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My father used to gift the women in his life boxes of chocolates on Valentine\u2019s Day. Not an outrageous expense, but a nice gesture my mother and sisters and me had come to expect.<\/p>\nMy father used to gift the women in his life boxes of chocolates on Valentine\u2019s Day. Not an outrageous expense, but a nice gesture my mother and sisters and me had come to expect.<\/p>\n
Russel Stover Chocolates or Whitman Samplers, or our hometown favorite, Fannie May, it was always fun to gobble up the sweet treats and have a heart-shaped box left over, perfect for hiding mementos or keepsakes.<\/p>\n
I know that the commercial side of the holiday focuses on luring customers into specialty stores like Lovers Lane or to weekend spa retreats.<\/p>\n
I understand that sex sells and that romance is often expressed in terms of gift-giving, but LOVE is a broader theme. It\u2019s not only about Cupid and Eros. The concept of love touches on all aspects of our lives; our hopes and dreams and our very concept of what it means to be human.<\/p>\n
Earlier this week, I gave thought to a less-poeticized form of love; compassion.<\/p>\n
I volunteer several hours a week for a hospice organization. I am generally quick to be of help to strangers when I can. I think I have a good handle on feeling for others navigating through their lives, like all of us, without an owner\u2019s manual.<\/p>\n
But I watched myself and my thoughts as I took off my boots and got settled in at Lincoln Square Acupuncture. I have had sleeping problems for years and have found that a few well-placed needles often help. \u00a0I also wanted to see if the proprietor could offer some relief for sinus headaches which have knocked me out lately.<\/p>\n
While getting settled, I overheard a conversation between the office manager and two women clients. I assumed they were trying to work out follow-up appointments. The task was complicated by the fact that one didn\u2019t drive and her friend handled all the transportation arrangements.<\/p>\n
They also had an incredible array of other appointments to work around.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, we can\u2019t come Tuesday afternoon.\u201d I heard one say. \u201cWe have the chiropractor scheduled for three.\u201d<\/p>\n
They had upcoming visits scheduled for infrared saunas and even plans for getting their nails done. Fortunately, David K. operates his clinic under a community model. Treatments are performed in a group setting where multiple patients can get served simultaneously. They charge on a sliding scale and see five to eight people at a time in two rooms.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s rare to have to wait more than a couple days to come in.<\/p>\n
I remembered feeling some irritation at the thought of these two women making scheduling so complicated, of taking up so much of the office manager\u2019s time, of running their lives around healthcare visits and seeking the attentions of numerous practitioners.<\/p>\n
As I made myself comfortable on a recliner in the smaller of the two rooms, inserted my ear buds, and waited for David K. to talk with me about my concerns, I watched one of the two women, struggle with her walker and head for the door.<\/p>\n
Then it struck me. Who am I to say what makes anyone feel better? Or to judge the benefits of seeing multiple practitioners? Or weigh in on whether a remedy is worth the cost?<\/p>\n
And then the acupuncturist knelt by my chair. He listened to my complaints and description of responses to past treatments. He wore a mask, from years operating under COVID guidelines, but was relaxed about whether his patients complied to the same rules.<\/p>\n
He formulated plans for each person he met only after talking to them. He didn\u2019t seem to make judgements about whether someone\u2019s distress justified the visit.<\/p>\n
For forty-five minutes, I listened to Deva Premal on my iPhone and hoped my sinuses would open up.<\/p>\n
Hard to explain, but I felt compassion<\/strong> flowed throughout \u00a0the modest second floor complex. A lot of training and expertise went into the visit, but maybe more importantly, I felt cared for and listened to \u2014 and that everyone seeking help was treated the same.<\/p>\n The practice had a small display of merch near the exit and I stopped at a small rack of \u201ccompression\u201d socks. I misread the sign as Compassion<\/strong> socks.<\/p>\n Before easing out into the cold winter air, I laughed at the thought. \u00a0Imagine wearing socks (for only $29, too) that would render you more compassionate, more authentically attuned to the challenges and suffering of others.<\/p>\n Taking a moment to contemplate how to be more compassionate is no small thing.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" My father used to gift the women in his life boxes of chocolates on Valentine\u2019s…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":9323,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[632],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9322","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-weekly-blog","grateful-dozen-musings-imaginings"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n