Code Lavender: taking care of each other
“The charitable say in effect, 'I seem to have more than I need and you seem to have less than you need. I would like to share my excess with you.' Fine, if my excess is tangible, money or goods, and fine if not, for I learned that to be charitable with gestures and words can bring enormous joy and repair injured feelings.”
― Maya Angelou, Letter to My Daughter
In this darkest time of the year, there is warmth, light, and loss. In the last two weeks, I have been witness to all of these. Many among us need to be held just now—those in crisis and those who surround them: the caretakers, the witnesses, the family, the community. When one person is in crisis, we are all in crisis and are called upon to support one another, to communicate care through act and word.
A friend told me the story of a bundled and starlit holiday evening walk cut short when a car slid off of the road and into a tree. My friend slipped her shaking fingers out of her gloves to dial 911. The next day, my friend called her sister and cried and cried. Her sister, a nurse, knew what to do: listen and support. She said, “this is a Code Lavender.” Code Lavender comes out of the Cleveland Clinic to support their staff and “provides holistic rapid response to emotionally stressful events…in an effort to prevent nurses from experiencing long-term mental/emotional trauma.”
Nurses and other first responders witness unimaginable trauma daily. This team approach offers a bit of help—taking care of the caretakers.
But what about my friend on her holiday walk? Or the children who witness their father have a stroke during Trivial Pursuit on New Year’s Eve? Or the long-time caregiver who loses his partner after many years only to lose his job a month later? What about the friend who administers CPR to a stranger on her dog walk? Or the children who lose their mother to mental illness? What about all of us who may be taking care of many, holding the space for tears, preparing dinners to deliver, picking up friends’ children from school, running errands, tying up the loose threads from others’ lives.
We all need a Code Lavender once in a while; we all need to be held by others. We tend to focus on the individual in crisis. What if there is no individual, but only a radiating out of connection, so any one of us impacts all of us? Those who bear witness as a friend, stranger, helper, family member, are also in crisis and must be held.
I love Maya Angelou’s definition of charity above. When we have a little extra, give it away. I am fortunate at this moment to have something to give: time, ideas, organizing, a hug, a walk in the sun, a meal, running an errand. There have been times when the kids were young or my dad was sick that I was completely depleted. I remember. It’s like life is a long relay race; sometimes we have to pass the baton, tag out, rest.
This week, we practice Code Lavender, we take stock of ourselves and of one another and offer support to the supporters.
CHECK IN: First, we check in on our own bandwidth. Ask, am I OK? Do I have enough to give? In just the way that we put on our own oxygen mask before helping others, check in with yourself. Be honest.
IF YES: If we have a little extra time, food, money, energy, we have something to give.
OFFER HELP: “I’m OK right now. Here’s my hand. Take hold and I will pull you up.”