By Kathleen Gerwin

For those of you who have spent any time around teenagers, I’m going to wager that you’ve heard this sentence uttered more than once: “Oh my God, that’s SO awkward.” As a high school teacher, it’s a phrase I cannot seem to escape and one that seems to be applied to just about everything, from a parent’s overly enthusiastic greeting, to public speaking, and everything in between.

Some of this is just part of growing up. In adolescence, as your body and mind are betraying you, developing in new and strange ways, it’s difficult to not view things through the lens of awkwardness. Who among us can forget those painful adolescent moments when it felt as if the room was closing in on us and melting into the floor seemed like the best possible outcome?

What worries me about teenagers today, however, is twofold.

First, the fact that many normal, developmentally appropriate situations are being painted as awkward. For example: on a recent service trip with my students, I was driving a group of seniors from our Habitat worksite to the Church that was hosting us for dinner. Our GPS had taken us off-course, so I asked one of the girls to call the Church to inform our host that we would be a few minutes late. From the look on my otherwise extremely extroverted, socially adept student’s face, you would have thought that I had asked her to run through the parking lot naked. “Ms. GERWIN,” she cried, “That’s so AWKWARD!” The rest of girls chimed in, agreeing that calling a stranger —even for less than a minute to convey information—was in the 7^th Ring of Awkward Hell.

The second, and potentially more troubling fact, is that this generation of teens seems to have far more ways to avert or avoid those awkward moments: texting has made it so every response can be edited and reviewed by a jury of peers; silent moments at dinner can be filled with time on your phone or the drone of the TV; in a photo-shop, Facebook-centric world, pictures and profiles can be cleaned up so only the most “acceptable” self has to be presented to the world. The danger is that rather than having to sit in those awkward moments, teens—and perhaps all of us—never have the chance to come to the other side of those uncomfortable situations and realize that they won’t, in fact, kill us. Awkward moments, like adolescence, are periods of growth—often far from pleasant, but necessary if we are to develop properly.

The gift of sitting in awkwardness is the realization that there is a Self within us that goes beyond feelings, situations, or judgments. And that is certainly nothing to feel awkward about.

By Kathleen Gerwin

Over spring break, I did something I never usually get a chance to do (or admit to doing). Dressed in my most impossibly soft pair of sweats, with chips in hand, I plopped down on the couch, flipped on the TV and spent a couple of hours watching junk food for the mind, also known as Reality TV.

What is it about reality TV that’s so intoxicating—or so repulsive—to so many? It certainly evokes strong reactions either way—people may love it unabashedly or love it guiltily; they may find it vapid, deeming it worthless trash and never deign to watch, or find it vapid and just not be able to look away. No matter what the reaction, one can’t deny that Reality TV has firmly planted itself in our collective psyche. The question is: Why?

St. Ignatius Loyola may have some insight for us. One of Ignatius’ core teachings is the practice of Finding God in All Things. I think the operative word in the teaching is “finding”, meaning that while the pearl of wisdom might not immediately be apparent, all experiences are an invitation to go deeper if we are willing.

But surely Ignatius wasn’t anticipating a world populated by the Kardashian sisters or the Real Housewives of Atlanta—or was he? Perhaps one answer is that these shows embody parts of ourselves that we are unwilling to admit are there—parts of ourselves that scare or repulse us so much that we need them to be externalized, embodied by someone else. That way they stay safe and “other” and never really demand us to see them as part of us.

If I have decided that Kim Kardashian is vapid and superficial and feel just a little bit better about myself because of it, I never have to look at the ways in which I, too, am vapid or superficial. If I am outraged that there is a mom who would put her 2-year-old in a beauty pageant, I never really have to acknowledge the part of myself that is insecure about my parenting because I have such a clear example of a “Really Bad Mom.”

In therapy or spiritual work, one of our jobs is to befriend those parts of ourselves we would rather reject and embrace those parts of ourselves that we are ashamed of. To do this, we must be brave enough to acknowledge that these parts of exist. I’m not saying that you should swap your meditation practice for a Jersey Shore marathon, but we can begin to see all of life as an invitation to do just this. It could be really fun.

by Andrea Noel

At a recent visit to my alma mater, I encountered a group of students who chose to participate in the annual Alternative Spring Break (ASB) Program. ASB is a weeklong service learning experience that students voluntarily substitute for entertaining vacations during spring break. ASB is spread nationally and internationally, involves graduates and undergraduates, and responds to the needs of marginalized populations.

