"Here I Am And Nowhere Else"

This past weekend, My Love and I traveled to Omaha to visit with Marilyn, a member of our morning Bible Study from Idaho, who has been visiting her daughter and family. What a tremendous gift it was to spend time together, to share meals, fun and relaxation.

But the highlight of the weekend was the attendance on Friday evening at the lecture by Mark Gilbert and the ensuing visit to his art exhibit entitled "Here I Am and Nowhere Else" at the Bemis Center for Contemporary Arts on Saturday. Mark Gilbert is a Scottish artist who has worked with the Medical Center at the University of Nebraska-Omaha to complete a collection of sketches, paintings, woodcuts and other pieces, many life-size, of people dealing with illness, dying, healing and birth. This intersection of medicine and art has been an attempt to humanize the struggle that people find themselves in when living through circumstances that very often can be dehumanizing as well as discouraging and disheartening for both patients and their caregivers.

For me, it was a deeply touching and profoundly moving experience. As I viewed the various sketches and paintings, I came to several realizations. First of all, life is very, very fragile. The line between health and sickness can be crossed very suddenly at any age. Life can be turned upside down in a moment, and the best laid plans can be thrown aside with no forewarning. This certainly is a reminder of Who is in Charge of our lives at all times -- and it isn't me!

Secondly, the line between patient and caregiver is very often blurred. We are all caregivers at various times in our lives for others. We are also all in need of care from time to time. Sometimes these two callings overlap at the same time, or even in the same relationship. This is especially difficult for me because I find it much easier to give than to receive. This is partly true because when I am giving, when I am in the role of caregiver, I can at least feel like I am more in control than when I am on the passive, receiving end.

The third insight was the resiliency of people. The paintings and sketches of both patients and caregivers manifested the indomitable spirit that shined through in even the most seemingly hopeless situations. People confronted with terminal illnesses who refused to give up, refused to become their illness, but instead maintained their personhood, their personalities and their perspectives. This strength of spirit was evident in children, young adults and elderly people. In each case, they seemed to rise to the occasion presented by their illness, and even if they died as a result of it, they rose above it, conquered it and survived.

I have come away from this weekend with a greater desire to live life in its fullness each day, and day by day because we never know what tomorrow can bring. If I live life to the fullest today, and each day, then I will never have regrets at some future date. I also will not be plagued with worries about tomorrow, for tomorrow will take care of itself.

Finally, I find a need to be more gentle with others. Every person that I meet each day is also walking this tightrope between sickness and health, caregiver and patient, victim and survivor. Each one is somewhere on the spectrum of life-death whether he/she realizes it or not. By being more sensitive and gentle, I can afford them the opportunity of engaging their own humanity and living more fully their own journey.

What a blessing and a gift this past weekend has been! To cut through all the "stuff" of everyday life and get to the basics of life and death makes each moment more precious, and each person more valuable. Would that I could remain in this consciousness each day.