These sounds today--from the new neighbor, clopping and creaking with hard shoes above my head, breaking my time of meditation and writing.
These unwanted thoughts today, these too-strong reactions, these harsh responses within and without, these unwanted guests! I surrender. I can't block you, hide from you, figure you out, kick you out, or force myself to keep going with my plans, as all these inputs are shaking my brain and body just now. I can't keep leaving the house and seeking shelter somewhere else.
I hope you know I'm not just talking about my neighbor--these reactions, and responses, within and without--have been going on a long time. Even when I was a child---oh never mind!
The entire world, inside and out, an arrow--and no shield. What to do?
I tried reasoning with my brain to let up, to change update its system; no dice.
it would be great if i had a cat,
a cat and a true love, and a sense of safety that was unshakeable.
and a beautiful clean and private and sun -filled home where I could enjoy solitude, do good work and open my doors to visitors and offer the love and comfort and laughter—a place where we could all be our true selves without judgement.
What a beautiful and true wish I have...for this, and to write scenes like this.
This book I have been writing--perhaps a novella, perhaps a spiritual memoir, perhaps a mediations on recovery, perhaps penance--this is where I keep putting my intention and my action, daily.
Once finished, i can abandon the entire past and keep moving on, only writing loving and true wishes and scenes like this, offering my house, enjoying living in my house—living each day just like this, and at last loving my family as I wish to love them, and being in love with the entire world.
Is this to much to ask?
My brain is quiet, and the cat says go ahead and adopt me.
I was about three years old when I sat on the floor one day trying to put two pieces of wood together to build a boat. There were traumas and tragedies going on in my own home, which I felt powerless to do anything about, and yet felt strongly called to build this boat, get everyone in it, and sail out of there. I had no hammer or nails, but remember the sense of trying to put these pieces of wood together, and with the power of my will and concentration alone, get them to form a boat. I felt a hand on my head, and thought it was my father--looked up and no one was there.
Looking back, I would say that perhaps no human was there with me, but what appeared to me that day was a promise: you are not alone, and with your concentration, your will, and your effort, the day will come when you will be empowered, in a community of like-minded others, not to flee, not to fight, not to rescue, not to find a quick fix--but working together, with the right tools, and good heart, to make a difference.
Inspiration and guidance has come throughout my life, to organize at the level of neighborhood, town or community and to rally together to bring about positive change. When I went to post-Katrina New Orleans to volunteer in an emergency community for the homeless and for at-risk youth, I began to learn something about what works and what doesn't work, particularly in one's own attitude. Willingness, humility and showing up without so much as an agenda, but an intention to meet others heart to heart, are some of the qualities I still strive to cultivate today.
One learns how to use leadership abilities to inspire and empower others to use their own greatest strengths, and one learns, equally, to be a team player, willing to support the group's goals. Even when we have lofty-sounding and worthy goals such as community rebuilding, educational reform, trauma recovery, addiction intervention and prevention--in the trenches it is often about working with another individual or family, human to human, with the understanding that we all suffer, and alone we die--and we all have the right to live with dignity and freedom, and have a chance to do that if we work together.
I learned this through some hard crashes. After volunteering in the ninth ward, I too lost my home in a hurricane. I was disabled for several years during this time due to a series of injuries and illnesses, compounded by the loss of my two closest friends. I was right up against the challenges that millions face--job loss, foreclosure, lack of medical care, food and shelter issues, and above all a sense of terror.
My friend Christopher Cameron and I went through a time of mutual illness and injury; he died of brain cancer in 2011
Loss of independence was the toughest challenge. I had been on my own since age 14, and then raised two strong, beautiful daughters, but for years after this crises, I was mostly housebound and reliant on a home health care aide. I was dependent and struggling in a way that gave me an insight into millions of others, including the elderly and disabled, and those feeling isolated from the world, or unable to receive treatment for the oft-overlooked diagnosis of extreme complex trauma.
one of the aides that i had
I have learned to focus on what is possible, and this has been one key to my recovery. Recovery is a process, but I have experienced immense progress! Witnessing this in others who are recovering has helped me know the power of recovering together. I now believe that many thousands or even millions of people could be substantially relieved of mental and physical pain that was once considered chronic or untreatable. I know this from direct experience, and I have gone from hobbling with a cane and unable to sit and drive, to walking miles in a strong stride heading out by car or plane to enjoy visits with my daughters and their husbands and my two brand new grandsons. Blessings!
The other key has been other human beings--when you are really up against it, and often feel entirely abandoned, that hand comes again, not to rest invisibly atop your head, but the strong, caring and able hands of others who have been where you now are, and want to help pull you up. In my case, I had to stand on my own two feet, and walk with my Higher Power a bit before I discovered there were compassionate people willing to walk with me.
As soon as this walk began , I learned I could use my experiences of suffering and transformation, of loss and redemption to inspire others to walk with me. I'm a writer, and have been developing some trauma recovery strategies and tool kits. I taught my first workshop to an agency in my hometown who works with people in crises. They once helped me out greatly. It feels good to give back, and to keep moving. It feels good to be still, with another being, and to know that the promise I was offered as a child is surely coming true. Together, we can, we will and we are!
Obamba called for people to share their inspiration for organizing and becoming involved in grassroots programs that create positive change--this is mine! What's yours?
