A lot of prayer in my family takes place with the burning of sage or sometimes sweetgrass. sort of like incense. Apaches aren't very comfortable with death, and my family is no different. My dad worries a lot about me, which he shows by reminding me to do what we call "cleansing" on a weekly basis. He always tells me to do after I tell him about a particularly difficult patient or complicated situation at work.

I have a horrible lack of tolerance for the day to day routine things. Basically, my day consists of playing on the internet, working, eating, bathing and sleeping. Anything else that gets done is pure icing on the cake. This has been particularly true in the past year, although I have always had a certain ability to do only the bare essentials. For example, the calendar above my desk still reads May. this is a small display of my laziness. I like to think of it as streamlining. Anyway, I have found the best way to get my weekly cleansings in is to keep sweetgrass in the car.

While I am driving I think about my life, thinking about things to write about here. While thinking about my life, I often think- "oh! I need to do a cleansing." So, while waiting at a red light, I quickly offer smoke to the four directions, bathe myself in sweetgrass smoke, and cruise on with my day. It's my little ritual. If things get particularly sticky at school or work, I slide out to the car for a little spiritual tune-up. It is very convenient, this ritual of mine. A portable place of worship.

We believe that the smoke from these sacred plants helps to keep the spirits of those who have gone before us from following us around. Therefore, it is crucial that I am consistent in my prayer and cleansings, because in my line of work those buggers can really back up on me. It would get kind of crowded in my spiritual space otherwise.

Today I made a point of having a moment with the smoke. My little bird died today, just a little before noon. He hung on for me, then checked out while his partner had rushed home to shower and change. When the partner came back I had to be the one to tell him that his sweetheart had died. It was all very hard, but very nice. I have a hard time explaining this life of mine to other people, because I see the death as a goal, as something we worked towards. When a person dies comfortably and free of pain, I have met my goals for that patient. When I can see a partner say his final good-byes to his significant other, and I can cry with that partner, I've done my job. It makes me feel good.

Today it was a good death. He was comfortable and ready to die. He had the support of his family. He was free of pain. I did my job. When I got to the car at the end of my shift I burned the sweetgrass, said a prayer, and went on with my day.