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Tag: life

  • lynnmurphymark

    02/26/2025

    Today’s blog

    Lynn Murphy Mark

    One is silver and the other gold

    As a kid in Mexico City, I joined a Brownie troop run by some of the other “American” moms also living overseas. After Brownies came Girl Guides, or Guias, as we were known then. That meant we were officially Girl Scouts but using the original title that Robert Baden Powell gave to this movement. We learned songs, one of which was about friends and how to treat them – whether they were new friends or old companions. “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold”.

    Growing up overseas meant that the definition of “family” changed to include the fellow travelers with whom we lived, in someone else’s country. Biological family members were remote people who we visited every three years for several months of what was called Home Leave. As a friend of mine said once, my DNA was in Indiana and Oklahoma, but my  practical family was made of people who started as strangers and became friends. I had several people that I called Aunt and Uncle, adults who were close to my parents work-wise and socially. 

    My mother was a decided introvert, but she could make friends like nobody’s business. Now, this was the 1950’s and 1960’s and wives who lived overseas were stay at home moms. There were lots of bridge dates among those women. I was always impressed by the seriousness with which they played the game. But despite the intensity of bidding and the strategy of card lay-downs, there were plenty of whoops of good laughter to be heard. I believe it was that laughter that bound them together. 

    This is where I learned that friendships are essential to a happy life. Living overseas, I learned to bloom where I was planted. Because our parents were a close knit group, we kids followed their lead and made friends with the other kids. My closest childhood friends were Linda Carlson and Jimmy Clark. Our friendships were frequently tested when families would get transferred out of the country to work in another overseas assignment. We were sent to Brazil when I was 12 and had to start over creating a community.

    Brazil is where I met my current oldest friend. We were in high school together, went our separate ways for college, and stayed in occasional contact over the years. I remember that leaving her was especially painful because I cared deeply for her. Anyway, fast forward many decades to New Mexico when we lived in Santa Fe. My friend and her partner were getting ready to move to Albuquerque. The prospect of being close to her again was delightful to me. Except when Jan became intolerant of the altitude in Santa Fe and moved to Naples, Florida, we had to say goodbye again. Every time I go to New Mexico I make a date to meet up and we continue where we left off. 

    In 1970 I graduated from college and moved to Saint Louis for nursing school at what was then Deaconess Hospital, on the edge of Forest Park. The bonds created during our intense training years still exist. This week I’m going to lunch with four other women who call ourselves “the Deaconettes”. Now we are in our 70’s with a lot of our own histories, but we still crack ourselves up relating the same stories of our adventures, some of which involve bedpans and wheelchairs and fried chicken at McDermott’s tavern down the street.

    Having lived in Saint Louis most of my adult life I have formed special friendships that are solid and wonderful and absolutely soul affirming. My Anam Cara. (Irish for “soul friend”), Rose, is responsible for much of my spiritual journey and growth. She is the kind of friend who can call me on any BS that I may subject her to and I learn a lesson from it. 

    So many friends were made as I worked in various nursing settings. Katie entered and never left. We live apart, but every day we Wordle and text each other. Katie has been such a good friend over the years that I will never be able to fully return the favor. 

    When we left New Mexico, we left behind an amazing tribe of women who are absolutely committed to each other. When one is ill, or affected deeply and is sorrowful, the women form an instant support group. I try to make a pilgrimage to Santa Fe every year to reconnect with as many of them as possible. My friend, Sheila, and I have co-written a book. We have the kind of friendship where laughter is a predominant feature.

    Today I am going to lunch with two friends who worked with me at Saint Mary’s in the 80’s and 90’s. We weathered some rough times as we worked to improve the psychiatric and chemical dependency programs at three facilities. We have been tightly bonded ever since.

    What I know about friendships is that they are based in love, care, and laughter. I cannot imagine life without them.

  • Today’s blog

    lynnmurphymark

    Lynn Murphy Mark       

    Spiritual sustenance

    Every day since January 20, 2025 there is a good chance that I will be amazed, and not in a good way, by what is happening to our government. I don’t mean for this to be a political post, but I have to admit that I am shocked on a daily basis by 47’s dangerous tactics. I understand very well that the point is to perform so many inappropriate and dangerous actions that I will become immune to their implications and give up the fight. I will do everything I can to prevent that from happening to me.

    I can withstand the social pressures by keeping informed, supporting my causes, and supporting the people who are front and center on the front lines. I have been watching Jasmine Crockett lately as she raises her voice in defiance of the dismantling of our government as we know it. When she speaks, she is passionate and deadly serious, and does not appear to be afraid of any repercussions. Her kind of energy lifts me up and I pray for her safety as I pray for all who are standing up to the ugly power that is manifested every day.

    But what I need to guard even more than my political opinions is my spiritual stamina. My world view is such that I cannot separate day to day happenings from the broader vision that there is order and beauty surrounding us all. No matter how ugly it gets I believe that my own spiritual energy will sustain me. There is a song that Sweet Honey in the Rock sings and its words are meaningful to me:

    “I don’t know how the angels woke me up this morning soon

    I don’t know how the blood still runs through my veins

    I don’t know how I rate to run another day

    Standing in a rainstorm I believe.

    My God calls me in the morning dew

    The power of the universe knows my name

    Gave me a song to sing and sent me on my way

    I raise my voice for justice I believe.”

    When lies are flying through the airwaves, I rely on spiritual fitness to keep them from taking root in my brain. Spiritual values tell me that I will withstand the barrage of ignorant, cruel steps being taken to dismantle the USA as we know it. I will keep up with what’s happening, but will not be put down by it. 

    The Universe’s message to me is clear. I must do what I can to maintain my soul’s wellbeing. For me that takes several different approaches to preserve sanity. One of them is to look for moments of joy wherever they are to be found. Yesterday my grandson turned 6 and a few minutes of Facetime with the New Jersey peeps lifted me up. They are a constant source of wonder and happiness. Ted and Sarah in Los Angeles are so precious to me I can hardly stand it.

    Then, next week I will be joining a community choir. I have loved singing in a choir since I was a kid in college and I cannot fully explain how this is such a powerful source of sustenance. It is sheer joy to me to lift my voice in a group and send music into the ether. We will be preparing for a concert in June and I look forward to it. This choir is directed by a woman who is a musical force to be reckoned with. She calls forth the best musicianship we can give.

    My work, while seriously engaged in the world’s busyness and complexity, gives me hope each time I talk to a client or to my colleagues. We can make a difference, although there will be many challenges coming from Washington, DC. My spiritual activity in this case is to speak at as many churches as will have me on the biblical sayings that are very clear about what our responsibility is to immigrants. So far I have three engagements lined up. 

    The other day my gift to myself arrived. It is a complex paint by number set of the Grand Canyon. I have relied on the message from that magnificent canyon since I encountered it in the late 1960’s. It’s depth and majesty have taught me that “this too shall pass”, and the work of wind and ice and water will keep carving beautiful places into the earth. This will be happening regardless of our foolish human moves, and will long outlast the good and evil of our lives.

    So, 47 and your minions, try as you will you will not wear me down. You may shock me by your methods, but I believe that good will prevail. And that makes all the difference.