Living in the Oceanic Soul: this chaplain’s story

I’ve heard the call from the deep ocean of my soul many times. The first call to which I responded sounded when I was 16 years old, when I put a pen to a blank journal page. I began to explore. What I found was frightening because of the pain, but also deeply healing. At the beginning of a writing session, I would rant on paper and by the end I was soothed by words of optimism and encouragement that came from some undiscovered part of myself. And so, the study of my depths began.

Making art is another method by which I submerge below the open ocean of existence to go to the deep sea of my soul. I taught myself to draw when I was four, and when I was a teenager, I began to develop compositions from imagination. My father, the source and salve for so much pain, bought art supplies for me and took me to classes. The summer I was twenty, I sat at a large canvas and developed a style which continues to be a signature of my soul today.

Perhaps it’s not surprising that at midlife, the call to the deep ocean of my soul lured me like a siren to a brand-new career, lifestyle, and vision. After four years of education, training, and certification, I am a professional chaplain. My job is to meet with people to assess their spiritual needs, and when they are receptive, to help guide them to the deep ocean of their souls. The education, training, and certification process is absolutely necessary to do this job responsibly. A guide must know the way, after all.

The less frequent but critically important part of my job that most people associate with chaplaincy is tending to people’s dying processes. In a hospital setting, this can happen in many ways, but typically when someone is dying the staff knows that it is imminent. In these cases, folks from my department are called to assess patient and family needs spiritually, emotionally, and religiously. The “final rite” or “prayers for the dying” are common vernacular for interventions at end-of-life. Other interventions are life-review, grief support, and education about the physical dying process. Make no mistake: dying is hallowed ground, and it is also a bodily experience to endure.

Each death is unique and holy, just like our souls. Each dying process is similar to others, yet specific to the physical body of the person who is expiring. Each family grieves differently, yet there are strong themes and similarities in how they cope with the events. Death, like life, is a paradox of individual and universal.

In our deaths, our bodies are shed. Only souls remain.

As a person who plumbs the depths of soul, and one who accompanies others while they explore their own, I can say one thing for certain- each person is called to dive beneath the waves and swim to the rich and endless expanse of Mystery. Take a guide, like a chaplain, clergy, spiritual counselor, or wise friend when needed. And go. The open shallows where we live day to day will be there when we get back. When we return, we will understand our Selves better. We will know how to live with Soul.