Please tell us a little about yourself.

I am a Riga Jurmala girl who grew up on the softest sand in the world. Considering the Soviet times, I had a relatively bright childhood. I grew up with parents who were very interested in making sure that we, the children, were educated to the maximum and saw the world as much as possible. In the evenings, while other children were playing, my brother and I went to music school four or five nights a week. I played the kokle, I was in a kokle ensemble with which we performed in concerts and went on trips to other countries. At the beginning we travelled around the former Soviet Union, but after Latvia regained its independence, when I founded a pipe band in a church, we toured all over the world. Visitors, including from the USA, started coming to visit us, and I, a piper with two long blonde braids, fell in love with the Reverend Aivars Pelds from Florida. Knowing that I was a theology graduate, he offered me the opportunity to go and do an internship in a church in the USA.

Did you agree?

I had written my thesis on chaplaincy and I wanted my life path to lead me to a balance where I was serving, enjoying my work and at the same time being able to provide and support myself. In Latvia I was working in the hotel business and I felt financially stable, I was on a good trajectory in my professional life, but I didn't feel fulfilled inside and I wanted to go back to what I had studied and what I was passionate about. That is largely why I took the call and went to the US, because it gave me that balance. Then it also gave me the opportunity to become a pastor, which was not possible in Latvia. Two days ago we, the Latvian Evangelical Lutheran Church in the World (LELBP), were granted the status of a registered church in Latvia. Our LELBP church is headed by Archbishop Lauma Zušēvica. In Latvia, it has an active chaplain and pastor Rudīte Losāne, a chaplain and dean of the Faculty of Theology at the University of Latvia Dace Balode, a pastor of the Anglican Church Elīza Zitmane. It is an interesting coincidence that after 20 years away, I am returning here at a time when our church is officially recognised in Latvia, and now I could serve here too.

When did you become a pastor?

I was ordained as a pastor in the USA 18 years ago in Washington DC, after internships in Florida, Detroit, Washington DC. The road to ordination took me almost two years. I took it very seriously, I didn't want to rush, I wanted to understand deeply the depths of my vocation, because it is a very great responsibility. I went through this process with great reverence and very deep reflection on myself, on my spiritual motives. The United States gave me a process of education and self-understanding. I also got my Master's degree in Theology while I was in the USA, worked for two years as a hospital chaplain during my residency, went through the certification process to become a professional chaplain. 

At the moment, your business card says chaplain and mourning specialist, but not pastor.

Yes, I'm creating a business card for Hospiss LV. When we perform our duties as chaplains, the basis of our ordination or denomination is important to us, but we do not highlight our ordination or religious affiliation. This is done to create an aura of openness and hospitality to everyone, because in my eyes, everyone is equally important - agnostic, atheist, Muslim, Buddhist or fervent Christian. In my theology, everyone has God's grace and His love.  

Tell us where and how did you become a seed specialist?

Oregon, USA Grief Recovery Insitute is a programme whose core is to get you on the path to healing your heart. It teaches how to be in a process that helps you to heal the loss and get to a place where there is greater freedom, acceptance and peace - this includes the spiritual, emotional and physical levels. I believe that if we deal with certain emotions, it also improves our physical health. Not always, but it certainly helps.

Listening to your lecture at the Hospiss LV training, I was surprised to hear that mourning is not only about the loss of a loved one, but can be understood in a much broader sense.

It was a surprise for me! As I learned more about grief, I learned that we can be affected by dozens of different kinds of loss. Grief in a broader sense is not only the deep, sad and sorrowful events. Very often, the good things that happen in our lives also include a sense of loss. Even a joyful event such as marriage or the birth of a child can bring very conflicting emotions, because these significant changes also involve a certain loss - a change of environment, a change of daily life, a change of lifestyle. That is why many people are afraid to stand before the altar, or even fall asleep at the last minute.

As far as I understand, you are not kidding. Will you tell me about your husband?