Throughout the week, students live together and work in teams at various sites providing services to forgotten residents in local communities. Each day, they reflect on their encounters at these sites. During my visit with the Washington D.C. ASB team, I witnessed meaningful thoughts students shared about people they met at schools, homeless shelters, and hospices.

One particular student shared that there exists this overwhelming need for change in the world. In Washington D.C. there are too many homeless people, individuals dying of AIDS/HIV, children abused and neglected, schools closing and over-crowded, violent crimes increasing, and fixed unemployment rates. This student said it seems impossible for one week of service to make any difference in the lives of individuals who encounter so much scarcity, violence, or disregard. The student believed the work of the week seemed hopeless.

After hearing this, I recalled a prayer attributed to Archbishop Oscar Romero. This prayer was written by Bishop Ken Untener, of Saginaw, November 1979, in celebration of the lives of departed priests.

“…The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise
that is God’s work. Nothing we do is complete…the Kingdom always lies beyond
us.

No statement says all that could be said.

No prayer fully expresses our faith…

No pastoral visit brings wholeness.

No program accomplishes the Church’s mission…

This is what we are about.

We plant the seeds that one day will grow.

We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development…

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.

This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.

It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an

opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master

builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.

We are prophets of a future not our own.[1]”
Amen.

May this prayer shape our ways of being present to those we serve as pastoral counselors and spiritual caregivers. Although problems around us seem monumental, let us do whatever we can with love and care.

By Kate Gerwin

“Thank you so much for taking the time to meet with me. I‘d like to discuss the most efficient way for me complete the program…”

The words come back to me like it was yesterday. At the ripe old age of 25, the specter of 30 loomed large in the distance like an exacting track coach, ready to record my time; I was beginning to feel the pressure to “have something to show for myself,”…not that I would have admitted that to anyone—or God forbid to myself—at the time. Having attended Loyola as an undergrad Theology major, I had long been familiar with the Pastoral Counseling program and knew that something felt right about it to me; the marriage of spirituality and psychology excited me in a way I couldn’t yet name, but I somehow knew I needed to be a part of what it entailed. My desire was sincere and my heart was open, and yet I couldn’t shake the culturally prescribed feeling that I had to get it all done NOW… or better yet, yesterday. 

Without hesitating, Dr. Filakowski smiled knowingly and offered what might be the best advice I’ve received to date, “Try not to speed up the process too much.”

And that is exactly what my time in the Pastoral Counseling program has been; a process. Not necessarily a linear one, not always a “successful” one, but certainly a life changing one. It has been the process of learning to accept where I am and who I am— a person full of flaws and contradictions, gifts and graces. It has been a process of learning how to press into those parts of myself that scare me and cause me to recoil; and to freely gift those parts of me that I love, without expectation of return. It has been a process of learning to wait expectantly while immersing myself in the moment and a process that challenges me to constantly reexamine what I knew to be true. It is a process that has helped me to become more compassionate, more open minded and even, more patient. Though I hope to graduate in May of 2015 (after 30, I might add), I hope it is a process that never ends.

Name: Kathleen “Kate” Gerwin
Program: MS Pastoral Counseling

1. How far along are you in the program?
   I have 6 classes left to go and all of my clinical internship to complete.
2. Favorite Quote:
   “I want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think.” – Rumi
3. Favorite spot in Baltimore:
   So many!! The Charles Theatre, One World Café, the BMA, Atwater’s Bakery, Camden Yards… the list goes on!
4. Where is your hometown?
   McLean, VA—but I have been adopted by Baltimore and plan to make it my hometown for good… Go Ravens!
5. What is the most meaningful class you’ve taken?
   Introduction to Pastoral Counseling with Dr. Dee Preston Dillon.
6. Who is your inspiration?
   My spiritual director Fran—no one has taught me more about authenticity and the free, exhilarating, occasionally terrifying but always beautiful gift of life than she has.
7. What are three unusual things about yourself?
   1. Growing up, I wanted to be a spy or a queen.
   2. I am a pretty big nerd (and I own it!) about holistic living and dieting.
   3. I rescue bugs.
8. What is your dream job?
   Working at a “Wellness Center” in which traditional therapy and “alternative” medicine are combined—being able to focus on and heal the WHOLE person! Writing and speaking would be in there too somewhere. If I didn’t want to go into this field, I would want to be a fundraiser for a non-profit.
9. What else should the readers of Making Meaning know about you? 
    I’m happiest when I’m outdoors; I love to do yoga and dance and plan to get my yoga teacher’s license this summer; I consider guacamole to be a food group unto itself; I am very interested in the Enneagram and plan to become a certified Enneagram practitioner; my favorite movie is “It’s A Wonderful Life”; I’m a social introvert; I love exploring new places, whether it’s a new city or a new shop around the corner; I am a big fan of black sharpies and a compulsive  “thank you” note writer; my friends, family and community mean the world to me.

