Polishing The Crystal

I am all too familiar with what it means to be unemployed and it can be challenging to find ways to give back to life and remain engaged.  That sounds so Jean Luc Piccard but then, I am an old Trekkie.  I have lined up at least one volunteer stint and I must say, it is an amazing place to be giving my time away to a superb cause.

The food bank where I also volunteer inherited an antique store that has been revitalized by two brilliant men who know merchandising and antiques.  Actually, there appears to be a team of people who volunteer who know about the value of very old things. 

I show up to dust and clean.  I am a tiny droplet in an ocean of energy that makes the store a revenue source for the food bank.  It has been, so far, a much different experience than most antique stores.  Also, they play very danceable club music.  There is a wonderful dog named Jacaranda who sits at the door and greets customers.  When Jac is on duty, she wears pearls.  No kidding.  She is an awesome dog.

Mostly, I dust or clean and I have to hold my breath sometimes because the items are very breakable and I have to go very slow.  I see so many incredible Martini glasses, fluted vases, china sets, teapots and much more.  The crystal decanters yesterday were like holding something from Tiffany's.  Such heft.  The light from the windows refracts through the designs of these amazing pieces of art to a form of prismatic glory that is hypnotising.

It is a little like Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium with a purpose. Maybe more like a Leprechaun's dream of what being of service can really look like when you still feel like a kid in a candy store.

An Old Woman And Her Zap Bicycle

Yesterday morning Elsie died.  True, she was 97 and had lived many years of a hedonistic life that seems to have ended just how she would have planned for it, if she could tell us her story.

Elsie was a curmudgeon to some, willful, proud and suffering no fools in life.  She was a Vassar graduate and a nudist in her early adulthood.  Actually, that nudist thing was more of who she was to the very end.  A great story goes around about Elsie answering the door for the cable guy in the buff.  I would think that he was surprised by that and especially because she was in her late years by then. Makes me smile thinking about it.

While I toiled as a Gardener where Elsie lived, I would see her from time to time on her Zap bike.  One sunny day while I pruned roses, I heard a strange noise coming down the walkway.  There, scooting along at a higher rate of speed than safe was Elsie.  Good thing no other elderly residents were strolling on the sidewalk because Elsie did not stop for other people. It made me grin to see her speed by.  How could I not?

Another day, while I worked on the tree rings in the green outside of her apartment, she came to sit in the covered swing, in the sun.  She fell fast asleep with her mouth open and I checked to watch her chest rise and fall.  She appeared very peaceful and yet, to me, I saw the deep loneliness of a woman who has lived her life fulfilling her own desires and not much concerned with the feelings of others.  Elsie was often abrupt though I admired her directness.  She was not codependent and that is an immense freedom to me. Both edges of a very strong saber.

Elsie was known to ride her Zap bike over to Oliver's Market for groceries and a double latte-something she loved.  She was 97 and so that is pretty damn amazing.  I keep that memory of her, jetting by, to bolster my sadness at her death.  However, I understand that the day before she died, Elsie had color in her cheeks and was on an adventure, on her Zap bike, for the perfect double latte.

I hope that I have the tenacity and fearlessness late in life that Elsie seemed to have right up to her take off. Ride on Elsie, ride on!

Comeuppance Came And Went

 I spent some time as a volunteer today trying to use a shovel to improve trails in my favorite hiking spot. I felt fortunate to do something, anything actually, to give back to the place where I feel peace and revel in the view. The weather was spectacular and many people showed up to help.

 As in life, there were the obvious know-it-alls that seem to come with life. I chose the smaller crew and just listened and walked slowly at times to enjoy the sounds of birds, wind in the trees and all that emerald green. It was such a lovely get away from my place of confusion. I am grateful to LandPaths for all that they do to allow the public onto open space lands so that we can breath and walk without having to be anyone special.

 Unfortunately, I found out, at day's end, that Mr. Big II, the holy man from Israel that I worked with, had been given the "Employee Of The Month" award at my former job. My blood began to boil with that news. This man, so trite in his holiness, offered harassment and continuous negative comments about my work every day. I tried a variety of ways to deal with his derision including rigorous honesty and tolerance. I tried and I tried.

Needless to say, I miss the residents, the campus and the sense of belonging that my job brought. I do not miss the tension in my body every day that I felt in danger.

