Yes, chasing daylight is what Zuko and I did getting back to LA. Zuko was not feeling well - all I knew was I had to get him back to LA. So, up at 2:00 am, on the road by 3:00 - heading West. Watching the sunrise in my rearview mirror while that Harvest Moon lit the road in front of me.
Somewhere in Kansas it occurred to me...chasing daylight is a thread noticeable throughout my life. During night, in darkness - bad things happen most. People are bold when they are hidden in shadows. People are brave when they believe no one is watching. Roaches come out in darkness. Light of day tempers cowardice. Does not eliminate it.
It is thus I have chased daylight. Watching and wanting the sun to rise. Believing I was safer by dawn's early light. Still my favorite time of day is sunset. Part of my attraction to this left coast was watching sunsets on the Pacific. And when I was such a basket case, I was frozen with fear until darkness.
Ok, I will admit to my dichotomous personality. You have to give me a break on that one. Who amongst is always one way, and only one way. (remembering of course that always and never do not exist on a time/space continuum.)
Blocking out every physical or emotional need of my own, I had to get Zuko back to LA. It is true that whole mother lifting a car off of her child - and I am adept at blocking. (I think mental health folks refer to it as disassociating) Matters not what you want to call it - LOVE gives us powers beyond comprehension.
Along our route, after listening to every song about 10 times more than I could stand. I went into my "zone." A place which allows me to function without food, water, bathroom breaks, no pain, no thought, no nothing - my entire focus was on 6 feet of white line, then 6 feet of white line, then six feet of white line...
There, in that space of a pickup cab; from town to town, taking back roads because I could not handle the intensity of interstate driving. Moving West/South West as safely and quickly as I possibly could I was chasing daylight so I could catch a sunset...in turning off all connections - emotional, physical - having only one purpose - In Kansas, with Dorothy, Tinman, Scarecrow, and the Lion - Well, I knew I could not go home again. Home was a place I had built with Liz and Emily. Home was friends who became family, who had moved forward as life dictated, and I, I had to find a way to do that.
Starting over at 51. Still knowing and feeling so blessed and loved. Still feeling unworthy and guilty. Somewhere along that stretch of small towns the world had all but forgotten. Boarded up Main Streets, shut down restaurants and cafes; Irony of it all not lost - I could still smile. I would feel again.
I will, I will, I will...through tears I could not stop; I repeated those two words - I will, I will, I will. How easy it had become to masticate on the minutia (excellent alliteration!) Nope, was not an answer I found. It was a desire. My desire, me, this person who has always tried my best - not perfect, not without flaws - yet, a person who has picked up and moved forward. A person who has survived unthinkable acts of cruelty, neglect, abuse - a person who has known deep love, incredible passion, simple joys - we are all me. I am just like everyone else.
I can see work I need to do. Forgiveness I need to give. Kindness I am most grateful for. With all of life I am loved and worthy of being loved. When I have failed, it was not for wanting to be better. Sometimes, even our best just is not good enough. That measuring stick does not belong to me. In my soul, in my truth - with regrets and with hopes, what I can do is tighten up my laces, pick up my head, and keep watching those six feet of white line.
I will keep chasing daylight just for a glimpse of a sunset over the Pacific. I will continue searching for a better me. In my darkest hour I will hold that thread of hope. Though thinking of it, quite honestly is exhausting, I don't know how to give up. I don't know how to burn bridges or shut doors. I only know how to keep going. To continue to do my best. To pray my best is good enough. To give thanks for those who humble me with their love and kindness.
Maybe I will watch The Wizard of Oz. I have not seen that movie. Though I know the Lion needed courage, the Scarecrow needed a backbone, and the Tinman needed oil, at least I think that is it. And Dorothy, she needed to go home. Reckon, home exists inside of us. Home is with those who love us. Perhaps I have only more questions; long stretches of quiet road can illicit questions. Perhaps a long stretch of sitting still will bring forth some answers. That would be really cool. Or maybe catching a glimpse of a sun setting over the Pacific - Here's Hoping!
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
Falling Up
I did it. I opened the box and showed all its ugly contents to my father. I showed him the abuse, neglect, rape. I showed him all my scars - having the barrel of a rifle shoved in my mouth and being told if I said anything he would kill my sister - then raping me with that same rifle.
I told him of being locked in the basement all day long or all night long. I told him of welts on my back that bled in school; being sent to the nurses office.
I told him everything - know what he said;
"I just don't remember. I was working a lot."
"Are you kidding me? You were out drinking. You were not working. When I spoke up I only got beat worse."
"I just did not know it was so bad."
Every piece of ugly I showed him he would shake his head and repeat his denial of any knowledge. But his bitch wife would really like the plastic coffee table she "loaned" me last year.
I don't know where the coffee table is. I do not know.
"Are you listening to me? How can you ask me about a piece of furniture, I am fighting for my life here?"
"I am sorry I let you down."
Let me down - I don't know what I thought he would say. I was not trying to hurt him. I just needed to get rid of that box. I carried so very long. I did what I was told - keep the peace.
"Do you think you could find that plastic coffee table?"
And on and on and on.
So, today - four days later, I saw my father again. Four days his bitch wife hounded him about that trailer park trash coffee table. Four days of her bullying him and bad mouthing me.
I brought some pictures I had come across of him with my sister. I brought him some potatoes from Eileen's garden. First words out of his mouth -
"Any luck with the coffee table?"
That was it. That was the moment I knew I would never see my father again. The moment when that freaking box was not mine anymore. I am fighting for my life and you are worrying about a piece of plastic furniture.
Today was a day when my father denied everything I said. Everything I could prove. Every tear I have shed. How could I say he never put me first he had a lot of responsibilities, a lot of people who needed to be first - he was married.
That is it. When he went on and on and on with his denials, accusing me of making it up - telling me that I went into the bastards bedroom because I wanted to. Yes, a six year old wants to do that.
Hence, I am falling up. It hurts, the bruises will take some time to heal - however, that box is no longer mine. I am falling, but I am falling up. And that is OK. I will get on, get over.
Reckon it will be grieving the loss of my father. To me he is gone. I won't see him again. I won't talk to him again. And when finish getting the last bit of faith I had he might one day put me first - well, I will be falling up.
I think falling up is flying - I will get there - I will fly.
I told him of being locked in the basement all day long or all night long. I told him of welts on my back that bled in school; being sent to the nurses office.
I told him everything - know what he said;
"I just don't remember. I was working a lot."
"Are you kidding me? You were out drinking. You were not working. When I spoke up I only got beat worse."
"I just did not know it was so bad."
Every piece of ugly I showed him he would shake his head and repeat his denial of any knowledge. But his bitch wife would really like the plastic coffee table she "loaned" me last year.
I don't know where the coffee table is. I do not know.
"Are you listening to me? How can you ask me about a piece of furniture, I am fighting for my life here?"
"I am sorry I let you down."
Let me down - I don't know what I thought he would say. I was not trying to hurt him. I just needed to get rid of that box. I carried so very long. I did what I was told - keep the peace.
"Do you think you could find that plastic coffee table?"
And on and on and on.
So, today - four days later, I saw my father again. Four days his bitch wife hounded him about that trailer park trash coffee table. Four days of her bullying him and bad mouthing me.
I brought some pictures I had come across of him with my sister. I brought him some potatoes from Eileen's garden. First words out of his mouth -
"Any luck with the coffee table?"
That was it. That was the moment I knew I would never see my father again. The moment when that freaking box was not mine anymore. I am fighting for my life and you are worrying about a piece of plastic furniture.
Today was a day when my father denied everything I said. Everything I could prove. Every tear I have shed. How could I say he never put me first he had a lot of responsibilities, a lot of people who needed to be first - he was married.
That is it. When he went on and on and on with his denials, accusing me of making it up - telling me that I went into the bastards bedroom because I wanted to. Yes, a six year old wants to do that.
Hence, I am falling up. It hurts, the bruises will take some time to heal - however, that box is no longer mine. I am falling, but I am falling up. And that is OK. I will get on, get over.
Reckon it will be grieving the loss of my father. To me he is gone. I won't see him again. I won't talk to him again. And when finish getting the last bit of faith I had he might one day put me first - well, I will be falling up.
I think falling up is flying - I will get there - I will fly.
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Comes A Time
Reckon it is that time...nothing I do seems to make any difference. Or if it does make a difference - seems to be not a good difference. I kept quiet. I accepted all the blame. I gave everything I had. Once I was down, some started just shoveling dirt upon my grave.
So be it. So be betrayal. All the freaking lies I let slide. That is what I do - keep the peace and accept blame. Whoever I was - it did not matter. Everything I did, made no difference.
Yup there comes a time -
So be it. So be betrayal. All the freaking lies I let slide. That is what I do - keep the peace and accept blame. Whoever I was - it did not matter. Everything I did, made no difference.
Yup there comes a time -
Free Write
I can't sleep so reckon I will free write. I was just listening to this Melissa Etheridge song - The beating of my heart shouldn't hurt no one. And love can only make you stronger. That is correct isn't it? I know it is.
We do the best we can-sometimes that is just not good enough. Does that mean we failed? If you do your best that is not failing. It is that same concept of overachieving-if you achieved it then you did not over achieve...you just did it; your best.
I think it was Gail you posted on FB today the question "Why does the universe have to be so hard?" or something like that. Well you know me, I think about everything.
Universe is not hard; people are sometimes difficult. I don't understand Israel bombing Gaza and vice-versa. I don't understand why we, Citizens of the United States believe we can tell them to stop. When a person fights in the name of his/her higher power - you don't stop them. It is not like this war has not been going on for hundreds of years.
Yes, I get the politics of it. It is the images on television. A woman standing in her living room, on the second floor, the entire front wall is gone. There she stood dressed in black. It haunts me.
We stopped taking responsibility for just being kind. Opening a door for someone. Letting a car out ahead of you. Letting the dude with two items go ahead of you in the grocery store.
We don't sit and talk anymore. We don't communicate. What happened? We are really lost.
Nat was telling me how a lady at the library this morning was so very rude - and how that encounter just set her whole day on a negative tone. It also served to remind her how easily we can hurt one another.
We are all in this together. Jeepers can't we show a bit of patience and kindness. Assistant Principal once told me students and parents view kindness as weakness. Dang, that is sad. It was true.
I know we are better than what we sometimes put out there. I know we all have bad days. Reckon, we should try not to make our bad day bleed onto someone else's day.
Life is more than work, consume, die. It is so much more. Making a difference, finding a way to reach out - creating, questioning, learning, searching - connecting!
Oh, all the wishes won't make any difference, reckon it doesn't hurt to try. At least to do that much - just try once a day to bring a smile to someone, or a laugh, a simple act of kindness - each of us, if we did it just once a day - that is a lot of good stuff.
It was a poem I was writing in my head last night - it isn't done. When it is I will share it. In the meantime y'all get some sleep. Someone has to. Night, love ya.
We do the best we can-sometimes that is just not good enough. Does that mean we failed? If you do your best that is not failing. It is that same concept of overachieving-if you achieved it then you did not over achieve...you just did it; your best.
I think it was Gail you posted on FB today the question "Why does the universe have to be so hard?" or something like that. Well you know me, I think about everything.
Universe is not hard; people are sometimes difficult. I don't understand Israel bombing Gaza and vice-versa. I don't understand why we, Citizens of the United States believe we can tell them to stop. When a person fights in the name of his/her higher power - you don't stop them. It is not like this war has not been going on for hundreds of years.
Yes, I get the politics of it. It is the images on television. A woman standing in her living room, on the second floor, the entire front wall is gone. There she stood dressed in black. It haunts me.
We stopped taking responsibility for just being kind. Opening a door for someone. Letting a car out ahead of you. Letting the dude with two items go ahead of you in the grocery store.
We don't sit and talk anymore. We don't communicate. What happened? We are really lost.
Nat was telling me how a lady at the library this morning was so very rude - and how that encounter just set her whole day on a negative tone. It also served to remind her how easily we can hurt one another.
We are all in this together. Jeepers can't we show a bit of patience and kindness. Assistant Principal once told me students and parents view kindness as weakness. Dang, that is sad. It was true.
I know we are better than what we sometimes put out there. I know we all have bad days. Reckon, we should try not to make our bad day bleed onto someone else's day.
Life is more than work, consume, die. It is so much more. Making a difference, finding a way to reach out - creating, questioning, learning, searching - connecting!
Oh, all the wishes won't make any difference, reckon it doesn't hurt to try. At least to do that much - just try once a day to bring a smile to someone, or a laugh, a simple act of kindness - each of us, if we did it just once a day - that is a lot of good stuff.
It was a poem I was writing in my head last night - it isn't done. When it is I will share it. In the meantime y'all get some sleep. Someone has to. Night, love ya.
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Hammer or Ice
I dropped a 7 pound of ice on my foot. It hurt! Then I hit my right pointer finger with a hammer! That hurt! These events pretty much sum of the past few days for me.
Please do not misunderstand what I am saying - My Donald is getting married. I am so happy for him! He has been my friend 22 years. My go to guy. He cannot be that person anymore. That is OK...Really, I am happy for him.
Sometimes I wonder if I did something really bad in a previous life. In fact I don't recall a time when I did not wonder that. Which has nothing to do with Donald getting married.
