Mile 9 In A Half Marathon

After trading three emails with an H.R. manager at a grocery store where I have been trying to get hired since last April, tearing up during my morning meditation as I asked for the guidance to give my dream some real steam, holding the wish and intention of getting an interview with them, staring at the back of their store from the loading dock at my current job and trying to will them to call me, I began to falter a bit this afternoon.

For any job seeker, holding a positive intention is a difficult balance.  When do you throw your arms up during the roller coaster ride and scream your ass off and when do you grip the side rail? A prayer, a wish and an intention are made from the same cloth.  We call it positive thinking but maybe it is simply a belief in ourselves regardless of the outcome.  However, it is difficult when the interest comes and then it goes.  How do we relax?  How do we believe and then let go?

And so it is that I am almost dead on my feet tired at my now four months of working as a gardener.  The same uncertain climate has led to daily if not several times a day being overly criticized by the lead gardener for doing something wrong.  Not exactly.  Sexism and not such a pretty word when you watch your co-workers do the minimum and you are the one getting grief for doing excellent work in half the time.  No kidding.  It has gotten really, really old.  Yeah, I'm the girl.

I hold the dream that the H.R. manager really meant what she said in the last email and hope that tomorrow will bring a phone call for an interview.  I have been here many times and that is what it is like to look for work in 2012.  It reminds me of running a half marathon. At about mile nine, your mind tells your body to stop running though there are 3.1 miles to go.  As a runner, you then try to pry up that relentless voice in your head to find, underneath, the character and the guts to go the distance and cross the finish line still running. 

I am still running.

The Loving Hut And Harry The Whippet

Yesterday some friends took us along on their sweet adventure to San Francisco for lunch and a dog park and a coffee shop.  It was as if the heavens shown down upon us as the weather was clear and sunny in the city.  So sunny that by day's end we had seen four naked people on the streets of San Francisco.  Well then it is the city.

First stop at a dog park in Petaluma for a brief constitutional for our four legged friend and so many different dogs were there.  Cavorting and sniffing and running amok were various dog friends who all seem to be very well behaved in this large dog park near Hwy 101.  I was so impressed and for me, dogs are like a tickling breeze to my troubled mind.  Any kind of dog peaks my interest and I find a way to get close to them if I can. 

We then traipsed to San Francisco and found the restaurant that Ms. M. found for us on the great Internet highway.  A vegan Chinese restaurant is an unknown in our part of northern California and so it was an exciting event.  The Loving Hut as it is called has a 100% vegan menu.  It is a clean and bright place with so many wonderful things to eat.  Wow.  All our meals were outstanding and one could not tell that no meat in any way passed our plates.  In fact, for desert I had banana fritters with vanilla ice cream that made me feel giddy and almost otherworldly.  What an incredible lunch with our fascinating friends and their rich stories.  We left The Loving Hut feeling full and ready to take a walk.

We ended up at our friend's new dog park find and spent some time watching and petting other dogs as our four legged co-adventurer checked out her kin.  A man with an elderly Whippet came in a while and I made my way to Harry.  Harry had once been a puppy with lots to sniff and wag about.  I found that Harry seemed to be very stiff and in pain.  I wondered if his owner realized just how hard it is to be a 15 year old Whippet with back pain.

I wanted to snatch Harry up and take him home and treat him with Rimadyl and massage and acupuncture daily.  He came and stood in the crook of my bent knees, just like Rosie and it pretty much broke my heart.  Harry is one of those dogs who steal your heart before you know what has hit you.  Perhaps there is a Whippet in my future?  If so, may he have the kind of soul that Harry shared with me on a sunny day in San Francisco. May you have a soft landing Harry.

We left the dog park and walked "The Castro" which seems to have turned more vaudeville than I remember.  However, the bar where I used to drink was still doing a thriving business.  That bar now has cafe tables out front where the naked man we saw walking down the street found a chair amongst clothed patrons who did not even give it another wink that he was, indeed, naked as a jay bird. We stopped by the coffee shop and onto our car for a brief sojourn to the marina where the ocean was dotted with yachts and boats coming in from an afternoon on San Francisco bay.

All in all, I felt full of sunshine, people watching, great food, dogs and love as we traveled north past the beginnings of late afternoon across those Marin county hills that are the gateway to our beautiful county here. It seemed like I had stepped out of my troubles and I feel so fortunate to have been included in such a glorious adventure with great humans, a puffy dog friend and Edith, the GPS maven.  Thank you everyone.  Boy did I need that!

