I've mentioned E.F. Schumacher's Small is Beautiful on a number of occasions throughout TOA's history - once in a 2017 reading review, and again in a 2018 post. The latter may seem superfluous on first glance, but since I didn't mention intermediate technologies in 2017, I suppose it was only a matter of time before I rectified the omission. Intermediate technology has a certain "official" definition in the context of development economics, but I've managed to distort it over the years into terms I can use within the context of my own life - I now think of it as the achievable short-term target within the process of reaching a larger long-term goal. A recent example came around this time last year when I became interested in doing pistol squats, which is a strength training exercise that resembles a full squat on one leg. I came across a blunt insight while researching the movement - if you can't do a full squat while using both legs, it's simply impossible to do it on one leg; I forgot all about the pistols and turned my attention toward the full squat.
The pandemic must have forced me out of this habit of reframing larger problems in terms of smaller, achievable targets because I was caught-off guard last week by an innocent question - how should hospice volunteers respond when they are uncomfortable with a new resident? The question lingered in the air for a few moments, threatening to become its own example, but I soon realized the problem with the premise - it reminded me of the way I first thought about pistol squats. I think the biggest issue for a hospice volunteer is thinking about the role as some version of life that happens entirely apart from everything else, like trying to support all of your weight on one leg before you can do so on two. It becomes yet another moment where we divide ourselves, leaving our accumulated experience and wisdom at the door; I think compartmentalizing is healthy, but only in brief spells, and always with the intent to reunify as quickly as possible.
One way to think about a challenging situation, like the first few shifts in a new volunteer role, is to frame it like an athlete approaches the game, the student approaches the exam, or the artist approaches the performance; the problems that arise on the big occasion should then inform the rest of your life, which is like training, studying, or rehearsing before the next shift - if you learn on your first assignment that you can't cook, you go home and cultivate those culinary skills in your kitchen. It's all about understanding the big target - becoming a great volunteer - and thinking about it in steps that give us a plan for the day. This is the feedback process, this is the performance improvement approach, this is the commitment to growth and personal development that eludes us when we compartmentalize for too long, which makes it impossible for the volunteer to understand the razor-thin margins between the shift and the rest of his or her life.
