Don't You Pee on St. Francis!

At the crack of dawn, I am the crazy woman dashing across the grass in my pajamas, shouting and clapping my hands: "No! clap No! clap Don't you pee on St. Francis!"

St. Francis is their favorite target. The Boston terrier hits his robes; the boxer aims for the head and in moments poor St. Francis is sullied in yellow. It's bad enough the man had (as most Catholic saints did) a ghastly end to his short life, but to suffer this indignity in statue form in 2016 is all too much. I scold the dogs but I only get the Jeeze, what's wrong with her look as they trot off together for their morning run in the field.

Friends more doggier than I tell me not to take offense, that indeed dogs pee in places they claim as their own, places they are fond of, similar to when we hit the Like button when something captures our fancy on Facebook.  The problem for me is that St. Francis is in my holy healing garden, the one I created for myself as part of being "whole" and healing from my SCAD. It's mine! (I won't tell you what my friend then suggested I do to keep the dogs away). 

I put St. Francis there because I have always loved his prayer. The jury is out on where the words actually came from but it's still beautiful and the statue is a symbol of it for me:

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace. 

Where there is hatred, let me sow love; 

where there is injury, pardon; 

where there is doubt, faith; 

where there is despair, hope; 

where there is darkness, light; 

where there is sadness, joy.

O, Divine Master, grant that I may not so much 

seek to be consoled as to console; 

to be understood as to understand; 

to be loved as to love; 

For it is in giving that we receive; 

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; 

it is in dying that we are born again to eternal life.

To me, this prayer expresses the highest ideas found in Christianity and even Buddhism, Judaism and many other forms of spirituality. The line "make me an instrument of your peace" is one I have latched on to most as part of my thriving after SCAD  and I have done so in a way that may, at first, seem opposite to the prayer's central message. 

In order to be an instrument of peace in the world, I believe you have to be at peace with yourself first, especially if you intend to go on to do all those grand things that are listed in the prayer. To get to a place of peace and healing  -- and to continue to thrive there -- I use the prayer selfishly. Sorry - there it is. I said it. Selfish.  That is because the very first step in healing and thriving -- before you can give to others -- is compassion for self.

There is a lot of guilt and doubt following a SCAD. There may be guilt that you are letting your loved ones down. There may be fear that is holding you back from activities or your goals, and you may doubt your body. 

But in order to heal, you need to have compassion for yourself. And you need to be the instrument of peace to yourself first before being able to give back to others. Buddhism speaks to practicing nonviolence and compassion - always - to pay attention to your thoughts and actions so that you do not bring any form of violence toward yourself or others. To me, "violence" toward self includes putting yourself down or not listening to what you need.

Since my SCAD I often bring my mind back to the question "Am I being an instrument of peace to myself?" Am I being compassionate to myself right now? Common questions I run through: Do I need to rest? Do I need to exercise? Am I hungry? Do I want to do this, be here, go there, listen to this, watch that, think this thought? 

If you are used to always giving to others, surviving a SCAD has now given you the opportunity to listen to your heart. And your heart knows what it wants.

The Prayer of St. Francis is full of hope, light, and joy based on being an instrument of peace. That's a pretty good deal! Why not give yourself that gift first?  For me, it has been essential to do so before I could go forward. 

Our hearts broke. Nobody knows why. Considering the idiopathic category that SCAD is currently in, it takes a lot of trust, pardoning of our bodies, and acceptance of self to reach peace.  

With the dog indignities, not to mention the rain storms, mud splatters, and the two feet of snow I left him under last winter, my St. Francis statue has endured a lot.  But I am grateful to have him standing out there in my holy ("wholy") garden as a reminder of tuning myself to be an instrument of peace.