I did not take pills or crawl into a battle. Took a shower, went to watch my former softball team play in a tournament. Which may hurt more than ice or hammer. I purposefully wore shoes I could not play softball in. I knew at some point Jef would ask me if I wanted to play an inning or have a turn at bat. Yes, I long for such moments - just not moments I can have. So I kept score and did the 7/11 run. Yippee for me!
I have said before that I am not apologizing anymore. Whatever I do to get through a day - well screw it! Today I did what is considered the "right thing." I will do whatever I want to do and I will not feel bad for it.
Neither the hammer, ice, score keeping, or 7/11 run made tears stop streaming down my face. So what is the difference? At least I should have a bit of peace.
No matter how many ways I try to explain this...no one gets it. I cannot play softball anymore - have you any idea how much that hurts? Do you know how hard it is to be cheerful and positive while every part of you hurts --
You don't get it! You can't get it! You are not limping in my Crocs!
Now I am a person who does stuff for other people; which is fine - it is stuff from the bottom because I cannot get back on top. It does not matter what I do - Don't you get that?
We have all lost people, opportunities, jobs, family - I have lost mine again and again and again! So whatever I did in my previous life which so angered our universe - Dang, I wish I could figure it out.
Shoot, don't worry about it. Tomorrow is a new day - get up, tie up your laces, put that smile on, and get up to speed.
I will. I am not a quitter.
Please do not misunderstand what I am saying - My Donald is getting married. I am so happy for him! He has been my friend 22 years. My go to guy. He cannot be that person anymore. That is OK...Really, I am happy for him.
Sometimes I wonder if I did something really bad in a previous life. In fact I don't recall a time when I did not wonder that. Which has nothing to do with Donald getting married.
I did not take pills or crawl into a battle. Took a shower, went to watch my former softball team play in a tournament. Which may hurt more than ice or hammer. I purposefully wore shoes I could not play softball in. I knew at some point Jef would ask me if I wanted to play an inning or have a turn at bat. Yes, I long for such moments - just not moments I can have. So I kept score and did the 7/11 run. Yippee for me!
I have said before that I am not apologizing anymore. Whatever I do to get through a day - well screw it! Today I did what is considered the "right thing." I will do whatever I want to do and I will not feel bad for it.
Neither the hammer, ice, score keeping, or 7/11 run made tears stop streaming down my face. So what is the difference? At least I should have a bit of peace.
No matter how many ways I try to explain this...no one gets it. I cannot play softball anymore - have you any idea how much that hurts? Do you know how hard it is to be cheerful and positive while every part of you hurts --
You don't get it! You can't get it! You are not limping in my Crocs!
Now I am a person who does stuff for other people; which is fine - it is stuff from the bottom because I cannot get back on top. It does not matter what I do - Don't you get that?
We have all lost people, opportunities, jobs, family - I have lost mine again and again and again! So whatever I did in my previous life which so angered our universe - Dang, I wish I could figure it out.
Shoot, don't worry about it. Tomorrow is a new day - get up, tie up your laces, put that smile on, and get up to speed.
I will. I am not a quitter.
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Burning Bridges and Closing Doors
Not been any practice of mine to burn a bridge. Believing in life's circular pattern - won't be too long until I find myself on banks of a raging river - and bridge I burned was only safe passage I had to cross.
Same with closing doors. Entering the "funny house" life so often is - should I close and lock a door; then find myself on the outside with no combination to get back in?
I know folks who are able to do this. I know folks who must do this. I know folks who choose to do this - and I know me.
Odd isn't it; how we are shaped by so many external factors - add in genetics - we can become a mutation of who we were originally meant to be.
Which gets me to wondering who I was meant to be. If everything else, environmentally, was "normal," whatever that is; well who would I have become? Silly question. It has no answer - yet once and again I wonder on it.
Each of us seeks basic needs; food, shelter, love. Love is defined by species - but it crosses the board. Some say love is enough to sustain you - even without food or shelter. Romantic notion, but false.
Love should not hurt. How often it does. My heart beating for another's love should not be wrong - but it is. No, love doesn't belong in genetic make up - still it comes from our basic survival skills. A bird, bear, reptile - each seeks love. Of course the form and depth are different - reckon the need is similar.
Closing a door - saying; "This is it!" I shall not need this person again. We shall not cross paths again - I can burn this bridge as I will not use it ever again. Ah, that never and always - two entities which do not exists. Perhaps, black holes only meant to trick us.
Life just does not work that way. At least, in my humble opinion, it does not work that way. Would it be easier if I could padlock doors - maybe - Matters not; it just is not something I can do.
Goodness, how long have I sought what society dictates as normal - only to achieve that "normal" then have random circumstance and incompetent bureaucracies render me clueless. Poof, there it goes.
I know I hang on way too long - believing in goodness of others. A theme which has pierced my heart so many dang times, one would think I would give it up. I won't.
I won't give up faith nor hope! I will not give up unicorns and mermaids. Love's power and laughter's healing strength - I am going to keep these with me. Yes, I am wiser. Nothing should surprise me - though it does. When someone else exhibits behaviors I could not even imagine - I am surprised. I know I should not be.
You may consider my behavior defeating myself. Putting myself behind the 8 ball, then asking why? That is OK, I often ask myself "Why?" That question harkens back a long, long, long, way - it is one no one can answer. Asking why is, at some point, something we all do.
I cannot be faded. I bought a hat, back in 1987 - the words; "You Can't Fade Me" were on that hat. I did not know what they meant - only knew they somehow rang true to how I felt. Turns out in gang "slang" the expression means you can't kill me, and if you kill me, one of my fellow gang members will avenge my death. In other LGBT speak, it meant - we will not disappear - no matter how much you try to erase us - we will not go away. What was the chant; "We're here, we're queer, get used to it."
Personally, I felt the phrase represented my resiliency. Taking what life gave me and still remaining vibrant. You can't fade me. So when others burned a bridge or closed a door - their choice - it did not "fade" my color. It did not fade my presence in their life. I stood strong on every river bank, and close to every door.
It would be cool if we could figure some of this stuff out before we hit the gates of heaven. Who knows, maybe we do...though I am still stretching and learning - still losing and mourning - you can't fade me. No matter how far down I have fallen. No matter how dark my days may be - I know - without a doubt - my little light will shine. I won't fade.
Might come a day when bridges can be rebuilt and doors unlocked - or maybe not. Either way forgive me if I appear naïve; forgive me if I believe in love - give me a pass because I will hold hope for a long, long, long, time. It all makes me a little softer than you might perhaps like me to be - reckon it makes me, me - something in here must speak to you - might just be 'cause I will believe way longer than I probably should.
Nope, I can't just burn a bridge or close a door - sometimes I wish I could. I do hear what y'all are saying. Whether it is genetic or environment, I am just not wired that way. I only need adjust - I can do that. If someone finds themselves on banks of a raging river I will lay me down - or if someone is stuck in the funny house tumbler...I will shine a light.
Just me being me; only way I know how.
Same with closing doors. Entering the "funny house" life so often is - should I close and lock a door; then find myself on the outside with no combination to get back in?
I know folks who are able to do this. I know folks who must do this. I know folks who choose to do this - and I know me.
Odd isn't it; how we are shaped by so many external factors - add in genetics - we can become a mutation of who we were originally meant to be.
Which gets me to wondering who I was meant to be. If everything else, environmentally, was "normal," whatever that is; well who would I have become? Silly question. It has no answer - yet once and again I wonder on it.
Each of us seeks basic needs; food, shelter, love. Love is defined by species - but it crosses the board. Some say love is enough to sustain you - even without food or shelter. Romantic notion, but false.
Love should not hurt. How often it does. My heart beating for another's love should not be wrong - but it is. No, love doesn't belong in genetic make up - still it comes from our basic survival skills. A bird, bear, reptile - each seeks love. Of course the form and depth are different - reckon the need is similar.
Closing a door - saying; "This is it!" I shall not need this person again. We shall not cross paths again - I can burn this bridge as I will not use it ever again. Ah, that never and always - two entities which do not exists. Perhaps, black holes only meant to trick us.
Life just does not work that way. At least, in my humble opinion, it does not work that way. Would it be easier if I could padlock doors - maybe - Matters not; it just is not something I can do.
Goodness, how long have I sought what society dictates as normal - only to achieve that "normal" then have random circumstance and incompetent bureaucracies render me clueless. Poof, there it goes.
I know I hang on way too long - believing in goodness of others. A theme which has pierced my heart so many dang times, one would think I would give it up. I won't.
I won't give up faith nor hope! I will not give up unicorns and mermaids. Love's power and laughter's healing strength - I am going to keep these with me. Yes, I am wiser. Nothing should surprise me - though it does. When someone else exhibits behaviors I could not even imagine - I am surprised. I know I should not be.
You may consider my behavior defeating myself. Putting myself behind the 8 ball, then asking why? That is OK, I often ask myself "Why?" That question harkens back a long, long, long, way - it is one no one can answer. Asking why is, at some point, something we all do.
I cannot be faded. I bought a hat, back in 1987 - the words; "You Can't Fade Me" were on that hat. I did not know what they meant - only knew they somehow rang true to how I felt. Turns out in gang "slang" the expression means you can't kill me, and if you kill me, one of my fellow gang members will avenge my death. In other LGBT speak, it meant - we will not disappear - no matter how much you try to erase us - we will not go away. What was the chant; "We're here, we're queer, get used to it."
Personally, I felt the phrase represented my resiliency. Taking what life gave me and still remaining vibrant. You can't fade me. So when others burned a bridge or closed a door - their choice - it did not "fade" my color. It did not fade my presence in their life. I stood strong on every river bank, and close to every door.
It would be cool if we could figure some of this stuff out before we hit the gates of heaven. Who knows, maybe we do...though I am still stretching and learning - still losing and mourning - you can't fade me. No matter how far down I have fallen. No matter how dark my days may be - I know - without a doubt - my little light will shine. I won't fade.
Might come a day when bridges can be rebuilt and doors unlocked - or maybe not. Either way forgive me if I appear naïve; forgive me if I believe in love - give me a pass because I will hold hope for a long, long, long, time. It all makes me a little softer than you might perhaps like me to be - reckon it makes me, me - something in here must speak to you - might just be 'cause I will believe way longer than I probably should.
Nope, I can't just burn a bridge or close a door - sometimes I wish I could. I do hear what y'all are saying. Whether it is genetic or environment, I am just not wired that way. I only need adjust - I can do that. If someone finds themselves on banks of a raging river I will lay me down - or if someone is stuck in the funny house tumbler...I will shine a light.
Just me being me; only way I know how.
Friday, July 18, 2014
Boyhood-The Movie
The draw for this movie is it was filmed over
12 years of "real time." Of those 12 years it was edited to 3 hours. That is a lot of years condensed into what is, by today's standards, a long movie.
The writer, director, and producer cast his daughter in one of three main characters. When I perused reviews and such-casting his daughter seemed a bit controversial. I do not understand why folks feel a parent should not give advantage to their children. Is that not part of the "American Dream?" As a parent, you work hard hoping you can make your child's life better. Nepotism is sensible. In this case, Lorelei-well she was excellent. So her dad gave her a chance and she hit a home run.
Patricia Arquette is the mother of two children. A girl, and two years younger, a boy. While "Boyhood" is the title of the movie-it could easily have been titled, "Motherhood." Arquette's character filled this movie.
The boy, whose real name I don't recall-well, for me anyway-he tried hard to stand out, he was grasping for something profound, trying to become a lone wolf. Ironically, (and this is just my take on things) his desire for profoundness made him ordinary. The mother's quest to be ordinary, made her stand out.
Sometimes I encounter a piece of art, written, painting, design...whatever, and I just don't get it. While many are speaking about beauty, intensity, extrodinary-I am standing there scratching my head. I wonder what am I missing that everyone else sees. One time I was in a store where they sold those computer generated paintings-you know the kind you look at long enough until you see it is not a animals in a zoo, it is actually, constellations in a winter sky. So, I am looking at this picture and I see nothing-nada-blank to me. Several folks started to join me in deciphering what was hidden. So I just started to shake my head up and down-quietly giggling in to myself. "Do you see it?" Someone asked. "Yes," I replied. I did not see a darn thing. I went on to point out the beautiful sea-scape amongst all those dots.
Sure enough, one by one, folks gathered there started pointing out details in my made up interpretation of this picture. My point, and I did start with one! Ah, yes, my point-sometimes when we don't "get it" we fake the funk. Then other folks, also unable to grasp an artistic concept, they join in.
Reckon this is my take on "Boyhood." I didn't "get it." I would have titled it "Bad Choices 101." Would believe movie was about an adult expecting different result even though she, (the mother) kept making the same bad choices.
There is one thought this movie has left me to chew on-Mother and Son lived parallel lives. Other than giving birth-mother and son lived without their lives ever intersecting. The daughter and mother, their lives intersected back and forth-back and forth. Mother and son had one point of contact. Which is more evidence supporting my thesis; donating sperm or serving as a host-these do not make anyone a parent. Vise-versa...an individual becomes a parent even if physicogically they did not contribute.
12 years of "real time." Of those 12 years it was edited to 3 hours. That is a lot of years condensed into what is, by today's standards, a long movie.
