Search Results for: Madeline

I had an extraordinarily beautiful experience this morning, I hosted the first ever Mansion Meditation Group for residents who wished to learn how to meditate and incorporate this into their daily lives.

Of the dozen  residents I invited, five or six raised their hands immediately, which surprised me. We left the Activity Room and went to the Dining Room, which was quiet and private it. I can also use the Great Room.

We sat in a small circle around a dining room table, within easy earshot and reach of one another.

There is a trove of evidence showing that meditation can be very healthy for the elderly, it decreases blood pressure, helps the heart,  and supports mental health. The extreme elderly are under great pressure and stress, even if much of their traditional life has been taken from them.

Six residents signed up, including Sylvie and Madeline and Wayne (I didn’t ask the others for permission to use their names). I conducted a five minute guided meditation, using my Iphone as a timer.

I suggested to the residents that they first breathe in and out several times, then scan their body, then leave judgement and anxiety behind in so far as they could. I reminded them there is no failure in meditation, it is not a test, there is no messing up.

They can just follow their minds, and when they feel too distracted, just pay attention to their breathing again.

Our minds our minds, all we are trying to do, I said, is find a sweet and calm place inside of ourselves, lives are not simple. None of them had ever meditated in their lives, and only one, Sylvie, had even heard of it.

They took to it instantly, they closed and opened their eyes as suggested, breathed deeply, and then sat in quiet.  There was a marked calming about them, almost a white light I could see.

I could also see them settle into this peaceful and calming exercise. They were shocked by it, several said they had no idea what to expect, they all said they enjoyed it very much, they all asked me to come back regularly, they all wanted to sign up for my Meditation Group.

I feel I am approaching a level of trust with the residents, I don’t think they would have tried this if I was just a man walking through with a dog. We have been through a lot together. Red joined in, he is a viscerally spiritual creature, and lay down right next to us, and didn’t move.

This was meaningful for me beyond description, their lives are very difficult and full of stress and worry, even though they have voluntarily given up on so much responsibility. If there was ever a way to do good in a small and free way, this was it. Doing this felt as good as anything I can remember doing at the Mansion. I also love reading to them, I have some great stories for next week.

I meditated with them today, and thus felt a closeness that was  deeply spiritual. I appreciate taking what I have learned from my daily meditating and sharing it.

I am eager to return to the next Meditation Class, next Thursday and I also offered this to the staff and the aides. I doubt they will take the time to do it, but I hope they do. The people who need it the most seem the most reluctant to do it.

It has helped me more than I can say.

We had the best time in my weekly reading-to-the residents class, I had a full house in the Activity Room. They loved the Wonky Donkey and the adventures of Maud, the murderous 88-year-old from Sweden. I never saw them smile and laugh so much or listen so hard.

I was so elated I rushed over to the Battenkill Book Store and got a half-dozen rhyming and word play books for next week.

I also dropped a new idea on the residents that shocked but very much interested them once I sold and explained it a bit.

I asked them if anyone would be interested in taking a weekly meditation class that I would teach. There was a stunned silence, but Sylvie was the first to raise her hand and say “I would love to meditate but I don’t know how…”

I’m your man, I said, I’ve been taking meditation classes for years. Peggie said she would come, and Madeline said she heard someone tell her years ago that meditation was healthy.

I said I had talked to specialists in elderly care and they told me research has shown that people who meditate in assisted care live longer and are healthier and more peaceful.  I read three different studies on how meditation affects the elderly, and how nourishing and grounding it can be.

This opened a few eyes, and there were suddenly a bunch of questions. Most of them had never heard of meditation or had no real idea what it was. These are mostly rural farm people, meditation is not common around here.

They were full of questions, a good sign. What was it exactly? What did you have to learn? How hard was it? How long does it take? Did I do it with Red?

I said I would come over to the Mansion Thursday in the late morning after the daily exercise class. I said I would guide the meditation, which would be silent.  I would tech some breathing exercises and give them some idea of what to think when their minds took off on them in unexpected directions. Afterwards, we could all talk about it and see if we want to continue.

I thought the response was deep and genuine, and this surprised me as the residents are generally wary of undertaking new projects, they tire easily and sometimes struggle with attention spans and focus.

