Vulnerability

Warrior in the Direction of the Heart's Tenderness

Vulnerability

Written 6.6.21 © Karrie Kirchner

This is how I feel.

Hot. Sweaty.

Heavy. Present. Unseen.

Bogged down with armor. 

Should I be so soft?

My heart always answers, “YES.”

I was born in the city of Hartford.

I choose to live a heart-led life.

I am acting out the pillars of the Heart.

I am an intuitive empath.  What I witness hurts me.  Through my eyes, my heart is injured in so many ways - the physical pain I sense in others.  Where is the heart of healthcare?  I am suffering as a result of what I witness.  I care for others.  My feelings matter.  You must acknowledge what I am communicating to you.

I choose NOT to be clinical.  I still matter.

For many years, working in the ER was a source of pride - my friends and I gather every day, hour, minute, second in our community to care for whoever crosses the threshold.

We all take place in the best and worst of humanity.

For a long time being the one who is turned to when help is needed emergently grounded me.  I recognize my privilege and chose to serve my community in healthcare.

I love my job. I deeply love my coworkers - and many have become friends.  Many I consider my adoptive family.  You all know me in some ways more intimately than my blood family. 

When I cross the threshold of our community hospital in uniform, I commit to giving my heart’s attention to our patients.  

They are who we serve.

We also sweep our own feelings away so we can be present to our patients. We table what is going on in our inner worlds to heal the outside world.  We tell ourselves, “I’ll have time for that later.”  We pass our coworkers in the hall while we “live the dream.”

I suffer seeing, witnessing suffering.  I suffer when our patients are treated with jaded insensitivity by burned out staff. I suffer when I see systemic injustice played out before my eyes. 

My soul is weary. I do not wish to witness this anymore. 

I am wounded by my job.

I have asked for help.

I have stuffed my need for help down.  

Our culture of “essential”

What does it mean?

What does it mean to work in medicine?

Essential does not sufficiently imply or address the emotional toll of repeated trauma/Trauma 

I consider myself a Peaceful Warrior.

I have shown up.

To the detriment of my mental and physical health.

I have informed everyone I can inform based on the corporate chain of command.

Should I have to armour myself up like this to enter my place of employment?

There was a time when I appreciated the doses of reality that come fast and furious through our doors.  It is time for this pain to be named, recognized, addressed and honored. 

Bibliography

• Fashion magazines - petal border and lips

• Military magazine unknown issue

• Thank you card from Kelly Bay

Other Notes that may be helpful in understanding Karrie

Identity/Aside: (public service as identity as a family - father was police officer, mother librarian)

My life’s current events:

Part time job in healthcare

Awareness in my body, crippling anxiety, reconciling “essential employee” is not part of my identity any more. 

Deep prayer and discernment and therapy regarding my situation.

Identfication as a warrior - imprinted knowledge, born with this knowing

Roman catholic chosen confirmation name = Joan because it was the first female saint I could think of

Peaceful Warrior Monk Spirit Guide

This is what I wrote stream of consciousness to accompany my art, feelings, process, prayer - to get to the HEART of my matter.  

I believe I can hold Spiritual Direction Sessions with each work of art.  It’s all a conversation.