The writer, director, and producer cast his daughter in one of three main characters. When I perused reviews and such-casting his daughter seemed a bit controversial. I do not understand why folks feel a parent should not give advantage to their children. Is that not part of the "American Dream?" As a parent, you work hard hoping you can make your child's life better. Nepotism is sensible. In this case, Lorelei-well she was excellent. So her dad gave her a chance and she hit a home run.
Patricia Arquette is the mother of two children. A girl, and two years younger, a boy. While "Boyhood" is the title of the movie-it could easily have been titled, "Motherhood." Arquette's character filled this movie.
The boy, whose real name I don't recall-well, for me anyway-he tried hard to stand out, he was grasping for something profound, trying to become a lone wolf. Ironically, (and this is just my take on things) his desire for profoundness made him ordinary. The mother's quest to be ordinary, made her stand out.
Sometimes I encounter a piece of art, written, painting, design...whatever, and I just don't get it. While many are speaking about beauty, intensity, extrodinary-I am standing there scratching my head. I wonder what am I missing that everyone else sees. One time I was in a store where they sold those computer generated paintings-you know the kind you look at long enough until you see it is not a animals in a zoo, it is actually, constellations in a winter sky. So, I am looking at this picture and I see nothing-nada-blank to me. Several folks started to join me in deciphering what was hidden. So I just started to shake my head up and down-quietly giggling in to myself. "Do you see it?" Someone asked. "Yes," I replied. I did not see a darn thing. I went on to point out the beautiful sea-scape amongst all those dots.
Sure enough, one by one, folks gathered there started pointing out details in my made up interpretation of this picture. My point, and I did start with one! Ah, yes, my point-sometimes when we don't "get it" we fake the funk. Then other folks, also unable to grasp an artistic concept, they join in.
Reckon this is my take on "Boyhood." I didn't "get it." I would have titled it "Bad Choices 101." Would believe movie was about an adult expecting different result even though she, (the mother) kept making the same bad choices.
There is one thought this movie has left me to chew on-Mother and Son lived parallel lives. Other than giving birth-mother and son lived without their lives ever intersecting. The daughter and mother, their lives intersected back and forth-back and forth. Mother and son had one point of contact. Which is more evidence supporting my thesis; donating sperm or serving as a host-these do not make anyone a parent. Vise-versa...an individual becomes a parent even if physicogically they did not contribute.
Monday, July 7, 2014
Just Thinking Out Loud...
There are words, once they leave our mouths, we really wish we could take back. Other times, we said what we meant, though our intention was not to hurt. And yes, sometimes we say some nasty stuff and we mean every single syllable.
Ever feel amazed at the end of a rough day, you have any tongue left at all, because you have had to bite it so many times.
I am not one for political correctness. I do not believe in saying whatever pops into my head. There is a place in between.
So I ask myself; "Lisa, is saying this going to be of any help?' "Will it make anything better?" "Will my thoughts really matter?"
I go back to the adage - if you don't have something nice to say then just don't say anything. And still, with all my filters and rules of speaking I manage to say things which are taken in a manner of which I did not intend. That doesn't really matter though - what we intended doesn't matter, if the end result hurts someone.
Sometimes it feels there are so many filters my thoughts have to go through before I can allow words out of my mouth it is just easier to say nothing. However, sometimes we say the most when we say nothing at all.
Being of a behavioral background, I people watch. I watch mannerisms, tells, hair twirling, eye averting, lip licking, clenched fists, knee bobbing, foot tapping - and so on and so on - Thus, I am adept at reading a person's behavior and gaining insight into their thoughts.
For example, often times I laugh or make a joke at the wrong time - it is my defusing mechanism. However, if you don't know me you are likely to find this behavior annoying. Heck even if you do know me I probably annoy you anyway.
What was it Shakespeare said; "I think thee doth protest too much." Something like that anyway. This adamant protesting in and of itself causes me to wonder - and me wandering aimlessly in my own head wondering - well we all know not too much good can come of that.
These past few days I have contemplated words unspoken, trying to determine what is being said by not saying anything or by protesting too much. I end up right here...uncertain of message I should be getting. Then off inside my head I imagine every scenario, shake my head 'cause it doesn't make sense - then I write.
I write hoping if I put words down on paper, they will come alive and speak to me. These written words will gain me insight. Though I do wish people would say what they mean. Not be mean, just speak your truth. If your truth is just mean then keep it to yourself. How are we to solve anything if we can't have a fair and honest discourse. Exchange ideas without being mean. It is possible. I believe it possible.
Respect goes a long way. Common courtesy even farther. When you cannot display these two social skills, well, problems will arise. That is all I am asking for. Common courtesy and respect. Respect that was not given to me, respect that I earned. Common courtesies that were not applied to me, until I turned the other cheek so many times, folks just stopped slapping and began to give me the smallest amount of courtesy. That was cool.
It seems to me it takes more energy to display rude behavior than it takes to display courteous behavior. While speaking is just the opposite - cussing someone out is a lot easier than running it through a complete filtration system.
When people we love, people who claim to love us, display behavior contrary to their words - this is a big red flag. You know like someone shaking their head no while they are saying; "Oh yes I love you, I respect you. I am thankful for your presence in my life." Their words say one thing but that whole shaking your head from left to right instead of up and down - it is a bad tell if you play poker. I believe it a bad tell if you are trying to wriggle out of responsibility.
Heck I don't know. Reckon I am better off hidden from everyone. That way I don't cause any problems. Even when problems arise that have nothing to do with me, somehow I become the "goat." I am tired of that. I am tired of trying to fix everything, of taking the high road, turning the other cheek - Once told to me by the APEIS at Weemes; "Most people mistake kindness for weakness. Don't waste your time trying to be kind." Dang, that is sad. As a society are we really so self-absorbed, so narcissistic, so greedy, so mean?
Sad state of affairs if this is true. I am holding out hope. Reckon I will go out believing in goodness of others. However, I am nobody's doormat - so don't attempt to tread on me. That mess is just not going to fly; not anymore.
Ever feel amazed at the end of a rough day, you have any tongue left at all, because you have had to bite it so many times.
I am not one for political correctness. I do not believe in saying whatever pops into my head. There is a place in between.
So I ask myself; "Lisa, is saying this going to be of any help?' "Will it make anything better?" "Will my thoughts really matter?"
I go back to the adage - if you don't have something nice to say then just don't say anything. And still, with all my filters and rules of speaking I manage to say things which are taken in a manner of which I did not intend. That doesn't really matter though - what we intended doesn't matter, if the end result hurts someone.
Sometimes it feels there are so many filters my thoughts have to go through before I can allow words out of my mouth it is just easier to say nothing. However, sometimes we say the most when we say nothing at all.
Being of a behavioral background, I people watch. I watch mannerisms, tells, hair twirling, eye averting, lip licking, clenched fists, knee bobbing, foot tapping - and so on and so on - Thus, I am adept at reading a person's behavior and gaining insight into their thoughts.
For example, often times I laugh or make a joke at the wrong time - it is my defusing mechanism. However, if you don't know me you are likely to find this behavior annoying. Heck even if you do know me I probably annoy you anyway.
What was it Shakespeare said; "I think thee doth protest too much." Something like that anyway. This adamant protesting in and of itself causes me to wonder - and me wandering aimlessly in my own head wondering - well we all know not too much good can come of that.
These past few days I have contemplated words unspoken, trying to determine what is being said by not saying anything or by protesting too much. I end up right here...uncertain of message I should be getting. Then off inside my head I imagine every scenario, shake my head 'cause it doesn't make sense - then I write.
I write hoping if I put words down on paper, they will come alive and speak to me. These written words will gain me insight. Though I do wish people would say what they mean. Not be mean, just speak your truth. If your truth is just mean then keep it to yourself. How are we to solve anything if we can't have a fair and honest discourse. Exchange ideas without being mean. It is possible. I believe it possible.
Respect goes a long way. Common courtesy even farther. When you cannot display these two social skills, well, problems will arise. That is all I am asking for. Common courtesy and respect. Respect that was not given to me, respect that I earned. Common courtesies that were not applied to me, until I turned the other cheek so many times, folks just stopped slapping and began to give me the smallest amount of courtesy. That was cool.
It seems to me it takes more energy to display rude behavior than it takes to display courteous behavior. While speaking is just the opposite - cussing someone out is a lot easier than running it through a complete filtration system.
When people we love, people who claim to love us, display behavior contrary to their words - this is a big red flag. You know like someone shaking their head no while they are saying; "Oh yes I love you, I respect you. I am thankful for your presence in my life." Their words say one thing but that whole shaking your head from left to right instead of up and down - it is a bad tell if you play poker. I believe it a bad tell if you are trying to wriggle out of responsibility.
Heck I don't know. Reckon I am better off hidden from everyone. That way I don't cause any problems. Even when problems arise that have nothing to do with me, somehow I become the "goat." I am tired of that. I am tired of trying to fix everything, of taking the high road, turning the other cheek - Once told to me by the APEIS at Weemes; "Most people mistake kindness for weakness. Don't waste your time trying to be kind." Dang, that is sad. As a society are we really so self-absorbed, so narcissistic, so greedy, so mean?
Sad state of affairs if this is true. I am holding out hope. Reckon I will go out believing in goodness of others. However, I am nobody's doormat - so don't attempt to tread on me. That mess is just not going to fly; not anymore.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
How Do I Fill in the Blank?
Last week when I was at doctor's office I had to fill out standard paperwork. I came upon the question of "who to notify in case of an emergency." I did not know whose name to write down. I could not fill in that blank. It is a blank deep within my soul. It is a blank I am having a difficult time adjusting to.
This whole learning to live this different kind of life - it is not as glamorous as one might think. Footloose and fancy free; yup that is me. Problem is, I have pretty much spent entirety of my life looking to find places to belong. School, sports, clubs, friends, lovers, partners - trying to build a family to which I belong. Don't get me wrong - I know I am loved and I am blessed. I am not complaining just wondering how to fill in the blank.
Reckon it might take a while for me to figure it all out. Nope certainly not where I expected to be - yet here I am so I get on with living. That is what I can do. I can leave a blank space for now. Don't notify anyone - well, maybe Zuko. He would want to know where I was.
It really is just freaking weird. Traversed so many valleys, up so many mountains, across so many rivers - arriving here. Just didn't see it coming. No one does. No one sees a catastrophe coming. It arrives first then insinuates itself into every corner of your world.
Shucks by the time you figure it out, it is just a little too late.
Really thought I had done things right so I would not be in such a position. But I forgot to remember, no matter what I do I cannot control what anyone else does. So even if I did everything expertly, exquisitely, perfectly - well, even then there are no guarantees. We spin that big wheel and hope for double digits winnings
This is not a pity party - I am just thinking out loud. It is more of a forensic dig; looking for artifacts pre-2008 and looking for cracks that became crevices - that whole infrastructure failure which is plaguing our country. Bridges, ducts, roadways, waterways - all large slabs of concrete and steel which are outdated. Hence Katrina, and Minnesota - and wherever the next big collapse is.
It is not just objects which are cracking and falling apart. Our families are also suffering from infrastructure failure. This means our children are less prepared for school. Thus our schools are failing because they were not built for the weight they now must hold.
In essence one small crack in any dam will eventually lead to a fissure, to a hole, to a break - and out to sea will towns and cities and people go. Fragile as families appear; with hard economic times, unemployment, disenfranchised and marginalized - tiny cracks become vacuums. Ozzie and Harriet would not survive in times such as these.
Seemed such a normal and achievable dream - fall in love, have children, buy a house, live happily ever after. The dream, the American dream - us gay and lesbian folks we share that same vision. We also share arguing over money, how to raise children, who is the gardener, and who is the gatherer - we also share divorce. Sucks for all of us.
More alike than different yet it is our differences which are plastered on magazine covers. How silly is that? Not fame, nor money, nor a whole jar of honey can fix this kind of broke.
Yet we get up and we go at it again. We get up hoping we can catch lightening in a bottle. We get up because that is what we do. Filled with hope, holding on to that American Dream - we move forward. We hold our head up as high as we can and we keep marching on.
That blank line is a hiccup. It is a bee sting. It will pass.
This whole learning to live this different kind of life - it is not as glamorous as one might think. Footloose and fancy free; yup that is me. Problem is, I have pretty much spent entirety of my life looking to find places to belong. School, sports, clubs, friends, lovers, partners - trying to build a family to which I belong. Don't get me wrong - I know I am loved and I am blessed. I am not complaining just wondering how to fill in the blank.
Reckon it might take a while for me to figure it all out. Nope certainly not where I expected to be - yet here I am so I get on with living. That is what I can do. I can leave a blank space for now. Don't notify anyone - well, maybe Zuko. He would want to know where I was.
It really is just freaking weird. Traversed so many valleys, up so many mountains, across so many rivers - arriving here. Just didn't see it coming. No one does. No one sees a catastrophe coming. It arrives first then insinuates itself into every corner of your world.
Shucks by the time you figure it out, it is just a little too late.
Really thought I had done things right so I would not be in such a position. But I forgot to remember, no matter what I do I cannot control what anyone else does. So even if I did everything expertly, exquisitely, perfectly - well, even then there are no guarantees. We spin that big wheel and hope for double digits winnings
This is not a pity party - I am just thinking out loud. It is more of a forensic dig; looking for artifacts pre-2008 and looking for cracks that became crevices - that whole infrastructure failure which is plaguing our country. Bridges, ducts, roadways, waterways - all large slabs of concrete and steel which are outdated. Hence Katrina, and Minnesota - and wherever the next big collapse is.
