was doing professionally was definitely not my calling.

The Jesuits, as I learned, are very much about introspection, reflection, education, and service. The minute I understood that, I knew I was home. Introspection is practically my middle name! Service? I like service!

As I put more attention towards listening to God and discerning my own calling, things began coming together. That word 'chaplaincy' kept popping up, and Divinity School was still on my list of Things To Do Before I Die. Either I was more open to the people and conversations that seemed to keep coming my way, or the right people kept showing up on my path at the right time. From the most unlikely and surprising sources, I found encouragement, support, and validation. Sometimes it was simply the right words at the right time, and sometimes it was a situation that seemed too obvious to ignore. Whatever it was, doing nothing was no longer an option.

I decided that Spring '09 would be the time for information-gathering and experiencing, and if after that I decided that Divinity School could be crossed off my list, then I'd do exactly that, I'd move on and I would no longer even think about it. If it stayed on the list, it was time to do something. I once saw a movie about historian Howard Zinn entitled, "You Can't Stand Still on a Moving Train". That's exactly how I felt.

Over the course of a few months, I took a class at Harvard Divinity School, met weekly with a Spiritual Director and went on a retreat. My colleague and I applied to present at a work-related conference and got selected. I had no idea at the time, but the two-day retreat and the conference preparation would ultimately be two of the most influential and guiding factors in my decision to apply to the School of Theology and Ministry at BC.

On the retreat in mid-February, I spent a lot of time alone and in contemplation, wondering what my calling was, how I would hear it and how I would get there. Divinity School kept coming into my mind, but an intense 3+ year program didn't seem like the right thing for me right now. To be honest, the prospect was completely overwhelming.

On the second morning of the retreat, as I made my way to the dining room for some caffeine, one of my acquaintances from Church approached me and placed a hang on my shoulder. "Alyssa! You don't have to go to Divinity School!!" Trudy seemed very excited about this and I wasn't yet sure why...I'd told her about my interest in Chaplaincy a while back but had kinda forgotten. She told me that BC had an MA in Pastoral Ministry and that a lot of people use the program as a path to Chaplaincy. Some students went full time and some went part time, and the student body was diverse in age, experience, and intention. And thus...I understood her excitement. I thanked her and shuffled off to get my coffee, but what Trudy said stayed in my mind. A seed had been planted, an idea awakened...

A week or so later, while working on the conference presentation after work with my colleague George, I confided in him how unhappy I was at work and that I didn't feel like my current job was my calling. George is a person of tremendous faith, and when he asked me what I really wanted to do with my life, I spilled my guts. I told him that I wanted to be a Chaplain, and that I'd wanted to do so for the past ten years.

The thing about George, I had learned by working with him and talking with him, is that he's academically and professionally accomplished and not someone I'd classify as a dreamer, but he knows when a decision needs to be made with the heart vs. with the brain, and he told me to do just that. "Alyssa, you make the little decisions with your head, and the big decisions with your heart. Have you visited BC? When does summer session start? Work backwards from that date - what do you need to do now to be at the first day of summer session?" Wow, was it that simple?

After a few phone calls to Admissions at BC, I got myself an appointment with the Dean of Admissions. I studied the program website and prepared my questions, and on Wednesday, March 18, 2009, I met with the Dean at his office, just a mile from my home and in a building I must have walked by a hundred times without ever paying any attention to it. When I left the Dean's office, I knew that this was it.

Within a week I had my transcripts and application completed, my recommendations spoken for, and my essay printed out. I carefully put everything together and walked it over to the post office. I even remember telling the postman that my future was in that envelope.

And then I waited. And waited. And waited. A month later Admissions called me with the great news that not only had I been accepted, but that I had been granted a significant amount of financial aid.

In the meantime, I was offered another job and 95% of me really wanted to take it. It would be a great job working with an amazing team, and it would keep me at Fletcher. Theoretically, I could work full-time and go to school part-time. A small part of me cursed being offered the job at all because it made my decision harder - I wanted both, but I knew in my heart that I couldn't have both. And then I had this revelation: I had to choose. I had to actively choose Option A or Option B. I couldn't just go with one plan because the other one didn't work out. If I hadn't been offered the job, I would have gone to school full-time because it was my back-up plan.

So I turned down the job. It was hard, but it was the right thing for me to do. When I told my boss I was leaving, I think we both felt relieved to acknowledge after 18 months of tense conversations that fundraising was not my gig. BC was, and that's where I'm headed.

Last night I shared the big news with my neighbors and friends, Erin & Jess. Jess cracked open a bottle of prosecco and we toasted my big decision. As we sat around her kitchen counter and I shared the whole long tale of how I made this choice, we also toasted the many, many people who helped me get to this point, whether they knew it or not.
Cheers to them, and may I someday return the life-changing favor.