The right story gets them focused and wide-eyed and smiling, the Wonky Donkey was a big hit. I highly recommend it for people in assisted care.  I went out and got $60 worth of fun picture books, including Planet Chicken. The more I do this, the more I learn what the residents love.

I made a strong and sincere case for the idea that this would be helpful to them, there is a lot of research about meditation and people in elder care, it really is healthy and good for them.

I felt some were wary but trusting me, and I can’t wait to try it on Thursday. I love meditating, I told them it is something like a prayer, a way to look inward, feel peace and clarity, and stay focused. A trip inside your mind.

I’ll let you know, my work at the Mansion only deepens and brings me joy the longer I do it.

If you wish to support this work, you can contribute via Paypal, [email protected] or you can send a check to Jon Katz, Mansion Fund, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816, small donations are welcome as much as large ones.

And thanks. We are doing good.

The more I work with people at the Mansion, a Medicaid facility in Cambridge, N.Y., the more I see my role – our role – as filling the holes in their lives.  We have no miracles to offer, we can’t change the course of my life.

If my work at the Mansion and with the refugees has taught me anything, it is to think smaller and smaller, not bigger and bigger.

A lot of people have noticed our work with the Mansion, I am often asked to think about expanding this program, or to urge other people to replicate it in their towns, or to establish the Army Of Good as a federal non-profit, or to set up crowd-sourcing pages.

I feel more strongly every day to stand as we are, to stay small, to stay manageable. To choose our deeds well and knowingly.

A resident at the Mansion asked me to loan them $50 yesterday so they could go out with his family. I said no, we don’t loan money, we aren’t a bank. I think he was surprised. We fill the small holes in people’s loves. Socks, stationery, sweaters.

The refugee work, which has been difficult and often painful for me – the suspicion and hostility in the refugee world has stunned me. Helping is a battle, almost every time. Even helping.

That has been hard for me, I won’t lie about it. You can have the best intentions in the world, but there is great pain and hurt and anger out there, it is a great wall to break through. Sometimes I could break though, sometimes I just ran headlong into it. My thick skull is black and blue.

I’ll write about this more one day, but not now. It would harm helpless people.

This work has also taught me something about money. It is not about money, it is not about raising tons of money and distributing tons of money. Me – we – are way too small to alter the difficult reality of refugees in America with gobs of money. Money, I have learned, can be a poison. Sticking our thumbs in dikes can’t work.

We can do enormous good in many ways with small amounts of money. And we are. With young refugee children, with the Mansion residents.

Only government can do what needs to be done with the refugees, and used to be done.

The tragedy is that government, for the most part, has stopped doing that. It’s hard to see. It tore me up.

My focus now is on helping refugee children one at a time. And if the refugee groups won’t help, then I’ll work to set it up myself. We are close to getting a gifted refugee student  Eh K’ Pru Shee Wah, into a private school. If she succeeds, then I’ll seek another, and another and another and hopefully make this an annual and continuous work.

I can’t think of a better way to change lives.

I am asking the schools to undertake the fund-raising and offer generous scholarships, we can help if we like, but we won’t be bearing the brunt of this work. If the schools want diversity, and they say they do, then they will have to pay up, and not simply rely on others. I can help find the students.

I am also working to team up with parents and kids within the private schools. There is tremendous support for this idea, and I think this is the path for me an for the Army Of Good that will change lives in a profound but realistic way. It isn’t about money, it’s about creativity, as always.

But it is the Mansion that has provided the best model and inspiration for me, day after day.

Small acts of great kindness. Filling the holes, not knocking down the house. We do the best than we can for as long as we can. I tell people to think small, go low. It is the small things of life they most need – letters, music, movies, sweaters. They will need a lot of new clothes when the warm weather comes in a few weeks.

(Picking up Chinese Food for the Mansion aides today)

I am so grateful to the Mansion for letting me do this work and supporting me.