My husband Valdis is from the middle of the USA, born into a Latvian family. His parents left Latvia after the Second World War and were the only survivors in their families, the others were shot or did not survive in exile. Valdis' parents met in a refugee camp in Germany and after a while they found their way together, got married and started their life in Granrapids. It was a big Latvian centre, so all three of their boys grew up in a Latvian environment. Valdis knows more words to Latvian songs than I do and writes in Endzelin-style Latvian.

We met when I was a pastor looking for a job in Boston. Valdis had lived in Boston for twenty years, knew it very well and considered it his home. Our mutual friends asked him to show me around. So Valdis showed me Boston (laughs). We didn't violate any ethical principles, because Valdis was not from my church. We were brought together by our Latvianness, which is very important to both of us. As Valdis laughs, we can quietly smear pate on rye bread and enjoy it for breakfast, no American would understand. For Valdis, returning to Latvia is like completing the circle of life - at least one of the family is in Latvia again.

How does he feel here?

We knew in our hearts from day one that this was the right decision and we had to be here, this is our home, but great change is also a time of loss. The first six months were a time of adjustment for him and for me - with different feelings and reflections. Like a roller coaster - up and down. For example, I had never experienced November in Latvia for 20 years and neither had Valdis. The darkness, the house sitting - it was not easy.

And how did you feel when you returned to Latvia after 20 years? Did you even want to come back?

I wanted to go back. Valdis was the main decision-maker and I followed him. I don't regret going back, but how do I feel? This place has changed and I have changed. It's about how we find our way back to each other and how we create something new, because very little is the same as it was.

What are the most important changes you see?

A generation has grown up that has never experienced the Soviet era. If I am happy about anything, it is the youth of Latvia - I see what it means to grow up without the consequences of the Soviets, without oppression, in a free, democratic country. I am happy to meet people, and I meet them almost every day, who say - I will never leave Latvia. Some have left and I was part of that wave, but some have put down even deeper roots. I see that those who have a good education and a secure economic situation really do not want to go anywhere. We live in Pārdaugava, and I am happy to walk the streets and see how this part of the city has flourished - the environment has been cleaned up, a community of its own has developed. The centre of Riga has always been very nice, but 20 years ago Pārdaugava was a pretty sad place.

How do Latvians mourn, how is it different from Americans?

In the USA, I have worked both as a pastor and as a hospital chaplain, mostly with oncology patients and in palliative care, also in the maternity ward. Whichever area I work in, in spiritual care, there is always mourning. I have worked with Latvians in America, with Americans of different nationalities, and now with Latvians in Latvia. The loss of homeland is still a big and common theme for Latvians in America, whether they return to Latvia or not - it is in their genes, the loss of homeland caused by the war. Latvians in both the US and Latvia are characterised by restraint, not showing emotions. How many people cry at Latvian funerals? Yes, we sometimes shed a tear in silence, but how many people express their feelings and let the whole world know that they are mourning, that what has happened is very painful? It is not right or wrong, it is just that we have a quieter approach to mourning.

Why is that?

I think we are a northern people, it's a question of mentality. But I wouldn't say we don't monitor, we just do it in our own ways. The same grave culture is very important for us - it is mourning. Only yesterday I was with a person who had recently lost a loved one. He said that he had never gone to the cemetery before, but now he goes almost every day. It was so clear that it is a process of mourning for this person - to go to the cemetery, to cry, to talk.

Other nations, such as South America, have a very distinctive community - everyone mourns together. The African-American community mourns very loudly - they are not shy about showing their emotions, even physical expressions, such as falling along the ground, hitting the ground or a wall with their hands, breaking the energy of the mourning. I had a lot of work to do with myself until I learned to accept and support myself in such situations.

How do Latvians get this energy out of themselves?

We have our own old authentic ways - contact with the land, our culture and music, sauna, picking berries and mushrooms. Cemetery culture is also a kind of connection with nature, a touch with nature. A lady very close to me, who recently passed away at the age of 96, said to me: "I have two things that help me in difficult times: writing letters and putting my hands in the ground". She had one of the most beautiful gardens in Boston.