It is not just objects which are cracking and falling apart. Our families are also suffering from infrastructure failure. This means our children are less prepared for school. Thus our schools are failing because they were not built for the weight they now must hold.
In essence one small crack in any dam will eventually lead to a fissure, to a hole, to a break - and out to sea will towns and cities and people go. Fragile as families appear; with hard economic times, unemployment, disenfranchised and marginalized - tiny cracks become vacuums. Ozzie and Harriet would not survive in times such as these.
Seemed such a normal and achievable dream - fall in love, have children, buy a house, live happily ever after. The dream, the American dream - us gay and lesbian folks we share that same vision. We also share arguing over money, how to raise children, who is the gardener, and who is the gatherer - we also share divorce. Sucks for all of us.
More alike than different yet it is our differences which are plastered on magazine covers. How silly is that? Not fame, nor money, nor a whole jar of honey can fix this kind of broke.
Yet we get up and we go at it again. We get up hoping we can catch lightening in a bottle. We get up because that is what we do. Filled with hope, holding on to that American Dream - we move forward. We hold our head up as high as we can and we keep marching on.
That blank line is a hiccup. It is a bee sting. It will pass.
Sunday, June 29, 2014
ANGER
Don't know what stage of grieving is stage of ANGER. I know it is in there somewhere. ANGER frightens me. ANGER leads to violence. I am opposed to violence. Violence frightens me.
We are socialized to suppress our ANGER. It is not appropriate for a young lady to yell and scream. ANGER has no place in a fine young woman's life. Bull! Seriously, who started that line of thinking?
Swallowed a lot of ANGER in my life. Can't say that got me anywhere. This brings me back to Dixie Chick song; "I am not ready to make nice." This is how I feel. I can't say what it is you want to hear. I cannot be the person you want me to be. My life was turned upside down - no, I don't like it; I am just trying to right the ship.
Funny, as I was writing this right now, Dixie Chicks song started playing on my iPod. I think it has a chip in my brain. Time heals everything. No it doesn't. We heal as far as we are able to. Not everything gets better. Oh sure, things change, people change - circumstances change - but better...NOPE!
This life I am trying to reshape, I will make it absolutely the best life I can. This does not mean that I am not still mad as hell!
Funny how many folks will climb aboard your train when the tracks are clear. Should a derailment occur, see them scurry; or worse yet - watch them push trying to completely knock your car into a ravine.
ANGER is something we all feel. Some folks handle so much better than others. Some just keep swallowing hard and turning the other cheek. Reckon I fall into the latter category. Also reckon it isn't sitting so well, that ball of fire in my belly.
I want to climb a mountain and just shout until I am hoarse. Shout until exhaustion takes me down to my knees. Shout until I can puke out 50 years of anger. I don't do that right? Not me, not Lisa. Maybe who I was before but I am not the same. My soul has not changed - my heart broken, my body failing, betrayals so unthinkable...Mommie said my greatest strength was my faith in the goodness of others. She also said it was my biggest weakness.
I could not imagine people, my people betraying me, because I could not imagine betraying them. Does that make sense? It was implausible. All of it was so beyond my comprehension. Of course Mommie also said I had a good face for radio.
Promises are only words. Words we speak and we mean, until we don't. How often do we just admit that? Hey, look I am sorry I promised you this; I just can't deliver. Fricken A! Just be honest.
No one wants to be the bad guy. No one wants to appear to have bailed. At least when Eileen splayed me across my kitchen it was honest. Better to die by one fell swoop then to slowly bleed out. And here I am - Miss Believe in The Goodness of Others. How many times did y'all think I was just a fool?
I wasn't a fool. I knew. I knew. I knew! I have always known. Most of my life folks have underestimated me. I don't need bright lights and a stage. I don't need a spot light. What is my favorite phrase? Come on you remember; Don't mistake activity for achievement.
I was not fooling myself. No one was pulling the wool over my eyes. ANGER kept me from speaking. ANGER prevented me from putting on a defense. ANGER leads to violence. Keep the peace. This is what Lisa does. She keeps the peace. Lisa serves others. Lisa turns the other cheek.
Well she did. I don't know if she will continue to keep the peace. She might just pick up that snow globe and shake the living day lights out of it! If achievement was not enough, if loyalty was not enough, if compassion, kindness, unconditional love, support...if all of that wasn't enough - perhaps I must resort to activity! If y'all need to see activity I can give it to you. Just be careful what you wish for!
An easy mark. That is what so many of you saw. Beaten, bruised, weakened - that was your chance. Not all started pushing my cart off that rail - some did. Shame on you! Shame on those of you who felt better because you found an out clause in which you were absolved of your promises!
Why do we do that to one another? How can we do that to one another? I don't understand a purposeful action towards destruction of another person's life. I don't understand climbing on someone's back so I can appear taller. Kicking someone when they are down!
ANGER frightens me. ANGER leads to violence. Violence serves no purpose. It is OK to feel ANGER. We need an outlet for our ANGER. Otherwise it just builds up and up and up; then one day we are gook and other stuff just splattered on a wall.
Quick many folks dismissed me. Don't think I did not know! Don't believe I was so far into that darkness that I did not know. You did not play me. Your activity means nothing when compared to my accomplishment. My soul remains as it always was. You compromised your souls. I will pray for you.
Though I am not there yet - I will arrive. Don't know how it will look or where "there" is. Be sure I will find it. When I do be certain I will still believe in the goodness of others. I will still believe love lasts forever. I will still know laughter is a darn good medicine. What I give away I have never lost. Most importantly, I will not have compromised my promises.
ANGER frightens me. Now it is a solid wall I have to get over, around, or through. I will find a way. Though I won't do so with a marching band and dancers putting on a show. There will be no three ring circus to distract you. My achievement will come just as quietly as each promise I made to you. Steadfast and true. Solid and consistent.
ANGER frightens me...not being true to my soul; that scares me much more. Just remember me.
We are socialized to suppress our ANGER. It is not appropriate for a young lady to yell and scream. ANGER has no place in a fine young woman's life. Bull! Seriously, who started that line of thinking?
Swallowed a lot of ANGER in my life. Can't say that got me anywhere. This brings me back to Dixie Chick song; "I am not ready to make nice." This is how I feel. I can't say what it is you want to hear. I cannot be the person you want me to be. My life was turned upside down - no, I don't like it; I am just trying to right the ship.
Funny, as I was writing this right now, Dixie Chicks song started playing on my iPod. I think it has a chip in my brain. Time heals everything. No it doesn't. We heal as far as we are able to. Not everything gets better. Oh sure, things change, people change - circumstances change - but better...NOPE!
This life I am trying to reshape, I will make it absolutely the best life I can. This does not mean that I am not still mad as hell!
Funny how many folks will climb aboard your train when the tracks are clear. Should a derailment occur, see them scurry; or worse yet - watch them push trying to completely knock your car into a ravine.
ANGER is something we all feel. Some folks handle so much better than others. Some just keep swallowing hard and turning the other cheek. Reckon I fall into the latter category. Also reckon it isn't sitting so well, that ball of fire in my belly.
I want to climb a mountain and just shout until I am hoarse. Shout until exhaustion takes me down to my knees. Shout until I can puke out 50 years of anger. I don't do that right? Not me, not Lisa. Maybe who I was before but I am not the same. My soul has not changed - my heart broken, my body failing, betrayals so unthinkable...Mommie said my greatest strength was my faith in the goodness of others. She also said it was my biggest weakness.
I could not imagine people, my people betraying me, because I could not imagine betraying them. Does that make sense? It was implausible. All of it was so beyond my comprehension. Of course Mommie also said I had a good face for radio.
Promises are only words. Words we speak and we mean, until we don't. How often do we just admit that? Hey, look I am sorry I promised you this; I just can't deliver. Fricken A! Just be honest.
No one wants to be the bad guy. No one wants to appear to have bailed. At least when Eileen splayed me across my kitchen it was honest. Better to die by one fell swoop then to slowly bleed out. And here I am - Miss Believe in The Goodness of Others. How many times did y'all think I was just a fool?
I wasn't a fool. I knew. I knew. I knew! I have always known. Most of my life folks have underestimated me. I don't need bright lights and a stage. I don't need a spot light. What is my favorite phrase? Come on you remember; Don't mistake activity for achievement.
I was not fooling myself. No one was pulling the wool over my eyes. ANGER kept me from speaking. ANGER prevented me from putting on a defense. ANGER leads to violence. Keep the peace. This is what Lisa does. She keeps the peace. Lisa serves others. Lisa turns the other cheek.
Well she did. I don't know if she will continue to keep the peace. She might just pick up that snow globe and shake the living day lights out of it! If achievement was not enough, if loyalty was not enough, if compassion, kindness, unconditional love, support...if all of that wasn't enough - perhaps I must resort to activity! If y'all need to see activity I can give it to you. Just be careful what you wish for!
An easy mark. That is what so many of you saw. Beaten, bruised, weakened - that was your chance. Not all started pushing my cart off that rail - some did. Shame on you! Shame on those of you who felt better because you found an out clause in which you were absolved of your promises!
Why do we do that to one another? How can we do that to one another? I don't understand a purposeful action towards destruction of another person's life. I don't understand climbing on someone's back so I can appear taller. Kicking someone when they are down!
ANGER frightens me. ANGER leads to violence. Violence serves no purpose. It is OK to feel ANGER. We need an outlet for our ANGER. Otherwise it just builds up and up and up; then one day we are gook and other stuff just splattered on a wall.
Quick many folks dismissed me. Don't think I did not know! Don't believe I was so far into that darkness that I did not know. You did not play me. Your activity means nothing when compared to my accomplishment. My soul remains as it always was. You compromised your souls. I will pray for you.
Though I am not there yet - I will arrive. Don't know how it will look or where "there" is. Be sure I will find it. When I do be certain I will still believe in the goodness of others. I will still believe love lasts forever. I will still know laughter is a darn good medicine. What I give away I have never lost. Most importantly, I will not have compromised my promises.
ANGER frightens me. Now it is a solid wall I have to get over, around, or through. I will find a way. Though I won't do so with a marching band and dancers putting on a show. There will be no three ring circus to distract you. My achievement will come just as quietly as each promise I made to you. Steadfast and true. Solid and consistent.
ANGER frightens me...not being true to my soul; that scares me much more. Just remember me.
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Sum of These Parts
Have you ever heard song by Dixie Chicks; the one written in response to death threats and hate mail their lead singer received after making a political statement during a concert. I do not remember her name. Anyhow, she said something referencing a war for oil. The ensuing response was really amazing. Radio Stations banned Dixie Chicks from play lists. They received death threats. President W. Bush even commented on the comment.
It is not uncommon for an entertainment person to use that platform as a means to express their political beliefs. We all have a right to free speech. So, when an entertainer makes political talk, they have that right.
Pro-athletes do the same thing. Our society places athletes up on pedestals. However, as Charles Barkley once said; "I am no role model. I am professional basketball player, but I am no role model."
We should not place any more value nor react with any greater outrage when someone in the spotlight speaks. It is their right. If we don't agree then we do not have to listen. It is difficult for me to comprehend why, when we take offense at what an athlete says or does everyone seems to freak out. In Dixie Chicks case - don't buy their music.
Money speaks louder than words. I don't buy products made by the Coors Brewing Co. because I do not agree with their political agenda; best way I can respond is spend my money else where. Sure I could write a letter to their president or CEO. A letter read by some intern in the basement. Then logged, shredded, and perhaps receive a auto generated response. Some folks picketed outside Coors headquarters. Ok if that works for you.
We choose what we purchase. As I said earlier; money speaks louder than words. Reckon it might be best way to make a political statement without uttering a single word. One individual, such as myself, my pittance will not make or break any corporation, entertainer, athlete - it is an avenue I can walk down with a sense I am maintaining my political and religious ideology.
Political correctness is too dang exhausting. One day it is ok to use one word, next day it is a slur. Look people in the eye, no avert your eyes - no yellow on Thursdays - yellow is now ok on Thursdays. Who can keep up? Do we need to?
Whatever happened to a simple notion like - let's say - do onto others as you would have done onto you. Or maybe - nothing given is ever lost. We could go with an oldie but a goody - it is nice to share. The energy you put out is returned to you. Others will treat you as you treat them. It really is all the stuff you learned in kindergarten. And we seem so darned lost. This stuff has been drilled into us since we were born. What happens when we get older; how do we just forget everything our Momma's taught us?
Which is bringing me back to my "just be" entry from the other day. Why are we so darned afraid to allow others to "just be?" Why are we so caught up with bigger is better? If we take care of ourselves causing no one else discomfort or harm - well, isn't that alright? Just be who you are where you are. Surround yourself with folks who are equally accepting. Maybe your circle has only two or three people. There is no quota that needs to be reached. Everything we do does not require astounding numbers.
If an athlete, entertainer, politician...any one who has five minutes of fame - if the words coming out of their mouths bother you - don't listen. Just be yourself, just don't listen - don't support corporations whose political or religious agenda's go against your own. Support those who you agree with. Purchase their product; whether it music, beer, fast food restaurant, or game jerseys.