Roses Have Thorns For A Reason

I have now pruned over 25 rose bushes on our campus at work in the last week.  When I close my eyes, I see an imprint of the bud unions, dead and crossed canes laden with now blistered rose buds.  The roses that bloomed later this fall because the weather has been so warm became blistered with the frost and failed to open.  It is as if they were stopped in their tracks from opening and revealing the beauty within on these freezing mornings and warm, warm afternoons in northern California.

I have a pair of hand clippers and two loppers which I use to save my old hands.  I am pretty good at this and my co-workers were not doing the pruning.  Too girlie I guess.  Actually, they went off together as they usually do because it is some strange sexist male bonding thing to work together, and dug an enormous hole in one of the lawns.  They were looking for a water leak they never found.  Of course, this is the macho work that they seem to think needs doing.  As my mother used to say, "Another flock flew over."

I thought of roses as an analogy for my life today as something that is forbidding because of the pain those thorns incur even on gloved hands.  They bite and they have a simple beauty that forces us to endure their inflicted pain.  Life is difficult at times like today, last week or last month.  And yet life holds the beauty of a warm winter afternoon with robins nearby in the underbrush, sun on my tired shoulders and an appreciation of a paycheck tomorrow. 

Like roses, life has thorns and I do my best to admire the beauty that evolves, small and way big, while handling the sharpness of disappointment and struggles with gloves and a delicate touch for my sensitive heart.  I send out understanding to all who travel with me in hopes that they will find solace, peace and compassion tonight. May the road rise with you and may there be more than a few blooming rose bushes along the way.

Staying Can Be Herculean

Today's not so earth shattering inspiration for the day from Daily Wisdom-365 Buddhist Inspirations says: "No matter how hard you pursue pleasure or success,there are times when you fail. No matter how fast you flee, there are times when pain catches up to you."-Bhante Henepola Gunaratana.

OK, maybe it can be earth shattering if one can crack the door to the great unknown of life.  I am having a difficult time staying, having traversed the emotional landscape in a rusted out jalopy with bald tires and a steaming radiator.  Figurative of course.  Just the same, I have tried every exit sign this week, railed against the gates that would not open, justified my anger and my fear with some lame story in my head that repeats...you are a loser that is why...and then just tried to get to the finish line and wonder.

Friday night I went straight to the gym and went swimming after work in the oncoming twilight of evening.  There was a full moon appearing through the stark branches of the trees and the sound of traffic coming up around us three swimmers.  It was a bit of bliss with the outdoor pool a fine degrees and I felt a baptismal of water and relief come over me.  A hot shower afterwards and some quickly consumed Mexican food at El Patio rounded out my escape from a hour a week gardening job that is much less than I had originally hoped for in life.

Saturday came and went with some sleep, Qigong in the park, a few errands and a late evening grocery trip to Oliver's Market.  Shopping later in the evening when everyone else is home having a life can actually be fun. I saw the very petite, young produce worker hauling her cart to the back of store with admiration and desire.  Desire for her job actually, not her. If she can work there so could I.  I wish, I wish, I wish. 

I walk into grocery stores as if someone going to a car showroom. Strange but true.  I check out there presentation and yearn for a place there.  Is anyone home?  What happened to grocery jobs being working class opportunities.  Now it seems completely out of reach but still wished for and perplexing. Maybe this will be one of those times when I fail.  I just have a hard time believing it and so I continue to resent, yearn, resent, dream, accept, dream and maybe resent again.  The grief cycle of looking for a good job in America.

Sunday is here and I made some Chandra's Chai, ate cinnamon rolls and now for a dog walk and a run.  Maybe I will find some peace out there in the bright, sunny morning of this day.  May you all find that wherever you are in the world.

Emily And The Ping Pong Game

Sometimes, in life, we all have dark nights of the soul.  For some of us who are more connected to our hearts and emotions than the Internet, they can be bleak times where one feels alone and full of confusion.  For me, though some may call me a whiner, I feel things deeply and I observe a great number of details about people and life in general and internalize the experience as if I were a witness not a participant.  I know that I am not alone. 

I am noticing the silence more this week and putting one tired foot in front of the other.  It is unnaturally warm here in northern California and I find joy in the warmth of the sun on my back, the blue, blue sky, a job well done at work, sleep, an extra cup of Joe in the morning and cultivating more compassion for myself.  I picked up one of Pema Chodron's books that I read before and started it again-The Places That Scare You.

I do sit in meditation for a bit each morning though it is brief after looking for work, making my lunch, sometimes walking the dogs in the dark pre-dawn and it is important to me.  I ask for guidance from something that I don't know exists.  I sometimes ask with great emotion and sometimes I am already afraid of the day.  Sometimes I can feel great sorrow for my struggles and sometimes it is enough to simply know that I am here trying to do good. This morning I asked for help and I asked that it be obvious.