I think we trust the resources we already have, we are less likely to look for new ways. For example, sitting with a professional in his office and talking about your grief is still new territory for many. In the US, almost everyone has been to psychotherapy, to a pastor or a chaplain, it's like a cultural thing. In Latvian society, it is not completely normalised to go to a specialist and seek help, especially in the older generation.

In the USA, Latvia and elsewhere, people in mourning use not only long-term methods that lead to healing, but also short-term methods. Without emotional self-regulation, people turn to band-aids, quick painkillers and various addictions.

What are the biggest losses people face?

In a hospice setting, of course, it is the passing of a loved one that is mourned by family and friends. But what is often revealed in going through the grieving process is not only the grieving for the passing of a loved one, but for many other things. There are so many unmourned events in people that they carry with them throughout their lives! And often it is not the deceased that we mourn, but a living person with whom we have a complex, unfinished and contradictory relationship. Or perhaps it is the recent death of our dog or other pet that hurts the most. So I always start by identifying the pain that is most acute and work with that.

What do you usually do at these meetings?

There is a beginning and an end to this process, and I am not with these people forever. Mostly it's conversations, we have a few laughs together, sometimes I pray if my interlocutor wants me to. The process lasts three months at the most and it always ends with writing, then we go into the garden and burn what we have written. Sometimes people still bring something they want to burn - a diary, photographs, letters - to get rid of the emotions associated with certain people or events. Not to forget, but to let go and no longer live in those contradictory and intense feelings about what happened. Often it is the contradictions or inner conflicts that take away the most emotion and strength.

Does this grieving process also include any actions, such as talking it out with the person with whom you have a difficult relationship?

We never involve other people, that's one of the basic principles. The work is done in a safe and confidential environment - they do everything here, in the "safe container", because basically it is the forgiveness and letting go that they need, not the other person. The effect always lifts me up, it is so healing. You go out into the world and quite naturally from the transformation you have gone through, the relationship is sorted out and realigned with the other person also in real life, if they are still in this world. I have also experienced such a transformation myself, I have had a relationship with a close person that was difficult before. It is also important not to wait for anything - forgiveness, talking things out. Of course, this does not mean that we cannot invite the other person to a conversation, but we cannot expect healing, we can only achieve that in our inner work.

Is it absolutely necessary? I never insist. There are so many healing modalities in this world and I don't consider my work or presence to be "everyones cup of tea" (valid for all). I let people come to the meeting and feel if I will be one of the instruments that can help them on their healing journey. I believe that people have absolutely phenomenal inner resources and everyone knows what they need. That's why, both when I work in other parts of the world and here at Hospiss LV, I always start with a getting-to-know-you conversation where we try to figure out if we're a good fit for each other. And if we feel that resonance, we work together. If, during the process, we also get the feeling that we don't want to continue, we can always say thank you and look for healing in another way. Go to yoga, for example! I myself have sometimes changed from talking to very bodily expressions - for me this is very important for healing. I am very Bodilyhuman and I feel like I'm doing things with my whole body, not just my mind and emotions.

What are the consequences if you miss something?

If we carry traumas, injuries, burdens - this can have all kinds of lasting effects in our lives. And it is not one effect, they can be very different - unique and individual. It is only when we start to untangle the painful things that the bigger picture and perspective begin to emerge.

A woman came to me and said, "I have had a heart ache every morning when I get up for 40 years. She was a Latvian-American woman who had lost her country home in Vidzeme. She had fled with her family all over Latvia, then left her cattle in Liepaja and moved on by boat. And throughout her life, this loss was a physical weight in her chest. This is one example of when such prolonged mourning weighs heavily on the heart and mood, staining the quality of life. I believe that there is a link between various long-term physical ailments and our emotional world. As I mentioned, very often addictions are based on a trauma, something that has not been processed.

Could it be that the person does not even know what he is mourning?

