Los Angeles Jewish Home's Blog
Monday, December 24, 2012
Light increases — Letter from the Rabbi
Talking with residents throughout the beautiful festival of Chanukah this year gave me a lot to think about. Remember how we light the lights on the menorah: one the first night, two the second, and so on till all eight lights are burning on the eighth night. What starts out as single point of light ends as a glorious display. Night by night, light increases.
So one of the questions I have been raising with residents is whether our light – the light that shines within us – increases as time goes on. I focused particularly on wisdom. As every resident knows, our memory certainly doesn’t improve with passing years, but wisdom is something that may live on within us quite independently of memory.
Some people said that experience made them wiser. As the years pass, we live through so many experiences, for good and for bad; and of course we all make mistakes, which – in theory – we learn from. One resident joked that she is allowed to make the same mistake twice, but twice is the limit! Another said that she always tries to ask herself: what did I learn from that mistake?
I think she’s right. Experience teaches us to make better decisions in how we live our lives only if we can reflect on what we have been through. For that, we need to know ourselves and what is really important for us. If we don’t, we can re-live patterns that don’t help us at all. We grow in wisdom when experience teaches us to understand ourselves and the world around us; that way, we are more able to make judgments that are good and healthy.
When we see our own goodness and also our own failings, and recognize these in others too, we are better able to face life’s challenges without being filled with negativity. It is my belief that love and compassion for ourselves and for all humanity are major elements in wisdom; indeed they are a basis for the biblical injunction to "Love your neighbor as yourself".
As we talked of the increase in light with the passing years, many residents felt that they were more compassionate than they used to be. Surely that compassion arises out of the knowledge that we human beings all share a certain frailty, all are struggling to do the best we can, and none of us can get it right all the time. Isn’t it true that a wise person recognizes and appreciates that shared humanity?
A growing wisdom many bring a deeper sense of what is important to us. It is interesting that, for many of us, our priorities change during our lifetimes. It is not, I think, just because circumstances change: it is also because we change. When residents talk of what is important to them now, they focus frequently on relationships and, most of all, family.
I was fascinated when one resident talked about the importance of compromise. What she meant was that we can’t always have things just as we want. That is true throughout our lives, but comes to the fore particularly as we encounter new situations, such as aging and disability. If you stick to your old view of how things ought to be, you get nowhere. In the words of one person, a lady who had spent years in Auschwitz: "You have to live life as it is, and thank God every day for your life and blessings". This was a theme for several people, and some noted that not every resident is able to adjust to life as it is.
I asked one person, whom I have known since the time she was still walking with ease, how she had managed her transition to having to use a wheelchair. I knew she would give me a thoughtful response; in fact what she said brought tears to my eyes. She said: "I had to face the truth – the truth of my situation. Once I could do that, the rest was easy." She was putting into words what so many residents know, reminding us that wisdom also involves courage – the courage to shine light on our lives and our situations, and face truths we might prefer to ignore.
So one of the questions I have been raising with residents is whether our light – the light that shines within us – increases as time goes on. I focused particularly on wisdom. As every resident knows, our memory certainly doesn’t improve with passing years, but wisdom is something that may live on within us quite independently of memory.
Some people said that experience made them wiser. As the years pass, we live through so many experiences, for good and for bad; and of course we all make mistakes, which – in theory – we learn from. One resident joked that she is allowed to make the same mistake twice, but twice is the limit! Another said that she always tries to ask herself: what did I learn from that mistake?
I think she’s right. Experience teaches us to make better decisions in how we live our lives only if we can reflect on what we have been through. For that, we need to know ourselves and what is really important for us. If we don’t, we can re-live patterns that don’t help us at all. We grow in wisdom when experience teaches us to understand ourselves and the world around us; that way, we are more able to make judgments that are good and healthy.
When we see our own goodness and also our own failings, and recognize these in others too, we are better able to face life’s challenges without being filled with negativity. It is my belief that love and compassion for ourselves and for all humanity are major elements in wisdom; indeed they are a basis for the biblical injunction to "Love your neighbor as yourself".
As we talked of the increase in light with the passing years, many residents felt that they were more compassionate than they used to be. Surely that compassion arises out of the knowledge that we human beings all share a certain frailty, all are struggling to do the best we can, and none of us can get it right all the time. Isn’t it true that a wise person recognizes and appreciates that shared humanity?