Come on folks we are smarter than this...we are more evolved - we are aren't we? This then brings me to conclusion of today's soapbox meanderings - some of the parts are bent, rusted, worn down - some of the parts are new, resilient, refined. Combined, all of the parts make us go. Some of the parts are not pretty - yet, all of the parts together are beautiful. Some of the parts are rather twisted, yet all of the parts are calm.
This is true for each of us. I think we might be overthinking things. If we exist in kindess, generosity, servitude, spiritualness, treating others as we would ourselves be treated. If we shared our cookies and milk - if we allowed ourselves acceptance of who we are - if we just let us be - just be. Life would be so darn beautiful we would want to get up in the morning. We would make a big fuss about opening this day, this beautiful gift. Just be - I don't know, can we rise to such a level of Zen in which we could just be? Could we become so calm in ourselves we might allow others to just be? Two words might express a state of existence so profoundly peaceful we should have them tattooed on our hand and chant them all the day through.
Just be - it is growing on me.
It is not uncommon for an entertainment person to use that platform as a means to express their political beliefs. We all have a right to free speech. So, when an entertainer makes political talk, they have that right.
Pro-athletes do the same thing. Our society places athletes up on pedestals. However, as Charles Barkley once said; "I am no role model. I am professional basketball player, but I am no role model."
We should not place any more value nor react with any greater outrage when someone in the spotlight speaks. It is their right. If we don't agree then we do not have to listen. It is difficult for me to comprehend why, when we take offense at what an athlete says or does everyone seems to freak out. In Dixie Chicks case - don't buy their music.
Money speaks louder than words. I don't buy products made by the Coors Brewing Co. because I do not agree with their political agenda; best way I can respond is spend my money else where. Sure I could write a letter to their president or CEO. A letter read by some intern in the basement. Then logged, shredded, and perhaps receive a auto generated response. Some folks picketed outside Coors headquarters. Ok if that works for you.
We choose what we purchase. As I said earlier; money speaks louder than words. Reckon it might be best way to make a political statement without uttering a single word. One individual, such as myself, my pittance will not make or break any corporation, entertainer, athlete - it is an avenue I can walk down with a sense I am maintaining my political and religious ideology.
Political correctness is too dang exhausting. One day it is ok to use one word, next day it is a slur. Look people in the eye, no avert your eyes - no yellow on Thursdays - yellow is now ok on Thursdays. Who can keep up? Do we need to?
Whatever happened to a simple notion like - let's say - do onto others as you would have done onto you. Or maybe - nothing given is ever lost. We could go with an oldie but a goody - it is nice to share. The energy you put out is returned to you. Others will treat you as you treat them. It really is all the stuff you learned in kindergarten. And we seem so darned lost. This stuff has been drilled into us since we were born. What happens when we get older; how do we just forget everything our Momma's taught us?
Which is bringing me back to my "just be" entry from the other day. Why are we so darned afraid to allow others to "just be?" Why are we so caught up with bigger is better? If we take care of ourselves causing no one else discomfort or harm - well, isn't that alright? Just be who you are where you are. Surround yourself with folks who are equally accepting. Maybe your circle has only two or three people. There is no quota that needs to be reached. Everything we do does not require astounding numbers.
If an athlete, entertainer, politician...any one who has five minutes of fame - if the words coming out of their mouths bother you - don't listen. Just be yourself, just don't listen - don't support corporations whose political or religious agenda's go against your own. Support those who you agree with. Purchase their product; whether it music, beer, fast food restaurant, or game jerseys.
Come on folks we are smarter than this...we are more evolved - we are aren't we? This then brings me to conclusion of today's soapbox meanderings - some of the parts are bent, rusted, worn down - some of the parts are new, resilient, refined. Combined, all of the parts make us go. Some of the parts are not pretty - yet, all of the parts together are beautiful. Some of the parts are rather twisted, yet all of the parts are calm.
This is true for each of us. I think we might be overthinking things. If we exist in kindess, generosity, servitude, spiritualness, treating others as we would ourselves be treated. If we shared our cookies and milk - if we allowed ourselves acceptance of who we are - if we just let us be - just be. Life would be so darn beautiful we would want to get up in the morning. We would make a big fuss about opening this day, this beautiful gift. Just be - I don't know, can we rise to such a level of Zen in which we could just be? Could we become so calm in ourselves we might allow others to just be? Two words might express a state of existence so profoundly peaceful we should have them tattooed on our hand and chant them all the day through.
Just be - it is growing on me.
Monday, June 23, 2014
Just BE
Let it be - that was a Beetles' song wasn't it? Was pondering this thought yesterday. Actually, watching an episode of Breaking Amish. There are many Amish folks around Malone. Also, down in PA where Rosie and Herbie lived.
Folks who left Amish community and then shunned from their community. A young man in love with a non-Amish woman; she has cancer. Boy's Mother does not like the girl. Father and Mother left Amish community because their children left. The father said; "They are my children I love them no matter what."
It is an interesting show. I find it remarkable that older folks - parents, were willing to walk away from everything in support of their children.
This young man wanted to marry this woman. He went to a pawn shop; traded a homemade Amish quilt for a ring. The girl said no. She could not marry him because she did not know if she was going to live.
His parents, and this woman how unselfish they were.
Then I watched show with all those children, followed by Sister Wives. Not my usual Sunday night but Food Network was all Chopped reruns.
Back to my point - I do have one somewhere up here in my head. We need to accept others for who they are. We need to be just who we are. We really do need to "Let it Be." The woman who had cancer said something about she did not want to be the cause for other people's pain and worry. Of course we cannot control what others feel. It is of this concept though where we have to find a place in ourselves where others can just "be."
This concept is still forming. Like Jello it is just now water and sand. Needs to sit in my head a bit before it congeals into something of substance.
Do you know what I mean though? Loving someone may bring us to a point where we worry about them - however, that worry is ours to carry.
Let us be - it is a good idea. If you are happy, comfortable, content, even just to lazy to move; if you are OK with that then just be that! If you are not hurting anyone; well I reckon you can "BE" whomever you are.
The idea we must go out into this world, strive for a penthouse, top job, CEO - whatever. Why? If you are good with where you are then just stay there. Be what fits you. Don't understand how it came to pass that being who you were was not enough.
The Purpose Driven Life - that is just fine. Our purpose can be self contained. It is just fine to stay put. Moving is good; You don't have to move miles...move 10 steps.
It is just fine!
I don't know - I need to think on this some more. Just seems to me being whomever you are - doing whatever makes your socks jump up and down - Someone has to work at Del Taco. Same as someone has to run Exon Mobil Gasoline.
Would be nice if we all found our bliss. If we knew, truly felt calm by ourselves or if we could be "still" long enough to hear silence.
Folks who left Amish community and then shunned from their community. A young man in love with a non-Amish woman; she has cancer. Boy's Mother does not like the girl. Father and Mother left Amish community because their children left. The father said; "They are my children I love them no matter what."
It is an interesting show. I find it remarkable that older folks - parents, were willing to walk away from everything in support of their children.
This young man wanted to marry this woman. He went to a pawn shop; traded a homemade Amish quilt for a ring. The girl said no. She could not marry him because she did not know if she was going to live.
His parents, and this woman how unselfish they were.
Then I watched show with all those children, followed by Sister Wives. Not my usual Sunday night but Food Network was all Chopped reruns.
Back to my point - I do have one somewhere up here in my head. We need to accept others for who they are. We need to be just who we are. We really do need to "Let it Be." The woman who had cancer said something about she did not want to be the cause for other people's pain and worry. Of course we cannot control what others feel. It is of this concept though where we have to find a place in ourselves where others can just "be."
This concept is still forming. Like Jello it is just now water and sand. Needs to sit in my head a bit before it congeals into something of substance.
Do you know what I mean though? Loving someone may bring us to a point where we worry about them - however, that worry is ours to carry.
Let us be - it is a good idea. If you are happy, comfortable, content, even just to lazy to move; if you are OK with that then just be that! If you are not hurting anyone; well I reckon you can "BE" whomever you are.
The idea we must go out into this world, strive for a penthouse, top job, CEO - whatever. Why? If you are good with where you are then just stay there. Be what fits you. Don't understand how it came to pass that being who you were was not enough.
The Purpose Driven Life - that is just fine. Our purpose can be self contained. It is just fine to stay put. Moving is good; You don't have to move miles...move 10 steps.
It is just fine!
I don't know - I need to think on this some more. Just seems to me being whomever you are - doing whatever makes your socks jump up and down - Someone has to work at Del Taco. Same as someone has to run Exon Mobil Gasoline.
Would be nice if we all found our bliss. If we knew, truly felt calm by ourselves or if we could be "still" long enough to hear silence.
Thursday, June 19, 2014
WHY?
Ever count the number of times "WHY" comes out of your mouth or runs through your head? Toddlers ask "Why" all the time. Sometimes it is cute; "Why is the sky blue?" Sometimes it is utterly frustrating; "Why do I have to eat my peas?" And still there are times when a child's question of "why" opens our eyes to how absolutely amazing our universe is.
Adolescents who ask "why" might bring frustration: "Why can't I go to the party?" "Why do I have to take out the trash?" Man, adolescents have many "why" questions. We adults have no answers.
In days of late, I have witnessed many dear friends having to endure such hardship and trials. One day when Zuko and I were walking I was screaming to God; "WHY?" God did not respond. He doesn't when I scream.
In the course of this day reckon I asked "why" a couple dozen times. For all my asking - I have no answers. Remember that Dianetics dude who wrote a book about why bad things happen to good people - just a by the way - there are several cities here in LA now complete Dianetics campuses. They are everywhere.
He did not know "why" bad things happen to good people anymore than you or I. He, like so many others, found words which offered an out. Here is a map, a guide, a program, which if you follow nothing bad will ever happen to you. We all know this is BS. Life happens! And life sometimes just really is unfair. We don't get the answers. If you are lucky, you have belief in a higher power.
I remember Daddy Pat insisting we go to church. Oh, how I complained. I asked "Why." How many times since being a child I have given thanks to Daddy Pat for taking me to church. My faith, belief in a higher power, belief in heaven - each ritual of Catholicism - how they have comforted me. How this faith blanketed me, kept me warm - safe; during so many cold dark days.
Heck I don't know "why." Right now I have several dear friends who are experiencing hardship and struggles. It seems so arbitrary and unfair - I ask and ask and ask; "WHY?" There are no answers. There is no reason bad things happen to good people. I do not believe in a vengeful God who would send unthinkable suffering to wonderful people.
What does that leave us with? Without any concrete answers our questions are similar to dried dandelions we pick, blow upon, and make wishes. Candles on a birthday cake all blown out, wish kept secret so it may come true. We move forward as best we can. Often filled with frustration because we cannot do anything to change what is happening. Anger because what is happening appears so unfair and we want it to stop.
There does come a moment - a moment I have referred to as finding your "stillness." It is fleeting. It is hard to grasp. Hard to find. Getting to "stillness" requires us to reach out, look within, find a point of focus - "Stillness" comes to us only through hope, faith, and love. Man we have difficulty in getting there. If we can though - if we can just have one minute of "stillness." One moment when an out of control world stops spinning; then we garner enough strength to make it through another day.
Nope, we can ask "why" but we won't know any answers. I don't have any answers - man I wish I did. In lieu of something profound I offer only my soul's words; "Fear Not for you are never alone. This mountain will lead you to a vista so profoundly beautiful it will take your breath away. Tomorrow will arrive. It might suck worse than today. Possible it could be just a bit better. Do not be afraid of your anger. Giving voice to your anger is often a good thing. If you don't move, this too is just fine. Your holding pattern may only be time for your road ahead to be paved so you can travel it more easily. Don't give in and don't give up. Within each of us is a spirit of strength so deep. And I, I write my simple words. Share my simple thoughts. I am with you. I am with you. I am with you."
Tears will fall. Hearts will break. Laughter will ring out. Love will prevail. If only by a thin thread, hang on to HOPE! If you are reading this know you are loved. With love anything is possible. Carry this with you. Carry my heart. Lean on my shoulder. Hold my hand.
My brother, Scotty, so often referred to me as a silly writer of words. He was about doing. Building, seeing a finished product. Accomplishments measured your achievements. I on the other hand believed dreams could be achieved. I believe love really has power. Laughter is the best medicine. I believe in each individual's power to hang on just long enough until the cavalry arrives. I believe my silly words do have a purpose. I believe my simple thoughts can offer something. I believe one day, when Scotty and I hook up again - he will be building and I will be writing. How cool is that?
Adolescents who ask "why" might bring frustration: "Why can't I go to the party?" "Why do I have to take out the trash?" Man, adolescents have many "why" questions. We adults have no answers.
In days of late, I have witnessed many dear friends having to endure such hardship and trials. One day when Zuko and I were walking I was screaming to God; "WHY?" God did not respond. He doesn't when I scream.
In the course of this day reckon I asked "why" a couple dozen times. For all my asking - I have no answers. Remember that Dianetics dude who wrote a book about why bad things happen to good people - just a by the way - there are several cities here in LA now complete Dianetics campuses. They are everywhere.
