Front and center in the good life are purposes larger than ourselves, particularly service to others.

Dennis Sparks/Contributor

The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.
—Mahatma Gandhi

I doubt that the good life is a location, although places that are special to us can contribute to the quality of our lives. And it’s unlikely that the good life is a particular thing, although its ingredients are probably fairly small in number—caring about something that is larger than self interest, connecting with others in meaningful ways, having a reason to get up in the morning that adds vitality to life, feeling appreciated, and using one’s talents readily come to mind, although I’m sure others would add or subtract from this list.

As my work changed so that I was traveling less frequently, I knew from previous experiences that volunteering could be tremendously satisfying, and an activity that’s closely aligned with the qualities of the good life I mentioned above. Ann Arbor has many opportunities for volunteering with the young and old, animals and minerals, the natural and the supernatural.

For a variety of reasons I knew that hospice care was where I wanted to direct my effort, not the least of which is the admiration I have always felt for those who do hospice work. More than once in the past few years I’ve observed that they are as close to angels as I am likely to encounter in this earthly realm. I also knew that anything I could do to learn from them and hospice patients about navigating this passage would certainly nudge me in the direction of the person I’d like to become as that time approaches.

Part of my inspiration for volunteering at a hospice—which I have been doing now for about a year—was a long-time Canadian colleague who has volunteered for many years at a southwestern Ontario hospice. More than once she told me how her life was changed for the better through this service and the important lessons she learned from those who were dying.

“As a volunteer I provide a safe place for clients to share their emotions, which they sometimes were unable to do with their own families who are struggling with the imminent loss of a loved one,” she told me. “I learned to focus less on the illness and more on the things I could bring to their lives. A recent patient and I shared an interest in a particular kind of movie, and we would watch them together. I was also able to support her as she reconnected with a long-time hobby by setting up her equipment for her. Those things gave her something to look forward to and some hope, at least for that day.”

Hospice volunteering, she added, “helped me realize what’s important and to prioritize my life on a daily basis. And I’ve been able to use what I’ve learned to support friends and family who are not part of hospice when they have gone through illnesses and losses in their own lives.”

Like first responders who are trained to run into buildings while others are running out, hospice workers move toward the people and purposes they serve rather than away from death and dying, an avoidance which seems to be the default setting of a society that in many ways finds it difficult to acknowledge the inevitability of life’s end. The hospice movement has taught us that “the good life” also includes physical comfort and emotional support for ourselves and our loved ones as the end draws near.

Dennis Sparks’ “Things Observed” photos and essays encourage readers to see familiar things in new ways. You can also read his blog on school leadership and contact him at dennis.sparks@comcast.net.