By: Marie Curry
My work and passion center on health equity and racial health disparities. It’s a difficult time to be working in this space. I give myself a pep talk every morning about moving forward, remaining hopeful, encouraging incremental progress, and facing the challenges. But how do I replenish my spirit?
Lately, I remind myself that I am divine, a child of God, created in God‘s image. I say to myself, “I am an instrument of love.” Sometimes I think I should say “I am an instrument of God‘s love.” But that feels redundant to me. What other kind of love is there?
Centering love has lead me to change the way I think about the workplace culture of productivity. This shift in thinking is no small undertaking. I was raised by depression era parents, in a culture of scarcity. Striving, ambition, achievement are baked into my being. And they have served me well. I have survived and thrived and achieved significant markers of success. Tempering those cultural norms, or leaving them behind altogether, is frightening. Yet, as I look at the world around me, I don’t see those cultural norms serving my community and my world. They no longer reflect what I value, if they ever really did.
What does leaving them behind look like?
I value rest and self care, for me and for others. I don’t work to the point of making myself sick. And I no longer show up at work when I am sick.
I seek grace from colleagues when I have decided that postponing a meeting or pushing a deadline is better than working past midnight to complete a task that is not an emergency. I give grace to my colleagues when they seek the same from me. I remember that we are all conscientious and doing our best in demanding jobs.
Most importantly, I have learned to be flexible with my coworkers, particularly those who report to me. When they are pulled away by health or family or other pressing matters, causing a disruption in my expectations, I try to breathe through my often-initial panic reaction: How will I meet the DEADLINE? How will this failure reflect on ME? I pause and make space to find a path through that respects all our needs, avoiding the false dichotomy of winning and losing. (And I try to learn and grow from the instances when I over react, miss the mark, and fail to manifest calm equanimity.)
Pausing, listening, and making space for the Spirit to reveal a way — I ask, is this what it is to be an instrument of (God’s) love?