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Name: Andrea A. Noel
Program: MA Pastoral and Spiritual Care

1. How far along are you in the program?
   I am in my first year.
2. Favorite Quote:
   “The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love and to be greater than our suffering.” - Ben Okri
3. Where is your hometown?
   San Fernando, Trinidad, by way of Valdosta, Georgia
4. What is the most meaningful class you’ve taken?
   Theological Anthropology and Group Spiritual Formation
5. Who is your inspiration?
   My family… especially my older brother.
6. What are three unusual things about yourself?
   1. I graduated from high school at age 16.
   2. I have two nose rings.
   3. I wear a lot of purple.
7. What is your dream job?
   Being an entrepreneur as a spiritual director, success coach, writer, artise, and having my own retreat center.
8. What else should the readers of Making Meaning know about you?
   I am! I am a daughter, sister, wife, friend, lover, artist, student, teacher, thinking, engineer, writer, dreamer, believer, cat-lover, contemplative, healer, cook, photographer… IamGod.

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by Kathleen Gerwin

Lent just might be my favorite season. That’s not something I advertise and certainly not something I lead with at cocktail parties. When most people hear the word “Lent,” it usually brings to mind images of Girl Scout cookies deferred and pizza every Friday for a month, not to mention oh-so-fun terms like sacrifice and self-deprivation.

This used to be my view of Lent—40 days of chocolate-less Facebook deprivation. For the past few years however, I have been picking a different Lenten commitment to practice over 40 days and it has caused me to fall in love with this beautiful, misunderstood season.

This Lent, I chose gratitude. When I set out to practice gratitude, I had no idea the riches I would discover. I knew that grateful people were happier, healthier, lived longer, and were just more enjoyable to be around. I was excited to focus on all of the riches in my life that I often miss because I’m “too busy” or unaware. What I was really interested in, however, was how this practice might help me to become more thankful for the things that I’m not naturally inclined to be grateful for, like that co-worker who just won’t stop talking while I am furiously working, or the fender bender on my way to  class . . . or even the relationship where my trust was betrayed.

As I have practiced gratitude over the last 30 days or so, I have not found that the interruptions, disappointments and hurts have ceased—if anything, I am even more aware of them. What I have found is that these moments where gratitude seems impossible have opened me up to the opportunity that the moment presents. American Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron writes beautifully on this topic. Rather than being originally sinful, Sr. Chodron sees people as originally wounded. Each one of us has a tender place of vulnerability or hurt that we go throughout life trying guard. Sometimes we’re successful at guarding the spot and we feel like life is good and everything is as it should be. Sometimes, however, we fail to defend our wound and stuff gets in—people annoy us or disappoint us or even fail us and we have to experience the pain of our wounding all over again.

It is at these times, however, that we are offered the opportunity to really heal  ourselves. When stuff “gets in” and our defenses break down, that is when we have the chance to become our authentic selves and connect with the fact that we are worthy and loved just as we are and there is no need to go through life with walls up. Suddenly, life becomes more spacious and gentle. The universe is a kinder, more joyful place to be. And that is certainly something to be grateful for.

by Kathleen Gerwin

Recently, my sister and I helped my dad clean out his storage shed. Amidst the laughter that accompanied the excavation of our childhood, we came across a box marked “TROPHIES,” a war chest of gold-painted plastic—relics from our “glory days” in sports.

My sister and I are products of what I lovingly call “The Little League Generation,” where everybody got a trophy. Whether it was through fear of hurting our fragile egos or the desire to engender a sense of positive self-esteem, no sports season was complete without the “awards ceremony” in which we were bedecked with the spoils of our season . . . namely, a trophy. This is not to say that I didn’t have incredible coaches who taught me invaluable lessons, but the sheer size and quantity of these golden treasures got me wondering about the way in which we often teach kids—and clients—lessons about self-esteem and self-worth.