He did not know "why" bad things happen to good people anymore than you or I. He, like so many others, found words which offered an out. Here is a map, a guide, a program, which if you follow nothing bad will ever happen to you. We all know this is BS. Life happens! And life sometimes just really is unfair. We don't get the answers. If you are lucky, you have belief in a higher power.
I remember Daddy Pat insisting we go to church. Oh, how I complained. I asked "Why." How many times since being a child I have given thanks to Daddy Pat for taking me to church. My faith, belief in a higher power, belief in heaven - each ritual of Catholicism - how they have comforted me. How this faith blanketed me, kept me warm - safe; during so many cold dark days.
Heck I don't know "why." Right now I have several dear friends who are experiencing hardship and struggles. It seems so arbitrary and unfair - I ask and ask and ask; "WHY?" There are no answers. There is no reason bad things happen to good people. I do not believe in a vengeful God who would send unthinkable suffering to wonderful people.
What does that leave us with? Without any concrete answers our questions are similar to dried dandelions we pick, blow upon, and make wishes. Candles on a birthday cake all blown out, wish kept secret so it may come true. We move forward as best we can. Often filled with frustration because we cannot do anything to change what is happening. Anger because what is happening appears so unfair and we want it to stop.
There does come a moment - a moment I have referred to as finding your "stillness." It is fleeting. It is hard to grasp. Hard to find. Getting to "stillness" requires us to reach out, look within, find a point of focus - "Stillness" comes to us only through hope, faith, and love. Man we have difficulty in getting there. If we can though - if we can just have one minute of "stillness." One moment when an out of control world stops spinning; then we garner enough strength to make it through another day.
Nope, we can ask "why" but we won't know any answers. I don't have any answers - man I wish I did. In lieu of something profound I offer only my soul's words; "Fear Not for you are never alone. This mountain will lead you to a vista so profoundly beautiful it will take your breath away. Tomorrow will arrive. It might suck worse than today. Possible it could be just a bit better. Do not be afraid of your anger. Giving voice to your anger is often a good thing. If you don't move, this too is just fine. Your holding pattern may only be time for your road ahead to be paved so you can travel it more easily. Don't give in and don't give up. Within each of us is a spirit of strength so deep. And I, I write my simple words. Share my simple thoughts. I am with you. I am with you. I am with you."
Tears will fall. Hearts will break. Laughter will ring out. Love will prevail. If only by a thin thread, hang on to HOPE! If you are reading this know you are loved. With love anything is possible. Carry this with you. Carry my heart. Lean on my shoulder. Hold my hand.
My brother, Scotty, so often referred to me as a silly writer of words. He was about doing. Building, seeing a finished product. Accomplishments measured your achievements. I on the other hand believed dreams could be achieved. I believe love really has power. Laughter is the best medicine. I believe in each individual's power to hang on just long enough until the cavalry arrives. I believe my silly words do have a purpose. I believe my simple thoughts can offer something. I believe one day, when Scotty and I hook up again - he will be building and I will be writing. How cool is that?
Monday, June 16, 2014
BS
RED - anger, frustration...I do not quite understand this whole affordable health care act. I read all of it - followed proceedings on C-Span (had some down time) Still, after trying brokers, insurance specialist from hospitals, on line sights, searched and searched - NADA!
Finally, today I surrendered to some thing they said was healthcare - I think I have been duped. Tomorrow I will call and cancel it!
Pre-existing conditions were supposed to be eliminated. They are except for when they aren't. All that fine print. Actually, there is no fine print. Some slick, fast talking salesman went so fast - and don't interrupt because they are recording. If you have questions wait until he turns off the recorder. Why can't my questions and his answers be recorded? In and of itself that is a big RED flag!
I need health coverage. It is what it is. Despite the rhetoric spewed across TV screen and written in that entire document. Health care is not affordable, nor is it accessible - well not if you actually need healthcare. If you are young and healthy you have nothing to worry about.
Terms and conditions, pre-existing conditions, major medical, doctors have to bill through hospitals, does not meet requirements of mandatory health coverage; so you still have to pay the tax. You many not have major surgery for 12 months. What is major surgery? Well, actually all surgeries are major. You can stay in hospital for 31 calendar days a year - after that you are on your own. You can see a doctor 3 times a year - after 30 days; or 12 months if your seeing a doctor for a pre-existing condition.
How can I erase 20 years of my life?
Oh, your disabled, well get medicare. Not eligible for medicare because I do not get SSI. I receive disability from California Teacher's Union. In which case I am not eligible for medicare unless I am blind, disabled, or pregnant. What part of I am on disability are they not comprehending?
I am not for government in my life. Don't believe in taxes on necessary items - like food or toothpaste or aspirin. Don't believe government belongs in my home. Don't believe government belongs in my church, nor my church in my government. I follow speed limits because I am a member of humanity. This is the right thing to do. Wearing a seatbelt - if I am fool enough not to, that is my business.
So while the government wants to tell me who I can marry, how much of my money they can have, how much a gallon of gas is going to cost me, and on and on and on - when I turn to them; checkbook in hand to abide by their "affordable health care for everyone." I find out once again, I am not a part of that everyone.
So, onward I go. Move forward. Back to my internet searches and fielding phone calls from crooked brokers who just spew mistruth and twisted truth and half-truths. Wish me a bit of luck.
Finally, today I surrendered to some thing they said was healthcare - I think I have been duped. Tomorrow I will call and cancel it!
Pre-existing conditions were supposed to be eliminated. They are except for when they aren't. All that fine print. Actually, there is no fine print. Some slick, fast talking salesman went so fast - and don't interrupt because they are recording. If you have questions wait until he turns off the recorder. Why can't my questions and his answers be recorded? In and of itself that is a big RED flag!
I need health coverage. It is what it is. Despite the rhetoric spewed across TV screen and written in that entire document. Health care is not affordable, nor is it accessible - well not if you actually need healthcare. If you are young and healthy you have nothing to worry about.
Terms and conditions, pre-existing conditions, major medical, doctors have to bill through hospitals, does not meet requirements of mandatory health coverage; so you still have to pay the tax. You many not have major surgery for 12 months. What is major surgery? Well, actually all surgeries are major. You can stay in hospital for 31 calendar days a year - after that you are on your own. You can see a doctor 3 times a year - after 30 days; or 12 months if your seeing a doctor for a pre-existing condition.
How can I erase 20 years of my life?
Oh, your disabled, well get medicare. Not eligible for medicare because I do not get SSI. I receive disability from California Teacher's Union. In which case I am not eligible for medicare unless I am blind, disabled, or pregnant. What part of I am on disability are they not comprehending?
I am not for government in my life. Don't believe in taxes on necessary items - like food or toothpaste or aspirin. Don't believe government belongs in my home. Don't believe government belongs in my church, nor my church in my government. I follow speed limits because I am a member of humanity. This is the right thing to do. Wearing a seatbelt - if I am fool enough not to, that is my business.
So while the government wants to tell me who I can marry, how much of my money they can have, how much a gallon of gas is going to cost me, and on and on and on - when I turn to them; checkbook in hand to abide by their "affordable health care for everyone." I find out once again, I am not a part of that everyone.
So, onward I go. Move forward. Back to my internet searches and fielding phone calls from crooked brokers who just spew mistruth and twisted truth and half-truths. Wish me a bit of luck.
Friday, June 13, 2014
Teacher Tenure
So many opinions, so little intelligence. Not IQ intelligence - life experience intelligence. I could not go to JPL and build a space shuttle. I could fake the funk; it is a gift. Just would not want to be astronauts on that shuttle.
My friend Chris, a teacher, school principal, and a man of great intelligence - both IQ and life experience. His remarks on this topic were - as usual, spot on.
It is not removing a safety net for poor teachers. That is not what blowing up tenure will do - it is taking away what our grandparents, parents, soldiers, leaders, activists - it is taking away what they fought for.
WalMart is a mega billion dollar business. Offering no protection, health benefits, or competitive salaries. An employee who speaks of unionization is quickly dismissed. Men, women and children working in dress factories right here in downtown LA. Working in deplorable conditions because they are not documented - no laws protect them. Buy your expensive Nike shoes; put aside your conscious when you think someone made them for $.10/hour. How much did you pay for them?
Teaching is not an easy gig. Yes, I know teachers who are artists, actors, writers - teaching affords them the opportunity to earn a living while pursuing their dreams. Isn't that why we all work. Someone once told me;
"Lisa, you come to work, earn your money so you can enjoy all the time when you are not at work. They call it work for a reason."
This person also told me;
"No matter how much you work, how much you give of your soul - they are never going to erect a statue of you in the front yard."
I was meant to teach. It is not what I do it is who I am. In that I am blessed. Not every day was a picnic - but everyday I did have the opportunity to make a difference. Perhaps a difference not noticeable in that day, week, month, or year -
About nine or so years ago I was picking Emily up from school when I heard a deep male voice calling my name;
"Lisa, Lisa, is that you?"
I knew it was a former Tobinworld student because at Tobinworld we were called by our first names. At LAUSD it was last names only. Hesitantly, (some students at Tobinworld were on a thin sheet of ice.)
I turned to see a face I recognized. Shamefully, I am so bad with names - I could not give a name to this face. There he stood. A young man now with five o'clock shadow, strong arms - baby fat gone from his cheeks.
"It's me, William."
Oh shit man, William. He was a success story. Earned his way back to public school. Graduated, married, worked as an after school tutor at Emily's school.
We hugged. William - William would have walked through a brick wall if I had asked him to. In fact, figuratively, I did. I asked him to let go of his neighborhood, leave behind what others said he couldn't do - embrace what he could do - and fly. So maybe he flew over that brick wall.
William had a daughter. Her name was Lisa.
"I named her after you. I told my wife, Lisa was a teacher I had at Tobinworld when my head was all messed up and she helped me see I had a choice."
Choking back tears, I told William.
"All I did buddy was show you a door, you did the work. You built a life you wanted."
"You believed in me when no one else ever had. No grown up had ever said I could be anything but a banger, addict, or welfare taker. You said I could be whatever I wanted."
In truth, not something you should tell a twelve year old who comes from East LA. No dad, Mom in and out - once in while you just know, or feel - or as I still believe - you look into their eyes.
This is a wonderful explanation of a teachers' opportunity. Not one president of IBM may have - CEO or CFO's or other such folks - whose jobs are just as important; They just don't have relationships in manner teachers have with students.
Yes, accountability matters. Every five years teachers have to complete 150 professional development hours then apply for rectification. Every five years for as long as you teach. My bachelors took 4.5 years. My Masters 2 years. And all of those hours of professional development.
Invariably, a school district will buy into the next great curriculum. This means every few years teachers spend copious amounts of time sitting in classrooms, being students, as some company rep reads a teacher's manual to us. Teachers are not always good students.
Any idea how much I spent as a teacher, every year on supplies? Let's say in a five year average - keeping records for tax purposes; $2,000. Tax laws have changed. Now a teacher can claim $250.00 max.
Back to tenure. I have encountered teachers who should be no where near children. Teachers who sat at a desk, read a newspaper, did crosswords, passed out worksheets - And I have worked with teachers that arrived every morning filled with ideas, plans, projects - boiling over waiting for the day to start so they could dive into their plans.
This is true in any profession. If teachers can be fired because student scores are too low, or an administrator has a hate on for them, or a parent does not like them - what does that do for all the other students. Does the classroom door revolve; lets try out this one, no this one, no this one. One thing I can say about good teaching you have to be consistent and structured!
In truth, no one is thinking about effects of changing teachers willy nilly will have on students. Test scores are numbers. Children are not numbers. Personalities clash, doesn't mean teacher is rotten.
The core of our country is based on democracy, innocent until proven guilty, independence, spirit. Any person who dreams of being an artists brings that passion into a classroom where art is no longer taught. Art is important. So, if he doesn't get through the entire 20 minute lesson on the sound of letter "M" BFD! What if he inspires a child to dream of being an artist?
As Chris said, if a teacher is so afraid to express their personality, passions, and free thinking ideas - we generate children who can answer questions, but not ask questions. This is scary! It is only through critical thinking, challenging and questioning from which great ideas can emerge. If we frighten teachers with "get higher test scores or hit the highway" we frighten students. Are our children not under enough pressure? Growing up in today's world is no picnic - Good Lord let them be kids and play dodge ball! Let them know it is OK to fail, teach them resiliency - so when they get out into this world; they can find their way beyond the two blocks around their house. They can ask questions. Seek truths. Think for themselves.
It does not matter if train A left at two and train B left at four - It does matter if our children know they can take train C and go wherever they want!
My friend Chris, a teacher, school principal, and a man of great intelligence - both IQ and life experience. His remarks on this topic were - as usual, spot on.
It is not removing a safety net for poor teachers. That is not what blowing up tenure will do - it is taking away what our grandparents, parents, soldiers, leaders, activists - it is taking away what they fought for.
WalMart is a mega billion dollar business. Offering no protection, health benefits, or competitive salaries. An employee who speaks of unionization is quickly dismissed. Men, women and children working in dress factories right here in downtown LA. Working in deplorable conditions because they are not documented - no laws protect them. Buy your expensive Nike shoes; put aside your conscious when you think someone made them for $.10/hour. How much did you pay for them?