Yes, I had that myself. I went through the programme to help others and I found that I had some 18 untold events or people in my life. I met with a fellow student twice a month for a whole year and worked on these losses. I had no idea how much I had accumulated in myself! And I also had a mysterious health problem that was taking hold. Things got better when I let go of the intensity I felt towards certain situations. And yet, life gave me more and more similar situations, so that I finally understood how to react, so that I let go of past events and themes.

Although the method I use is mainly educational and psychological, I believe it has a huge spiritual basis. All the great religions and spiritual paths speak of forgiveness. Forgiveness of self and other is at the heart of everything.

Can you give a solution, a method for someone who is not yet ready to see a specialist, that they could practice at home?

Of course! Very often my clients tell me about the current situation - this is the hardest thing that has ever happened to me. But it is certainly not the first difficulty they have faced in their lives. And that's why I usually ask - what is it that has helped you in the past? Name three things that you did that helped you when you had a previous difficulty - a divorce, a loss, a serious difficulty. If a person is not ready to see a specialist, they can ask themselves this question. Then write these three things down on a piece of paper and put them on a magnet on the fridge so that the next time he faces a difficulty, these supportive solutions are in front of his eyes. Dance, yoga, sauna, talking to your best friend, a walk by the sea, gardening - something different can help everyone.

I am a great believer that even in the deepest crisis, people have access to their own resources and my role as a chaplain is to set processes in motion to access and use those resources.

How often do you encounter the role of a victim in Latvia?

We have lived under foreign rule, we have been oppressed collectively and individually, and the oft-used phrase "there is nothing you can do", a certain powerlessness, is ingrained in us from those times. In the USA, this attitude was not common, there was a strong individualism and sometimes even a 'going into the other ditch' - everything is completely in my hands, I will manage everything! I think the truth is in the middle. I observe the victim role in our society very strongly and it goes hand in hand with the fact that we are not prepared to take responsibility, neither for our lives nor for our feelings. Of course, we have to be careful with this, because the victim role has a very broad spectrum. People often come to me where they have experienced different kinds of violence and they say that the perpetrator is 100% responsible for the offence and that they are the victim. I fully respect, hear and understand that. But the question is, is it also possible to take 1% responsibility for the situation in these cases - how do I as an adult deal with my trauma, can I take responsibility for how I feel?

Do you feel that the war in Ukraine is now stirring up our historical collective trauma?

Yes, there is a feeling that the wound of this collective trauma has reopened and that what is happening is very present. I am trying to encourage myself and others by thinking, what are the possibilities at this time - to help, to activate everyone's responsibility, to strengthen ourselves, each other, our country? 

Why did you choose to work in this difficult profession?

At this stage of my life, life gives me opportunities and I respond to them with my gifts. I never feel that I am trying to break in through a closed door. I go through the open door and work where my task, my abilities and God's gifts meet. From the point of view of education and experience, I could not do anything else. I am motivated by seeing transformation in myself and others, it is the best reward, it is a work of the heart. Alongside my work, it is also extremely important for me to rejuvenate, to regain my strength so that I can be balanced, because that is the only way I can be a professional. How do I know that my work is my vocation? Because I have no doubts! If the day comes when I start to doubt and feel the need to change, I will do it. I don't like to speak in public or to large groups, but I love 1:1 work, where in the safe space of two people in a shared energy field we can find ways to transform something difficult.

What has communicating with people who have passed away taught you?

In my work, I must be humble. Yes, I have experience, I have learned a lot, but when I go to another person, I have to go with humility and with an attitude - I don't really know anything. With the utmost respect, with a bow to the other person and to the soul. Especially when going to people who are close to passing away, it is important to be inwardly silent and to go with a beginner's mind, with a deep inner state of prayer and to be supported by a healing presence. To really meet the other and to hear what they need is an art and it is difficult to do. I think everyone working in hospice has this perspective - every day is a gift. Yes, we deal with very sad situations, but the question is, how fully are we living our own lives? What do I want to be written on my tombstone? What am I leaving behind? Do not be afraid to live! Our last departed have been so heartbreaking, a daily reminder not to be afraid to live. What that means for each of us is up to our interpretation.