A growing wisdom many bring a deeper sense of what is important to us. It is interesting that, for many of us, our priorities change during our lifetimes. It is not, I think, just because circumstances change: it is also because we change. When residents talk of what is important to them now, they focus frequently on relationships and, most of all, family.
I was fascinated when one resident talked about the importance of compromise. What she meant was that we can’t always have things just as we want. That is true throughout our lives, but comes to the fore particularly as we encounter new situations, such as aging and disability. If you stick to your old view of how things ought to be, you get nowhere. In the words of one person, a lady who had spent years in Auschwitz: "You have to live life as it is, and thank God every day for your life and blessings". This was a theme for several people, and some noted that not every resident is able to adjust to life as it is.
I asked one person, whom I have known since the time she was still walking with ease, how she had managed her transition to having to use a wheelchair. I knew she would give me a thoughtful response; in fact what she said brought tears to my eyes. She said: "I had to face the truth – the truth of my situation. Once I could do that, the rest was easy." She was putting into words what so many residents know, reminding us that wisdom also involves courage – the courage to shine light on our lives and our situations, and face truths we might prefer to ignore.
Labels: Chanukah, Elman, For the Spirit, Hanukkah, Letter from the Rabbi, Wisdom
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Luck
By Ellis Simon, 88
Jewish Home Resident
I don't know why, but I am sitting here thinking how lucky I am. I have a family that loves me, I have reached the age of 87 years old. Sure I have my aches and pains now and then, and sure I worry once and a while, but G-d has been good to me. I have many friends, I keep very active, I am very upbeat, and I love life.
I get up every morning and look forward to another day. I know I am going to eat three meals each day, and I know I have a place to lay my head every night. There are people here that are paid just to figure out how to keep me healthy and happy. There are people here that are paid just to figure out how to keep me active. There are people here that are paid just to see that I get three meals a day. There are people here that are paid just to listen to my concerns, and to help me get rid of those concerns. There are people here that are paid just to keep me healthy, and there are people here that are paid just to take care of any problems with maintenance and housekeeping of my living quarters. Also there are people here that are paid, and even some who volunteer, to provide transportation just so that I may shop, go to my doctor's office, or go out for some enjoyment.
So next time someone accidentally bumps you with their walker, or blocks your way, or disagrees with something you said, take it with a grain of salt. Just smile and remember how lucky you really are.
Jewish Home Resident
I don't know why, but I am sitting here thinking how lucky I am. I have a family that loves me, I have reached the age of 87 years old. Sure I have my aches and pains now and then, and sure I worry once and a while, but G-d has been good to me. I have many friends, I keep very active, I am very upbeat, and I love life.
I get up every morning and look forward to another day. I know I am going to eat three meals each day, and I know I have a place to lay my head every night. There are people here that are paid just to figure out how to keep me healthy and happy. There are people here that are paid just to figure out how to keep me active. There are people here that are paid just to see that I get three meals a day. There are people here that are paid just to listen to my concerns, and to help me get rid of those concerns. There are people here that are paid just to keep me healthy, and there are people here that are paid just to take care of any problems with maintenance and housekeeping of my living quarters. Also there are people here that are paid, and even some who volunteer, to provide transportation just so that I may shop, go to my doctor's office, or go out for some enjoyment.
So next time someone accidentally bumps you with their walker, or blocks your way, or disagrees with something you said, take it with a grain of salt. Just smile and remember how lucky you really are.
Labels: Aging, For the Spirit, Luck, Lucky, Positive Outlook, Senior Living, Simon
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Tapping the Power of Music — Part II
By Nancy Sokoler Steiner
Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.
~Victor Hugo
One of music's most striking powers can be seen in its impact on individuals with Alzheimer's and other forms of dementia. A dramatic example of this effect is found on a viral YouTube video featuring an elderly Alzheimer's patient named Henry. At first, Henry is slumped over in his chair, his head bent forward, his speech condensed. Then an aide gives him an iPod. The moment Henry starts listening, he becomes instantly animated: his face lights up and he begins to move his arms and legs. After his headphones are removed, he talks about his love of jazz, and sings lyrics from a favorite song.