Teaching is not an easy gig. Yes, I know teachers who are artists, actors, writers - teaching affords them the opportunity to earn a living while pursuing their dreams. Isn't that why we all work. Someone once told me;
"Lisa, you come to work, earn your money so you can enjoy all the time when you are not at work. They call it work for a reason."
This person also told me;
"No matter how much you work, how much you give of your soul - they are never going to erect a statue of you in the front yard."
I was meant to teach. It is not what I do it is who I am. In that I am blessed. Not every day was a picnic - but everyday I did have the opportunity to make a difference. Perhaps a difference not noticeable in that day, week, month, or year -
About nine or so years ago I was picking Emily up from school when I heard a deep male voice calling my name;
"Lisa, Lisa, is that you?"
I knew it was a former Tobinworld student because at Tobinworld we were called by our first names. At LAUSD it was last names only. Hesitantly, (some students at Tobinworld were on a thin sheet of ice.)
I turned to see a face I recognized. Shamefully, I am so bad with names - I could not give a name to this face. There he stood. A young man now with five o'clock shadow, strong arms - baby fat gone from his cheeks.
"It's me, William."
Oh shit man, William. He was a success story. Earned his way back to public school. Graduated, married, worked as an after school tutor at Emily's school.
We hugged. William - William would have walked through a brick wall if I had asked him to. In fact, figuratively, I did. I asked him to let go of his neighborhood, leave behind what others said he couldn't do - embrace what he could do - and fly. So maybe he flew over that brick wall.
William had a daughter. Her name was Lisa.
"I named her after you. I told my wife, Lisa was a teacher I had at Tobinworld when my head was all messed up and she helped me see I had a choice."
Choking back tears, I told William.
"All I did buddy was show you a door, you did the work. You built a life you wanted."
"You believed in me when no one else ever had. No grown up had ever said I could be anything but a banger, addict, or welfare taker. You said I could be whatever I wanted."
In truth, not something you should tell a twelve year old who comes from East LA. No dad, Mom in and out - once in while you just know, or feel - or as I still believe - you look into their eyes.
This is a wonderful explanation of a teachers' opportunity. Not one president of IBM may have - CEO or CFO's or other such folks - whose jobs are just as important; They just don't have relationships in manner teachers have with students.
Yes, accountability matters. Every five years teachers have to complete 150 professional development hours then apply for rectification. Every five years for as long as you teach. My bachelors took 4.5 years. My Masters 2 years. And all of those hours of professional development.
Invariably, a school district will buy into the next great curriculum. This means every few years teachers spend copious amounts of time sitting in classrooms, being students, as some company rep reads a teacher's manual to us. Teachers are not always good students.
Any idea how much I spent as a teacher, every year on supplies? Let's say in a five year average - keeping records for tax purposes; $2,000. Tax laws have changed. Now a teacher can claim $250.00 max.
Back to tenure. I have encountered teachers who should be no where near children. Teachers who sat at a desk, read a newspaper, did crosswords, passed out worksheets - And I have worked with teachers that arrived every morning filled with ideas, plans, projects - boiling over waiting for the day to start so they could dive into their plans.
This is true in any profession. If teachers can be fired because student scores are too low, or an administrator has a hate on for them, or a parent does not like them - what does that do for all the other students. Does the classroom door revolve; lets try out this one, no this one, no this one. One thing I can say about good teaching you have to be consistent and structured!
In truth, no one is thinking about effects of changing teachers willy nilly will have on students. Test scores are numbers. Children are not numbers. Personalities clash, doesn't mean teacher is rotten.
The core of our country is based on democracy, innocent until proven guilty, independence, spirit. Any person who dreams of being an artists brings that passion into a classroom where art is no longer taught. Art is important. So, if he doesn't get through the entire 20 minute lesson on the sound of letter "M" BFD! What if he inspires a child to dream of being an artist?
As Chris said, if a teacher is so afraid to express their personality, passions, and free thinking ideas - we generate children who can answer questions, but not ask questions. This is scary! It is only through critical thinking, challenging and questioning from which great ideas can emerge. If we frighten teachers with "get higher test scores or hit the highway" we frighten students. Are our children not under enough pressure? Growing up in today's world is no picnic - Good Lord let them be kids and play dodge ball! Let them know it is OK to fail, teach them resiliency - so when they get out into this world; they can find their way beyond the two blocks around their house. They can ask questions. Seek truths. Think for themselves.
It does not matter if train A left at two and train B left at four - It does matter if our children know they can take train C and go wherever they want!
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Oh Goodness Madge
This morning Gail asked for my blog URL; reminded me I have not blogged in so long. Reminded me I literally sat on a couch for most of past year slowly dying. Reminded me looking into eyes of my friends; and how one day I could see my reflection - more importantly I could see their pain. Pain I was causing. Had to get my sorry ass up and do something - or I had to end my life. Dying slowly is way too hard on people who love you.
I called Rosie; asked her to get me to LA - ASAP. And as Rosie and Herbie always have, within 30 minutes I was booked on a 4:30 flight for the next day.
Of course this news, as I shared it with everyone, kind of a lead balloon. Only I knew it was LA, my Dr's., my hospital, or death. Does not make a bit of sense. Ah, but it does. Health care in Upstate NY sucks - and that is if your healthy. If you have lived there a long time. Established relationships with Dr's. you will fare pretty well. You can't move for crazy CA, bring a U-Haul of meds and an encyclopedia of illness.
After Mommie passed, I left Malone as a broken little girl. Despite my health woes -- 20 some years later I became an educated, accomplished, heck of a good time gal! It often feels I am two people - Malone Lisa and LA Lisa - of the two though; LA Lisa is better off. Though for years I kept yearning to go home - OK, until winter - one winter was one winter too many. SOB, that was a stinking awful winter. 30 degrees below zero, with 8 -10 inches of ice. Days you simply could not go outside. Weeks, months - when you did not see the sun. And poor Zuko...I tried to keep a small patch of grass shoveled so he could go to the bathroom. 30 degrees below zero for my poor dog who has little fur.
I have known depression, psychosis, nervous breakdowns - grew up around a lot of dysfunction. When it hit me - I was shocked. Having lost my career, my home, my family, my physical activities - boy I hit hard. I did go to psychiatrist and therapist. That was a disaster! Apparently, I am actually too smart for my own good.
Eventually, panic attacks and agoraphobia stuck me on that couch. From sun up until sun down I sat there watching the front door. Terrified someone would knock on it. Terrified someone would call. Terrified I would live. Terrified I would die. Some days I could take a step or two away from the couch. On other days - a step from the couch would cause me to black out. I didn't eat. I didn't sleep. Just waited until dark - when it was safe. People don't visit after dark.
During this time I knew I was messing up. I could see pain in eyes of people I loved. As much as I wanted to be different I was helpless. That is what Eileen said; "You decided you were useless, and now you are." Ouch, but true. If I could not teach, play softball, be a mother, a partner - I could not find another purpose. I tried, at first I tried - then winter came; everyone holes up in winter. Winter was not my friend.
A lot was made of how I abused pain medication. I did. No doubt I used meds to shut off my brain. Turn off fear. Quiet my doubts. It worked. It just was not OK. I could have taken to drinking, or smoking pot - these are acceptable coping mechanisms. Being a recluse using pain meds to quiet my mind - this was not OK. I did not ask for pain, nor for meds to relieve the pain. Didn't set out to be injured , sick, botched brain surgery. Shit happens! If I stayed in my apartment, medicated myself to comfortable level - I was not hurting anyone. Well, apparently I was. Though I still don't understand all of that.
Back in LA, I am staying with a friend. Trying to get my feet back on ground. Trying to rediscover who I am suppose to be. What am I suppose to do. Often someone or other would tell me I had to find another mountain to climb. Find another challenge to overcome. That is not going to happen. I don't need to climb anymore mountains. I don't need to validate the first 50 years of my life; I did damn good given what I had to work with. So, no, I am not going to become "Lisa the Conqueror." I am going to write here. Share my thoughts. Go to a movie once and again. Have dinner with friends once and a while. Take care of Zuko.
This is not complaining - I still live in pain; every waking moment something hurts. Today is 4th day of a migraine. I get up, I walk, I complete some stuff on my list. I sit outside. Watch trees, birds, squirrels. Listen to music. Listen to voices in my head. This is a calm life. I still search for my place of peace. I would like to find that again. I cannot apologize anymore. I cannot go back. I cannot change anything I did right or wrong. Simply, I was doing the best I could. Some folks are accepting of this and will move forward with me. Others won't. That is not mine to control. I cannot carry that weight.
I am resilient. I am strong. Just not as much as I once was. None of us know what our tomorrow has to bring. Today, right now, I can write - I can do this. I focus on what I can do. Like I said it is simple and calm. I can handle it. Hamsters in my head spin that wheel - the idea of getting my doctorate, teaching a JC class - volunteering somewhere - they are ideas. A four day migraine sets aside such ideas. That is alright. My failures exist, they are right there with my successes. I just can't apologize anymore. If anyone believes I willingly set out to hurt people they don't know me. If anyone believes I wanted to take pain meds just so I could get out of the house - they don't know me.
Some folks will always judge me only for my weakness, failures, mistakes - go ahead. Have at it. If stomping on my back makes you feel better - have at it. It is sad our society still views mental illness with such a slant. Mental illness is weakness - addiction is weakness. Strap up your boots and get moving. I know I have said it to others - then it was me - it was gripping my throat so tight I could not breathe. Tomorrow is a new day. Actually, still morning here so today is unfolding.
My friend Sylviar is fighting like a bull dog! It is her who needs prayers. She is an inspiration. I have nothing to complain about. I am lucky, blessed - I know that. But I will not apologize anymore. Y'all need to hear that. I said all the I am sorry I can say.
So, if you still want to journey with me, great! I will write and if you want to read - that is cool. Certainly I do not lack thoughts or ideas. This whole teacher tenure thing is on my radar. As well as NBA playoffs - defense is effort. When Miami gives up 71 first half points; what a lack of effort. Their coach is way off the mark - Popovich has his role players contributing big minutes, saving his big three for Miami runs. Solstra, is doing that entire doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result. We'll see. World Cup starts today. USA team manager said; and I quote; "USA team cannot win World Cup. They are not good enough. If saying that is Un-American, then it is."
un-American? Is he kidding? We don't go into anything believing we are not going to win! USA chants will echo across this country - flags, jerseys, heated bar debates will ensue. It is not always the biggest or best that come out on top. Sometimes sheer will, determination, faith, and effort - sometimes, that is enough to get you to the promised land. When all you have is hope - hope is all you need!
I called Rosie; asked her to get me to LA - ASAP. And as Rosie and Herbie always have, within 30 minutes I was booked on a 4:30 flight for the next day.
Of course this news, as I shared it with everyone, kind of a lead balloon. Only I knew it was LA, my Dr's., my hospital, or death. Does not make a bit of sense. Ah, but it does. Health care in Upstate NY sucks - and that is if your healthy. If you have lived there a long time. Established relationships with Dr's. you will fare pretty well. You can't move for crazy CA, bring a U-Haul of meds and an encyclopedia of illness.
After Mommie passed, I left Malone as a broken little girl. Despite my health woes -- 20 some years later I became an educated, accomplished, heck of a good time gal! It often feels I am two people - Malone Lisa and LA Lisa - of the two though; LA Lisa is better off. Though for years I kept yearning to go home - OK, until winter - one winter was one winter too many. SOB, that was a stinking awful winter. 30 degrees below zero, with 8 -10 inches of ice. Days you simply could not go outside. Weeks, months - when you did not see the sun. And poor Zuko...I tried to keep a small patch of grass shoveled so he could go to the bathroom. 30 degrees below zero for my poor dog who has little fur.
I have known depression, psychosis, nervous breakdowns - grew up around a lot of dysfunction. When it hit me - I was shocked. Having lost my career, my home, my family, my physical activities - boy I hit hard. I did go to psychiatrist and therapist. That was a disaster! Apparently, I am actually too smart for my own good.
Eventually, panic attacks and agoraphobia stuck me on that couch. From sun up until sun down I sat there watching the front door. Terrified someone would knock on it. Terrified someone would call. Terrified I would live. Terrified I would die. Some days I could take a step or two away from the couch. On other days - a step from the couch would cause me to black out. I didn't eat. I didn't sleep. Just waited until dark - when it was safe. People don't visit after dark.
During this time I knew I was messing up. I could see pain in eyes of people I loved. As much as I wanted to be different I was helpless. That is what Eileen said; "You decided you were useless, and now you are." Ouch, but true. If I could not teach, play softball, be a mother, a partner - I could not find another purpose. I tried, at first I tried - then winter came; everyone holes up in winter. Winter was not my friend.
A lot was made of how I abused pain medication. I did. No doubt I used meds to shut off my brain. Turn off fear. Quiet my doubts. It worked. It just was not OK. I could have taken to drinking, or smoking pot - these are acceptable coping mechanisms. Being a recluse using pain meds to quiet my mind - this was not OK. I did not ask for pain, nor for meds to relieve the pain. Didn't set out to be injured , sick, botched brain surgery. Shit happens! If I stayed in my apartment, medicated myself to comfortable level - I was not hurting anyone. Well, apparently I was. Though I still don't understand all of that.
