Snippet
Care
Comment
Trauma
2 min read

Rushing recovery and failing the marshmallow test

I simply didn’t like being told ‘no’ even by my own body.

Mica Gray is a wellbeing practitioner working in adult mental health. She is training to be a counselling psychologist.

A crutch is held in the hand of someone in pyjamas.
Towfiqu Barbhuiya on Unsplash.

For most of my life, I’ve identified as someone who would fail the marshmallow test—the famous experiment testing delayed gratification in children. In this test kids are presented with a marshmallow and told that if they don’t eat it and wait for ten minutes, they can have a second one. Like those kids who couldn’t wait for the second marshmallow, I rarely want to wait for things in life. And this desire for immediacy has been amplified by our culture of microwave meals and next-day deliveries. Within our convenience culture, this desire for immediacy finds itself at home. However, when recovering from recent surgery I found myself frustrated with the idea of waiting to heal. I wanted my recovery delivered quickly, like an Amazon package, so I could return to normal life. 

But rushing through healing can come at a high cost. Studies show that athletes who return too soon after injury face a 60 per cent higher risk of further issues, and patients who resume normal activities before their bodies are ready suffer more complications, anxiety, and delayed healing. Though I was fortunate enough not to feel external pressure to rush back to work, I realised the real force pushing me to get back into normal life was pride. I simply didn’t like being told ‘no’ even by my own body. Furthermore, I didn’t like the feeling of being helpless and not in control of my own life - the feeling of appearing weak in the world. 

Surgery humbled me, forcing me to admit that I am in fact weak and not in control. It invited me to surrender—to doctors, to my body, to friends, family and to the process as a whole. As I meditated on an ancient wisdom, from the Bible, “Patience is better than pride,” I found truth in it. Patience helped me recognize what pride didn’t; the strength of my body and the abundance of love and support around me. 

In trying to rush back into normal life I was forcing my body beyond its capability and falling into the trap of believing that weakness is a shameful thing - rather than just part of our natural human experience. In waiting, I’ve experienced a deeper appreciation for my body, my community, and the gifts of rest and healing. These things are as sweet as a second marshmallow. If life is asking you to slow down and make space for recovery, lean into it. Set the boundaries you need and trust the process. From someone coming out on the other side, I can say it’s worth it. 

Snippet
Care
Comment
Education
Hospitality
3 min read

University turmoil makes the case for chaplains

Creating space, offering time, across cultures.
A cup of coffee is offered across a table to a hand that is hesitant.
Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash.

As the university sector convulses, what’s the point of their chaplains? 

The university chaplains fulfil a role which calls for a unique set of skills, including pastoral imagination, flexibility, and creativity as they respond to various, often unpredicted, challenges. Chaplains occupy a place between highly professional Students Services colleagues at the university - think counsellors, experts on emigration and finances, and local parishes representing diverse theological viewpoints.  

Every year, while meeting and greeting international students, one of the earliest tasks for the chaplains is to explain their role, as in non-European languages and cultures there is no equivalent of a “chaplain”. Are the chaplains sort of “spiritual gurus”, “life coaches”, “champions of wellbeing”? What is the real difference for the students and the staff in a secular academic institution, between approaching a chaplain and a professional counsellor?   

In addition to all these initial questions that a student might ask, other observers question the role of chaplains in a secular academic institution, for being counterproductive. Why provide and finance a chaplain without any measurable outcomes of his or her work? Whether it is counting confirmations, ensuring Christian faith and values as clearly pronounced, or/and conducting regular acts of worship for the students and staff? 

Looking at my daily engagement with the international, diverse community of the students and the staff, there are at least three areas of presence (rather being than doing, adapting famous Gabriel Marcel’s distinction), which illuminate this unique type of vocation.  

First, currently British universities are going through a very painful, dramatic time of saving money and redundancies. Chaplaincy is becoming a visible space for emotional support to those who are worried about their immediate future. Students and staff are going through a period of uncertainly, if not confusion, so chaplaincy holds the unique space on the campus to show empathy to those who cry, and to offer time for those who need to speak about their pain.  

Secondly, chaplaincy has the privilege of being very creative in the ways of engaging with the local academic community. The memorial services for the students and the staff who died recently are not the formal funerals: yet they allow the participants to speak, play the music, show videos about the departed.  There is a real celebration of life, brings consolation to academic colleagues, families and relatives.  

Thirdly, unlike other professional services, only chaplaincy is able to show the generosity of time to anyone who comes through the door. That’s because those  individuals are welcome as the ‘image’ of God. The rest about that individual is accidental, he or she finds ‘home away of home’ in the space of chaplaincy, because through the eyes of Christian faith: he or she is precious and unique. 

What about proclaiming the message about Jesus Christ? There is a story about St Francis of Assis who said to his brothers, while approaching an Italian city: “now we will proclaim the Gospel to all who live in this city”. After that he and his companion marched through the streets in silence. When they left the city, one of his brothers, rather surprised by lack of preaching, asked: “Francis, when did we proclaim the Good News?”. “Our way of walking was the proclamation of our faith”. The way how we greet, spend time with students, talk, joke and pray – reflects that proclamation.     

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