A warm day of pruning and schlepping branches along with Mr. Big I and II led eventually to the afternoon break.  Usually, Mr. Big I plays ping pong with King Richard and I enjoy watching them and listening to their insults as a gateway to male bonding.  Today, there was no game and everyone must have been off checking their phones.  So, I went to sit near the table and eat a snack and take my hat off.  A surprise met me in the guise of a young girl who was hitting the ping pong ball and then running to the other side of the table to hit it in the other direction.

I sat and ate my snack and watched.  She must be about nine or so and had blue and purple checked high tops on that are way cool.  Being my awkward adult self, I was thinking that maybe Mr. Big I would come along and play with her.  Instead, she asked me if I would like to play with her.  I jumped up and we played at playing with each other, each of us a kid, each of us not that great at it but having fun.  It was unexpected and wonderful for me. It made my day. When her grandma came to get her, I asked her name and she said, "Emily."  I thanked her and she then turned and looked at me and said, "I'll be here tomorrow too."

I thought as I returned to my cart and the rest of my day of work, what if God can look like a child in high tops?  What if that was God?  It sure was a surprise and it had quirky obviousness to it.  Emily and the ping pong game shifted everything for me from darkness into light and it was a wish granted on a sunny afternoon in northern California.

Top Posts Of 2011

It is natural to look back at the year that is about to be a year in the life of a few.  Natural as sleeping, yearning, struggling, laughing, dreaming, deciding, working like a dog, eating, becoming angry then accepting and starting over.

I was unemployed and then employed and having a hard time with the tasks at hand.  My hands are having a hard time. My poor hands.

I  dreamt of working for Whole Foods then let that go as the 100th application was rejected.  I dreamt of working for a local grocer, Oliver's, then felt the same thing as they refused to consider me for other jobs than the graveyard position.  It is their company or rather, the HR woman who is the honcho is the decider. So, it continues to be out of reach.  Who knew that a grocery job was an impossible thing for such an enthusiastic fan?  Who knew.

I feel so fortunate to have spent time with two women friends in the last year who are amazing women.  We find time after my work to meet for coffee and talk and talk about our lives.  I am in such fine company and I thank you both for allowing me to feel seen and heard and let me in to see you.  Bless you.  You are each such fine humans.  Artists and friends.

I am thankful to have been able to volunteer quite a bit and I hope to get back there.  I am also thankful for my family and partner who try to understand my pain and my joy in the context of being more than a little PTSD from leaving my profession of many years and stepping off the curb into traffic.  Bless you all.

Top Posts would have been all of the writings that I attempt to publish here because in doing so, great writing or ranting, I allow the spirit that is me to have wings and pull against the fury that sometimes rails against my breastbone.  A writer's lament is always writing nonetheless. 

Happy New Year to everyone and my hope for you is peace, comfort, understanding and unexpected joy. My hope for myself is a better job that allows me to be me and thrive.  Come on 2012!

"I Do Believe In Ghosts, I Do, I Do"

A malevolent sliver of a moon hangs over Santa Rosa tonight shielded by grey clouds that obscure the truth of its stark white visage.  Today the manager of our department was fired for reasons that remain gossip.  The ED fired him and then walked his rotund self back to the Commons dining room where managers were providing lunch as a post-holiday treat for staff.  Before I went into the dining room, I heard the news that the man who hired me had been fired.  I lost my appetite right then.

This is the third firing of a high ranking staff member in a little over three months.  There is something going on and I am not making it up.  I was furious that Mr. M. had been fired and even madder at Mr. Big II who seemed unconcerned.  Even another co-worker had some lame justification for the firing though he doesn't really know why.  My co-workers who have been hired by the man who was fired-a 19 year veteran-seemed unmoved to fury or sadness.  They seemed to feel nothing at all.

For me, my co-workers reactions are as odd as the string of firings that seem business as usual at a formerly Quaker run organization.  I remembered that feeling that my former co-workers seemed to be like cattle in the shoot ready for slaughter.  I have feelings and for that, I am grateful.  I have ethics and for that, I am very grateful.  I have a sense of honesty and integrity and for that, I thank a program of recovery.  So, it made me feel ill that my co-workers could not muster the feeling of sticking up for our boss that he deserved. 

There is a tyrant afoot where we work and she is not even a local.  So far she is cutting a swath that includes anyone who stands up to her.  In my neck of the woods, we call that kind of person a bully. If you believe in karma, there will be a day of reckoning. For us, it cannot come fast enough. I am reminded of the idea that believing in ghosts is not the same as having your soul stalked by one.