Yesterday, a book for Matt. Watercolor pencils and a pad for Tim. A  wristwatch for Art, and a Christian video. Today, a stuffed dog for Katherine, who seems lonely at times, and who came to the Mansion with little. Some socks and some sneakers. A new wristwatch for Peggie, a stuffed dog for Ruth. Some photo books for the Activity room, some stamps for Sylvie (who said, for the first time ever, that she thought she had enough stamps for this week!) Underpants for T—-, soap and shampoo for the bathrooms. Valentine’s Day cards and gifts.

A new TV for the Great Room, and a bunch of DVD’s.

Today, I spent $117 to bring Chinese food to the Mansion aides, who worked so hard and patiently during their month-long evacuation ordeal. A small thing to me, a big thing to them. It was a joy to see.

I love this work and am deeply grateful for your support, none of this would be possible with you. I think we are working on scale now. If you wish to help me,  you can donate via Paypal, [email protected] The Mansion Fund. Or you can send a check to Jon Katz, Mansion Fund, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. All donations help, those $5 bills lift my heart right up.

New Mansion resident list:  Winnie, Ellen, Matt, Mary, Gerry, Sylvie, Alice, Jean, Madeline, Helen, Barbara, Alanna, Linda, Peggie, Dottie, Tim, Art, Wayne, Kathryn, Ruth.

They love getting letters, but I can’t promise they can respond, and it would be inappropriate for me to ask, that might feel like pressure to them.

I was unaware of the healing powers of sharing until I began therapy work with my dogs, and this led me to hospice work, and work with the very needy refugees, and my deep and rich work at the Mansion Assisted Care Facility.

I have always understood that doing good does not make me good, or superior to anyone. It is inherently selfish, I do it because it feels good, and because it heals me and leads me closer to the spiritual life I have always wanted.

I tell my friends in distress that there is nothing better that they can to feel better than to share with others. According to the Kabbalah, everything we do in the world – whether it’s work or family or help for the poor – can be infused with a yearning for transformation and fulfillment. This is what I’ve discovered with my small acts of great kindness.

This is, I believe, what defines a truly spiritual person, and this is one of the measures by which my actions and beliefs can be understood, by me and by others. My physical and outward actions are tied to my soul.

I felt this strongly today when I went to the Mansion to read to the residents there. I brought Kate a pair of warm flannel pajamas, I saw she has few warm clothes. Last week, I brought her a beautiful afghan to keep her warm, both sent me by soldiers in the Army Of Good.  I groan a bit at some of the things people send me,  there are boxes all over the place, but most of the time I eventually find a need for it.

Kate loves to see Red and we try to visit every few days. She loves her flannel pajamas and afghan and she loves to see Red.

I brought Tim, recovering from his leg amputation, a box of watercolor pencils and a big pad for him to draw on, he has been wanting this for a long time. I brought Matt, a passionate reader with eye trouble, a large print John Clancy book.

Tomorrow, I’m bringing Chinese food to everyone on the Mansion staff, to honor their very hard work during the recent Mansion crisis.

Today, I read to a dozen residents, one a book of short stories for the elderly. I also had some great fun with a surprising book, a novel called An Elderly Lady Is Up To No Good by Helene  Tursten. The book is quite different from the usual fare the residents read – gentle, sometimes saccharin stories, very safe and mild. I wanted to shock and stimulate them a bit, get them to think.

The novel, a very funny international best seller, is about an irascible 88-year-0ld woman with no family, no friends, and no qualms about eliminating bad people who commit evil, and the gumption to do it. Maud lives in Sweden and the book details her sometimes murderous adventures, including her close friendship with two police detectives who never suspect her because she is just an old lady.

The book is light, and full of laughs. There are also a few bodies.

There are five short stories in the book, and I asked the residents if they wanted me to read it. They sure did. We entered into a sweet and mystical conspiracy together, their eyes lit up in wonder at the idea that an 88-year-old woman living alone could be so conniving and powerful.

I wanted to read a story that showed the elderly – especially older women – in a position of power, for once. They were very interested. People who have so little power over their lives now were transfixed by the adventures of Maud and her audacity.

I saw those wide and eager eyes and plunged in, I read the first half of one story, and promised to read next week to finish it. I’ve never read anything that so many people at the Mansion paid rapt attention to. “You better come back next week to finish this story,” said Madeline. I will.

