Staying Steady~ I already have a pen.

In 2002 I went to Kenya on a trip with a group of 9 other people. I went to fulfill a childhood dream of going to Africa. The timing seemed right since both of my parents had died within 5 months of each other the previous year. It was a time of healing and reflection. The group spent several days volunteering at an orphanage run by the Missionaries of Charity, the order of Nuns founded by Mother Teresa.

Growing up Catholic Mother Teresa’s nuns were the Super Bowl Champions of nuns. They were the pinnacle of sisterhood. I was quite eager to talk with the nuns to talk about their day to day life and learn more about their calling. To a person I found the women to be strong, charming and full of humor. They were clear in their principles and answered my disbelieving questions with a knowing smile. Do you really only have 2 saris? Yes. Is that your only pair of sandals? Yes. Is it true you all sleep in one room? Yes. Did you ever get to meet Mother Teresa? Yes.

I found myself particularly drawn to one sister from Tanzania. Every day we shared stories about our lives and I got to talk at great length about my parents. One day as I approached her I offered her an ink pen. She smiled and said, “Oh no thank you, I already have a pen.” I thought she hadn’t heard me or didn’t understand. I was offering her a pen, a simple token. She smiled again and reached into her sari to hold up her pen and said, “Thank you, I already have a pen.” Clearly she didn’t understand. She might lose that pen, that pen might run out of ink or someone she met along the way might need a pen. I explained all of that to her and she smiled again, holding up the pen, and said, “I already have a pen.” Her statement was, once again, followed by the knowing smile.

I have fund myself thinking about that encounter a lot over the past several weeks. I’ve had more than one “sky is falling” moment since the State of Kansas cut Medicaid rates by 10% with little more than a month’s notice. I go back to the pen. In the process of planning for the cuts and figuring out how we will go forward, I pause to think about this moment, this time and this event. What is important? I don’t have to plan for what else might happen, I must plan for what is happening right now, in this moment. For now, we have figured out our plan for the 10% cuts and it is a good one. For now, we will continue to focus on what we know must be done, continue to assist people to build social capital and relationships in the community. Increasing support networks not only contributes to overall happiness and well being, it allows people to free themselves of paid caregivers and reliance on the state. I can deal with whatever is next, once it arrives. For now, I already have a pen.