Minister Jené Colvin
Religious Diversity & Pastoral Care Team
Division of Mission & Ministry
We have a confession. In planning for this week to honor St. Louise de Marillac today’s theme was “The Many Hats of Louise.” We wanted to focus on the wisdom we could glean from Louise in having to manage all the different roles in her life. She was a mother, a wife, a widow, a teacher, an organizer, a founder, a visionary, an innovator…you get my point. We love St. Louise. The list of adjectives and nouns that rejoice in her legacy are endless. Sometimes, though, when all the words used to describe Louise are listed together, it can be easy to forget she was not all those things all at once. Some of those descriptors do not overlap at all in her life’s story. Even those of us whose job it is to know Louise well enough to share her legacy with the rest of the DePaul community must remember that her descriptors reflect a journey rather than an ingredient list. Not all of those “hats” fit her indefinitely. Not all of them were worn at the same time.
When presented with all the things Louise was and still is to us today, we may think about all the things we are asked to be, the hats we are asked to wear. Student, worker, babysitter, teacher, parent, partner, child to parents who may or may not understand us, faithful member of a community we’ve always been a part of, leader, activist, artist, and so on. When we have so much to do, accomplish, and live up to, we may question how to care for ourselves while juggling our lives. How do I stay healthy and still show up? What wisdom do I rely upon to manage it all?
How did Louise balance it all? How do I balance it all? What if the answer is actually…don’t? Don’t balance it ALL. Hear me out.
Before “shelter-in-place” became an urgent, life-saving call, our lives and identities were arranged across different groups of people, offices, classrooms, organizations, and times of day. Most of us have had to jam all these pieces of our lives into a single living space. Instead of being in an office, parents are home laughing (and sometimes scoffing) at the idea of an uninterrupted hour. Some of us are far from friends who tenderly love our secrets. Some of us must do schoolwork and teach siblings. Some of us are just exhausted by how distressing this all is. Some of us are grieving behind computer screens instead of gathering with family. Some of us were already struggling. Instead of anything being new, it’s just more intense. Rather than being able to prepare, neatly pack, and sort out our lives so that we could social distance effectively, we had to stuff it all in one box, in a hurry. That’s hard.
Not all your hats will fit right now. That’s ok. Maybe you can still switch between hats but can’t wear them as long or as often as before. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not a lack of effort or will. It’s not a lack of dedication or drive. It is true that Louise was many things. She was all those things at different points in her life, to different degrees of completion, success, and peace. She failed sometimes. She was frustrated. She struggled, hard. Yesterday we focused on Louise’s lumière moment. Life changing revelatory moments don’t usually happen when everything is “fine.”
So, if you really want to glean something from the many hats Louise wore, ask yourself this:
- How can I gently and with deep compassion love the parts of myself that are shaken and tender right now?
- Which hats can I set aside for a while and which ones can I wear, without shame, until others or new ones fit?
- What do I need to create the breathing room to ask myself, without shame, “Which hat for right now?”
- How can I give myself space for the hat that does not produce the most, but helps return me to center?
Two of my favorite hats are “lover of tea” and “mother to many houseplants.” I adore being a minister. It’s been one of the greatest joys of my life. Yet, there are days I feel like I have to prune and replant for three hours all while drinking grapefruit oolong tea. I can do that, and then spend an additional hour kicking myself for not wearing the “minister” hat longer…or I can accept those three hours as a hat I desperately needed to wear.
The other hats will still be there. The ones that won’t, well, maybe as Louise found, it was time for a new one anyway.
One thought on “Reflection, Day Two: The Many Hats of Louise”
Thank you, Minister Colvin, for this reassuring reflection.
For the first few weeks of the shelter-in, I felt a deep sense of kinship with my good friends, for we were all uniting in a concerted effort to make lasting change through being still; or at least that’s how I processed it. And then all of a sudden, a few of them went back to working very rigorously, teaching dance for a franchised company through virtual means, and I found myself feeling critical of them, disappointed with this perceived “sell out” of their spirits, and yes, a bit envious for their booming work during a depressed economy. Not only has my workplace directors not reached out in a month, but I could not possibly fathom doing so much work right now as a mama of a 10 month old. And truth be told, I don’t really want to do work of that kind. But I felt that if my close relations ALSO weren’t working, I had less anxiety to be proactive.
Much grief comes from trying to compare our hats and our callings to those of others, especially others we care about deeply. And if we are so concerned with judging their roles, there’s a good chance we are also judging ourselves unjustly.
Your reflection teaches us to take pause and delight in the hats we are being called to wear right now, regardless of the ones others are assuming.
Class of ’10 & ’13
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