Later in the same video, neurologist and author Oliver Sacks comments on Henry's response. "In some sense, Henry is restored to himself," says Sacks. "He remembered who he is and has reacquired his identity for a while through the power of music."
While music doesn't always evoke reactions as extreme as Henry's, it does seem to engage even the most unresponsive of individuals. That is one reason music plays a major role in the Los Angeles Jewish Home's skilled nursing and dementia care.
Susan Leitch, community manager of the Goldenberg·Ziman Special Care Center and Max Factor Family Foundation Building, notes that music is played throughout the day, and carefully chosen to set the tone and help cue residents. For example, calm, relaxing music is played in the evening to signal winding down of the day.
Music is also used more formally in music therapy sessions for skilled nursing and dementia care residents. Music therapist Cindy McGee facilitates sessions twice a week. These sessions, she says, are not sing-alongs; they are therapeutic interventions with specific goals.
One goal, called reality orientation, aims to bring participants who may not be aware of their surroundings into the present moment. Another is to aid recall and reminiscence by evoking thoughts and memories associated with the music.
During music therapy, says McGee, "participants will mention the name of a relative or tell a story they normally can't remember. It allows them to connect to something outside themselves."
As a recent session, McGee played Somewhere Over the Rainbow, and residents sang along. She asked them who sang the song, and passed around a photo of the Wizard of Oz cast. After several of them pointed to Dorothy, McGee asked them to name the movie.
"What would you ask the Wizard for?" she later queried the group.
"Good health," answered one.
"A good looking guy," said another.
Whether in the background or in a formal setting, music evokes a response. That response may be as subtle as the tapping of a foot, as dramatic as the transformation of YouTube's Henry, or as familiar as the desire for romance.
The beauty of music, it seems, is it's universal appeal. As Susan Leitch says, "Music involves everyone. It doesn't matter what level of function you're at."
Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.
~Victor Hugo
One of music's most striking powers can be seen in its impact on individuals with Alzheimer's and other forms of dementia. A dramatic example of this effect is found on a viral YouTube video featuring an elderly Alzheimer's patient named Henry. At first, Henry is slumped over in his chair, his head bent forward, his speech condensed. Then an aide gives him an iPod. The moment Henry starts listening, he becomes instantly animated: his face lights up and he begins to move his arms and legs. After his headphones are removed, he talks about his love of jazz, and sings lyrics from a favorite song.
Later in the same video, neurologist and author Oliver Sacks comments on Henry's response. "In some sense, Henry is restored to himself," says Sacks. "He remembered who he is and has reacquired his identity for a while through the power of music."
While music doesn't always evoke reactions as extreme as Henry's, it does seem to engage even the most unresponsive of individuals. That is one reason music plays a major role in the Los Angeles Jewish Home's skilled nursing and dementia care.
Susan Leitch, community manager of the Goldenberg·Ziman Special Care Center and Max Factor Family Foundation Building, notes that music is played throughout the day, and carefully chosen to set the tone and help cue residents. For example, calm, relaxing music is played in the evening to signal winding down of the day.
Music is also used more formally in music therapy sessions for skilled nursing and dementia care residents. Music therapist Cindy McGee facilitates sessions twice a week. These sessions, she says, are not sing-alongs; they are therapeutic interventions with specific goals.
One goal, called reality orientation, aims to bring participants who may not be aware of their surroundings into the present moment. Another is to aid recall and reminiscence by evoking thoughts and memories associated with the music.
During music therapy, says McGee, "participants will mention the name of a relative or tell a story they normally can't remember. It allows them to connect to something outside themselves."
As a recent session, McGee played Somewhere Over the Rainbow, and residents sang along. She asked them who sang the song, and passed around a photo of the Wizard of Oz cast. After several of them pointed to Dorothy, McGee asked them to name the movie.
"What would you ask the Wizard for?" she later queried the group.
"Good health," answered one.
"A good looking guy," said another.
Whether in the background or in a formal setting, music evokes a response. That response may be as subtle as the tapping of a foot, as dramatic as the transformation of YouTube's Henry, or as familiar as the desire for romance.
The beauty of music, it seems, is it's universal appeal. As Susan Leitch says, "Music involves everyone. It doesn't matter what level of function you're at."
Labels: Alzheimer's, Dementia, For the Spirit, Music, Nancy Sokoler Steiner, Therapy, YouTube