Everyone single one of the people sitting in a circle around me asked me to stay today to finish the story, they wanted to know everything about Maud. But I stuck to my guns and said I would be back on Tuesday to finish the story, and perhaps read another one.

I didn’t see one tired face or witness a yawn. They followed every word.

I then read another story from a book I found online called A Loving Voice: A Caregiver’s Book Of Read-Aloud Stories For the Elderly. The stories are short and engaging and the residents ask for them and talk about them. They loved “Some Games My Mother Played,” by Michael Dirda. It was about a mother who played hilarious jokes on her twelve children and who won sewing machines for each of her daughters in various contests.

There was a lot of laughter. It is a precious thing for me to read to the residents. I love doing it, I love making that connection with them. They love to be read to, it is calming and grounding for them. It is an immensely satisfying thing to do.

I know that one or two of the residents can’t follow my stories, but they sit back and listen to my words, it comforts them.

And I thought again about the Kabbalah, which teaches that the highest level of striving is for transformation – for turning the desire to receive for myself  alone into the desire to receive for the purpose of sharing.

Many of you have been so kind as to write to me about the transformation you see in me in recent years. If that is true, this is what it is about,  I believe, this idea of sharing for others.

And it has just begun, I have so far to go. It is, for me, the path to true spirituality, even if I understand I will never quite get there.

Today, I got the new Mansion Residents list for those of who are meaning to write letters to the residents, which they dearly love to receive. you can write them c/o The Mansion 11 S. Union Avenue, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816.

Please don’t write or message me to ask if the residents have received your mail or plan to answer. I can’t keep track of that, and I’m also not allowed to, it is a violation of their privacy The only reward here is in the doing. I don’t wish to put any kind of pressure on the residents, they answer the letters if they can. They very much enjoy getting them reading them, but many are impaired and can’t respond.

Our letters program has gone a long way towards alleviating the feelings of many of the residents that they have been forgotten or left behind.

Here is the list of Mansion residents who wish to receive messages as of 2/18/19. Winnie, Ellen, Matt, Mary, Gerry, Sylvie, Alice, Jean, Madeline, Helen, Barbara, Alanna, Linda, Peggie, Dottie, Tim, Art, Wayne, Kate, Ruth.

If you care to contribute to my Mansion Fund, you can donate via Paypal, [email protected] or by check: Jon Katz, Mansion Fund, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. Thanks.

The Mansion refugee return has been delayed by another day (or possibly two). A number of small problems were found at the Mansion, and the staff doesn’t want the health department to come until everything is in perfect condition.

The rooms look great to me and so do the hallways and carpets, but there is a lot of small stuff I can’t see and wouldn’t recognize. I am a bit at wit’s end to figure out how to cheer the displaced residents up, I made an emergency trip to Battenkill Books and then the dollar store – $87 – for one more large print book, a coloring pad, some color pencils, so bird bags, DVD’s, a couple of puzzles, three enchanting kaleidoscopes, some “rescue” creatures in a box, including an abominable snow man.

I know they love getting presents, and tonight everyone will get a small, bright or funny gift. I can’t do much better than that. I have two ghost stories to tell them also.

This afternoon, I read to the few residents of the Mansion, told ghost and flying saucer saucers, read poems and talked about death and the supernatural. They love these stories, and we had the most lively talk about whether there are ghosts or not, or whether UFO’s exist.

Madeline thanked me, “you stirred our imagination, and boy, do we need that.” Great thing to hear. She does not believe in ghosts or “any of that stuff.”

Honestly, I think just being there and telling stories is probably one of the best things I can do. I gave the Mansion staff $40 to arrange for a pizza night for themselves and the residents, they are working around the clock, and are so visibly drained. At least they won’t have to cook.

What matters most at the Danforth is showing up, but I admit to being worn thin trying to come up with new things. I won’t quit on them, I will keep at it, if they ever needed some cheering up, it is tonight.

Maria is coming with me to the Danforth tonight, I am sure they are deeply frustrated and discouraged at one more delay. The staff is saying it’s “day by day,” and very close, I accept that, it just calls for great patience and stamina, two things in short supply for the advanced elderly.

I get to go home at night in my wonderful farmhouse and sleep next to my wonderful wife.