Is the best way to engender a high sense of self-esteem to bestow on our kids “trophies” in the form of praise and positive labeling? As a teacher, I have seen the unintended consequences that such labeling can have—the student whose “gifted” label requires her to get straight A’s can suffer just as much as the student from whom much less is expected. “Beautiful,” “smart,” “talented,” and “athletic” carry with them just as much baggage as “ugly,” “dumb,” “worthless,” and “fat.” Many a “gold trophy” comes at the cost of sacrificing self-hood on the altar of others expectations.

In his book, Intimacy and Desire, David Snarch writes that the problem for most individuals is that they lack a “solid flexible self.” “To the degree that you lack a solid sense of self,” writes Snarch, “you depend on a reflected sense of self.” A solid, yet flexible, sense of self allows us to interact with others from a place stability rather than need and is characterized by:

• An internalized set of values by which you run your life
• A lasting sense of self-worth
• An ability to maintain your own convictions, despite others disagreeing
• Releasing the need to always be right and not “crashing” when you’re wrong
• A willingness to self-reflect (without guilt and judgment) and change course if necessary

As a pastoral counselor, this is the type of self-esteem I hope to engender in my clients—a sense of self that is internally derived and nurtured. After all, perhaps the very best trophy is the one that we give to ourselves.

by Andrea Noel

Four years ago, I began writing these “Dear ME” messages on post-it notes, sticking them up around my house and cubicle at work. This practice was more than writing simple affirmations or wishes; it was my approach to manifesting a new way of being. After working as a chemical engineer for almost seven years, buying my first home, car, and travelling around and outside the United States, I recognized that I spent a lot of time doing things, but not much time being. I considered how I lived. I had accumulated material possessions, and even more digital photos, but could not feel those tangible emotions that give life deeper meaning. I felt empty inside.

I began reflecting on what does it mean to be? According to my iPhone’s dictionary.com mobile application, some synonyms for the word doing are action, performance, and execution; and synonyms for the word being are living, conscious, and substance. Doing and being are clearly two different states: I was definitely great at doing, but needed to work on my being. I also recognized that both doing and being are necessary parts of life. However, striking a healthy balance between the two is the trick to living a fulfilling existence.

So, I made the intention to find small ways to punctuate my doing with being, using the “Dear ME” messages as simple reminders. I began being more patient with myself and others. I learned how to be silent; listening for God and to those around me. I started to be more accepting of events and people; learning to let go and seeking less control.

After a few months I noticed that I smiled more, I rushed less; I even drove the speed limit more often! Then I explored bigger ways to be. I intentionally attended a retreat every three months. I began spending more time with family and friends. I also explored several contemplative spiritual practices to further cultivate my capacity to be.

Those around me began seeing the difference that the intention to be made in my life. My co-workers shared in my pleasant mood and enjoyed seeking my help with things outside of our job responsibilities. My relationships seemed to deepen in ways I had never experienced before. I also perceived that life in general began to respond toward me more compassionately.

The intention to be, more than to do, continues to transform my experience of life; I have more clarity in my life, a deeper sense of peace, better relationships with others, a well-integrated spiritual life, and I find it easier to compassionately share myself with the world. Every day I make the intention to be. Be love. Be joy. Be radiant. Be ME.

So, how have you been lately?

by Beverly Sargent

If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you. Matthew 17:20

You might have heard the radio announcements asking people to donate their vehicles to a non-profit organization.  The donated vehicles are meant to help make life easier for those with financial, mental, developmental and/or behavioral health challenges.

What does it mean to make life easier? Really, the recipient of the gift can best
express its meaning. Also, the meaning may change from day to day, week to week and month to month.  The change a vehicle can bring may be minimal to those in the organization but monumental to the family who receives it.

As Pastoral Counselors, we, too, hope to be vehicles of change. In a way, we give of ourselves as we study, write treatment plans, and share knowledge and compassion with our clients.  It is a relationship in which we give and we hope for change. To us, the change may appear minuscule; but, to our clients, it may have taken years of struggle to experience positive change.  The minuscule can be monumental!  The hope of being a vehicle of change is sort of like faith.

It’s not about the mountain. It’s about the mustard seed.

“I have a mustard seed; and I’m not afraid to use it!”

~Joseph Ratzinger: Salt of the Earth (Pope Benedict XVI)