Back in LA, I am staying with a friend. Trying to get my feet back on ground. Trying to rediscover who I am suppose to be. What am I suppose to do. Often someone or other would tell me I had to find another mountain to climb. Find another challenge to overcome. That is not going to happen. I don't need to climb anymore mountains. I don't need to validate the first 50 years of my life; I did damn good given what I had to work with. So, no, I am not going to become "Lisa the Conqueror." I am going to write here. Share my thoughts. Go to a movie once and again. Have dinner with friends once and a while. Take care of Zuko.
This is not complaining - I still live in pain; every waking moment something hurts. Today is 4th day of a migraine. I get up, I walk, I complete some stuff on my list. I sit outside. Watch trees, birds, squirrels. Listen to music. Listen to voices in my head. This is a calm life. I still search for my place of peace. I would like to find that again. I cannot apologize anymore. I cannot go back. I cannot change anything I did right or wrong. Simply, I was doing the best I could. Some folks are accepting of this and will move forward with me. Others won't. That is not mine to control. I cannot carry that weight.
I am resilient. I am strong. Just not as much as I once was. None of us know what our tomorrow has to bring. Today, right now, I can write - I can do this. I focus on what I can do. Like I said it is simple and calm. I can handle it. Hamsters in my head spin that wheel - the idea of getting my doctorate, teaching a JC class - volunteering somewhere - they are ideas. A four day migraine sets aside such ideas. That is alright. My failures exist, they are right there with my successes. I just can't apologize anymore. If anyone believes I willingly set out to hurt people they don't know me. If anyone believes I wanted to take pain meds just so I could get out of the house - they don't know me.
Some folks will always judge me only for my weakness, failures, mistakes - go ahead. Have at it. If stomping on my back makes you feel better - have at it. It is sad our society still views mental illness with such a slant. Mental illness is weakness - addiction is weakness. Strap up your boots and get moving. I know I have said it to others - then it was me - it was gripping my throat so tight I could not breathe. Tomorrow is a new day. Actually, still morning here so today is unfolding.
My friend Sylviar is fighting like a bull dog! It is her who needs prayers. She is an inspiration. I have nothing to complain about. I am lucky, blessed - I know that. But I will not apologize anymore. Y'all need to hear that. I said all the I am sorry I can say.
So, if you still want to journey with me, great! I will write and if you want to read - that is cool. Certainly I do not lack thoughts or ideas. This whole teacher tenure thing is on my radar. As well as NBA playoffs - defense is effort. When Miami gives up 71 first half points; what a lack of effort. Their coach is way off the mark - Popovich has his role players contributing big minutes, saving his big three for Miami runs. Solstra, is doing that entire doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result. We'll see. World Cup starts today. USA team manager said; and I quote; "USA team cannot win World Cup. They are not good enough. If saying that is Un-American, then it is."
un-American? Is he kidding? We don't go into anything believing we are not going to win! USA chants will echo across this country - flags, jerseys, heated bar debates will ensue. It is not always the biggest or best that come out on top. Sometimes sheer will, determination, faith, and effort - sometimes, that is enough to get you to the promised land. When all you have is hope - hope is all you need!
Monday, March 17, 2014
Seeking
I told Eileen one day I felt like Jim Carey in The Truman Show. I lived 20 years with all the world watching. One day I walked out into that fake water and felt the plywood that had for so long contained me. Don't reckon my life was idyllic as Mr. Carey's. It was damn close. I did not choose to discover my plywood make believe existence. I was happy. Alas, things seldom go as we plan.
Then last night I was thinking about those Russian dolls, you open one and there is another, and so on. I have been opening shell after shell hoping to find my core. I don't think I have found it yet - but I have not given up.
I never understood God's plan for me. He has not responded to my request. Where I am now - well I am not content here. I have wonderful friends and a support group like none other but my soul needs to move. Am I running away? I don't know. Running away from what? I am searching, praying, begging to find the place I am to be. I certainly wish to fulfill God's plan for me - it sometimes is darn difficult.
I miss my life and I miss me. I need to seek both. I am not this person paralyzed by fear and anxiety. I am not weak or naïve. I am intelligent, funny, alive! I am a good time. Maybe behind the plywood walls I can find that person again.
I have one more go in me. Summoning up one more attempt to get myself back to myself. I know I have to move. I have to be moving. I believed here was the place. My heart yearned to be here - and then it didn't. I guess you truly cannot go home again.
So, when the weather breaks Zuko and I will hit the road. Heading first to North Carolina for my nieces' college graduation. Check it out. See if NC has room for me. I am also going to LA. Donald's wedding, Em's birthday, some students graduating from HS.
I do not know if I fit in LA anymore. It could be like Malone too manyghosts. I guess we will wait and see.
It is funny, not ha ha funny, just peculiar funny - since I was a wee bitty thing I had a plan, direction, path. Now, my ship is without a rudder. When all the walls are knocked down or all the dolls opened - perhaps in there I will be. Wouldn't that be grand!
As much as I ask "don't worry about me." If you love me you are going to worry. Maybe Hawaii is my land of enchantment.
I know I am not a bad person. I have made mistakes. I do not deserve judgement, or ridicule. No one can say I did not take care of my family. No one can say I am not a loyal friend. Life threw me the dang change up and I missed it by a mile. I would give anything to have another swing.
We don't get mulligans, not in life. All we can do is pick up, dust off, and move forward - sometimes not knowing where forward is going to take us. I want me back. With alterations and a few stitches here and there I believe I am salvageable. I believe I still have purpose and meaning; I believe I still have something to offer this world.
So love me or not. Support me or be quiet. I beat myself up enough - don't need anyone else adding more blows. There are parts of my life I must accept and let go. I will. Damn it hurts. I can't move forward until I let go of these pasts. I have had more than one.
I will keep you posted. Pray for me. Know for certain, no matter where I am or what I am doing; I am doing the very best I can. I am trying with all my might. I do so with humility and gratitude - but I do so!
Then last night I was thinking about those Russian dolls, you open one and there is another, and so on. I have been opening shell after shell hoping to find my core. I don't think I have found it yet - but I have not given up.
I never understood God's plan for me. He has not responded to my request. Where I am now - well I am not content here. I have wonderful friends and a support group like none other but my soul needs to move. Am I running away? I don't know. Running away from what? I am searching, praying, begging to find the place I am to be. I certainly wish to fulfill God's plan for me - it sometimes is darn difficult.
I miss my life and I miss me. I need to seek both. I am not this person paralyzed by fear and anxiety. I am not weak or naïve. I am intelligent, funny, alive! I am a good time. Maybe behind the plywood walls I can find that person again.
I have one more go in me. Summoning up one more attempt to get myself back to myself. I know I have to move. I have to be moving. I believed here was the place. My heart yearned to be here - and then it didn't. I guess you truly cannot go home again.
So, when the weather breaks Zuko and I will hit the road. Heading first to North Carolina for my nieces' college graduation. Check it out. See if NC has room for me. I am also going to LA. Donald's wedding, Em's birthday, some students graduating from HS.
I do not know if I fit in LA anymore. It could be like Malone too manyghosts. I guess we will wait and see.
It is funny, not ha ha funny, just peculiar funny - since I was a wee bitty thing I had a plan, direction, path. Now, my ship is without a rudder. When all the walls are knocked down or all the dolls opened - perhaps in there I will be. Wouldn't that be grand!
As much as I ask "don't worry about me." If you love me you are going to worry. Maybe Hawaii is my land of enchantment.
I know I am not a bad person. I have made mistakes. I do not deserve judgement, or ridicule. No one can say I did not take care of my family. No one can say I am not a loyal friend. Life threw me the dang change up and I missed it by a mile. I would give anything to have another swing.
We don't get mulligans, not in life. All we can do is pick up, dust off, and move forward - sometimes not knowing where forward is going to take us. I want me back. With alterations and a few stitches here and there I believe I am salvageable. I believe I still have purpose and meaning; I believe I still have something to offer this world.
So love me or not. Support me or be quiet. I beat myself up enough - don't need anyone else adding more blows. There are parts of my life I must accept and let go. I will. Damn it hurts. I can't move forward until I let go of these pasts. I have had more than one.
I will keep you posted. Pray for me. Know for certain, no matter where I am or what I am doing; I am doing the very best I can. I am trying with all my might. I do so with humility and gratitude - but I do so!
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Oh The Frustration
Health care for sick folks stinks. If you are healthy this matters not. Be thankful. This Podunk hospital out here bills each department separately. One department returns my payment because I am paid in full. The next day I receive 5 new bills - other departments = $10,649.61. Let me just write them a check. Last time I was at this facility I was sent to Shelley in financial hardship office. I explain I live on disability and have no insurance. She tells me she is not allowed to work with patients on disability. That is discrimination I say. She says take it up with the board. Picks up her newspaper and that is that.
I call the number on one of these five bills. Lady was rude. Why don't you have insurance? I go through story including Shelly's role. Oh, she says, I am Shelly and I would not have said that. That is discrimination. Yes, I agree. I told you that when I was in your office.
As you can imagine, Shelly is not wanting to help me. Swears she never would have said any such thing. I tell her, I was not alone, I have a witness. Deny, Deny, Deny!
Finally, I say look I just want to set up some type of payment plan so this does not go to collections.
Well have you applied for Medicaid. Yes, I was denied. Have you applied for Fidelis, yes, it was $532.00/month. Not quite affordable. Well have you contacted Debbie at Adirondack Insurance - Nope, never heard of Debbie.
Then I offered to make a payment. Unless I could pay $10,000 they would take nothing. Can I set up a payment plan. Well, we have a 5 year limit on payment plans and you don't sound like you could pay enough each month to meet that criteria.
I don't sound like I could meet the criteria? What do I sound like you pencil pushing, paper shoving, ignorant, biased, moron? Seriously, what do I sound like?
You did discriminate when you said you couldn't help me because I was disabled. Should have hired a lawyer over that. Now, now you don't think I sound like I can pay of $10,000 in five years. Hell, I won't be alive in five years you stupid ignorant wanna be!
It is like this all the time. I will not go to anymore doctors or hospitals. Wherever and whenever this ticker stops ticking it won't be in a hospital. Screw that. It is not my fault I don't have insurance. I tried. I researched, called dozens of brokers - most are scams. No fidelis would not accept me. Healthy NY, sorry. Obamacare - that is just a joke.
This is the marginalization I speak of. This is what makes an intelligent, accomplished woman go off the deep end. I literally exists in a void between a hundred dollars too much this way and a hundred dollars too little that way.
Paid my dues. Followed the rules. Fought as long as I could - for what? So some person living an unhappy existence calls me a liar - judges me because I am on disability. Speaks to me like I am two years old.
Worked so hard for so damn long - to what end? This? Nope, not for this.
Marginalized member of society. Of no use. Dismissed, looked over, talked down to - YO' Shelly I am not deaf or dumb you did not need to speak slow and loud. What a nummy-nut! If it wasn't a gazillion degrees below zero I would march right over there and punch her in the face. OK, no I would not punch her, but I might share a piece of my mind. Oh, the frustration!
I call the number on one of these five bills. Lady was rude. Why don't you have insurance? I go through story including Shelly's role. Oh, she says, I am Shelly and I would not have said that. That is discrimination. Yes, I agree. I told you that when I was in your office.
As you can imagine, Shelly is not wanting to help me. Swears she never would have said any such thing. I tell her, I was not alone, I have a witness. Deny, Deny, Deny!
Finally, I say look I just want to set up some type of payment plan so this does not go to collections.
Well have you applied for Medicaid. Yes, I was denied. Have you applied for Fidelis, yes, it was $532.00/month. Not quite affordable. Well have you contacted Debbie at Adirondack Insurance - Nope, never heard of Debbie.
Then I offered to make a payment. Unless I could pay $10,000 they would take nothing. Can I set up a payment plan. Well, we have a 5 year limit on payment plans and you don't sound like you could pay enough each month to meet that criteria.
I don't sound like I could meet the criteria? What do I sound like you pencil pushing, paper shoving, ignorant, biased, moron? Seriously, what do I sound like?
You did discriminate when you said you couldn't help me because I was disabled. Should have hired a lawyer over that. Now, now you don't think I sound like I can pay of $10,000 in five years. Hell, I won't be alive in five years you stupid ignorant wanna be!
It is like this all the time. I will not go to anymore doctors or hospitals. Wherever and whenever this ticker stops ticking it won't be in a hospital. Screw that. It is not my fault I don't have insurance. I tried. I researched, called dozens of brokers - most are scams. No fidelis would not accept me. Healthy NY, sorry. Obamacare - that is just a joke.
This is the marginalization I speak of. This is what makes an intelligent, accomplished woman go off the deep end. I literally exists in a void between a hundred dollars too much this way and a hundred dollars too little that way.
Paid my dues. Followed the rules. Fought as long as I could - for what? So some person living an unhappy existence calls me a liar - judges me because I am on disability. Speaks to me like I am two years old.
Worked so hard for so damn long - to what end? This? Nope, not for this.
Marginalized member of society. Of no use. Dismissed, looked over, talked down to - YO' Shelly I am not deaf or dumb you did not need to speak slow and loud. What a nummy-nut! If it wasn't a gazillion degrees below zero I would march right over there and punch her in the face. OK, no I would not punch her, but I might share a piece of my mind. Oh, the frustration!
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