I submitted an application to be a speaker at the Alzheimer Society of Nova Scotia's conference in October, hoping that speaking on "the spirituality of Alzheimer's" would be of interest to them.
A couple of weeks ago, I met the co-ordinator of the education programs at the local support group meeting and she told me unofficially that I was going to be asked to speak. This afternoon, the woman coordinating the conference called me.
Ultimately what she wants is what I want to talk about but it's not based on my idea of "spirituality". I don't think she knows what I mean by that (which means it wasn't clear in my pitch) but it also could be a recoil from the word "spirituality". I suppose since I'm not a minister or chaplain or theological PhD, I don't have the cred to talk spirituality. This is a bit of a shock -- or reality check? -- to me.
However, what she wants is my last paragraph and that I can do. It's about the 3 essential elements: the power of the word Love; the underutilization of Music; and the myth of aggression (she objected to my use of myth). I can see if I can work my "spirit" stuff into it through the back door but then again, maybe that's not really my message. But somehow I can't see that.
Right now I'm not seeing much of anything. I get flustered so easily and since I'm at work, I can't walk the dog or do Sun Salutations to bring myself back into balance. I did make notes of our phone conversation, though, so I can run all this by my mother, the World's Best Sounding Board; and because I'm at work, I couldn't really hash it all out with this woman so we're talking again Thursday afternoon. My confidence will be back and I'll have an outline for her based on what she wants.
Plus: I found out my presentation time is one hour. 45 minutes to present then a Q & A. All of a sudden, that seems like a lot of time.
Yet here is what has me feeling discombobulated: It's not her "rejecting" my original premise of the spirituality but from what comes rushing back when I get talking about my caregiving experience. You'd think the power of my reaction would have lessened in the four years since Dad died but talking about it brings it all back with such a rush of emotions -- including anxiety, frustration and guilt.
Now I'm worried I can't talk about it. I'm worried I gave this woman the impression I can't be "professional" about my experience. Perhaps "spirituality" kept it at arm's length but then again, talking at a conference will be enough arm's length to keep me professional, not personal.
Even though it's my personal experience she's really interested in. Right now, the working title of my presentation is "If Only I Knew Then What I Know Now: One Family's Caregiving Experience". I hate using that cliche but maybe something better will occur to. It is accurate, though. The focus of my presentation will be two-fold: lessons learned, and the family perspective.
Lest you think this was a negative conversation that has brought me down and made me question doing this, what is best -- and what I was hoping for -- is her offer to work with me on this to create the presentation both of us (the other half of "us" being the Alzheimer Society) will be proud of. I want to make a difference, I want to help, I want to create some kind of positive outcome from my father's suffering. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen. Mum and I actually had been hashing out other words than "spirituality" so maybe stepping away from that and finding a new focus is what is needed; maybe I'm too stuck on one idea that isn't the best one.
My brain is good with percolating ideas so I just have to let go, this instant, and trust in the process that always works for me.