It is important to note that I had no less than two meetings with the Supervisor who gave out this award, stating my ongoing feelings of harassment, isolation and criticism that were unwarranted. Although he seemed to understand, he did nothing.  Eventually, I chose to leave and save my own hide. Today, that seems like the absolute right thing to do in every way.

Comeuppance may have come and gone with "Employee Of The Month" but not my truth.

The Wheel Of Fortune

Yesterday afternoon as I was jetting down Hwy 12 westbound, I almost bought my lunch as two cars collided and spun off into the median.  I was, fortunately, in the right hand lane because another car had just been tailgating the hell out of me and I moved over to let that freaking bully get off my butt.  Now, I feel lucky to  have had the chance to get angry and do something about it that may have saved my life.

One just doesn't know what is coming and that is the mystery and the potential cause of fear in life.  We can go both ways every time we take an action.  For me, if I had been in the left hand lane, I may have hit one of those spinning cars head-on or just ended up in the mess.  That quickly, my physicality here on this earth would have been tested and perhaps, ended.  I feel grateful this morning, to have another chance to become complacent.

I am still a work in progress and so as I arrived at my afternoon volunteer gig, I was still there on the freeway watching a split second decision spin before me. Thankfully, the food bank moves fast and so I had many opportunities to move the eggs, fill zip-lock bags with pasta, help a client to her car with her groceries, pet a dog, smell some rosemary growing near the door, joke with another volunteer and ask the young St. Brigid about her last semester of high school.

I also met the new Food Drive Coordinator and congratulated her.  Truthfully, I wanted to apply for the job as the food bank is one of my favorite places.  I did not have the qualifications and yet when I met her very, very young self, there was that stab of understanding that I often have.  I am old now or at least, on paper.  The great jobs often go to younger job seekers.  It is as much an understanding of how that feels unfair as an understanding of the fact that I am getting way too old to be a job seeker.  I dyed my hair for the last job interview and yet I cannot hide the furrows emerging on my Celtic face. 

I am unsure if our new Food Drive Coordinator realized what a coup she just pulled off by becoming an employee at a food bank where clients are not just served, they are loved.  In fact, you can be anyone you are, client or volunteer, and you are loved.  It is an amazingly bright place that offers food to the 650 men, women and children in Sonoma County living with HIV.  It is also amazing because with a small hand full of paid staff, the food bank runs on the energy of volunteers who make the place hum. 

Today, on this golden morning in Northern California, where the chickadees, the resident blue jay and a pair of mourning doves all came to eat seed, I give thanks to the many people in live whom I love and wish them a glorious Sunday in March.  May we all travel in the slow lane this week and appreciate another day of life.

Two Different Fathers

I have been living with the changes inside my mind about changes in my life this week.  I have paced a bit and worried, of course, and come back around to feeling the freedom beneath my tennies bouncing back up at me.  The cycle of letting go, grieving with sadness, denial or blame and then calm.  Trusting the process isn't one of my strong points and I can get there.

I am running more, reading more, drinking more tea, discerning stress tucked in job announcements and just trying to use the magnifier that comes with hard knocks.  I am open to new ideas and a few have come to visit.  Today as I was looking for work on the Internet I turned my head to look out the window and an Acorn woodpecker was walking up the trunk of the Maple outside my window.  Just then, a gift.

I listened to an NPR program that was so riveting that I had to sit in the car to finish it.  Fresh Air had an interview with Frank Calabrese Jr. about his book Operation Family Secrets.  I listened to the choices that Frank Jr. made about the life he was drawn into by his mobster father and wondered where that kind of courage comes from inside.  A frightening almost surreal account of murder and revenge is enough to make us wonder what kind of father would jeopardize a son.  Yet Frank Jr.'s father enjoyed killing people and using his sons to achieve those end results were part of the plan.

http://www.npr.org/2012/03/02/147725615/frank-calabrese-jr-on-opening-his-family-secrets

The second part of my afternoon was spent with a man who took us for a hike on Taylor Mtn. nearby on a very sunny and warm afternoon here.  He is a man who hikes there often and showed us ways to hike across the emerald green hillsides above the Santa Rosa plain.  I found out as we hiked that our friend was raised by Mormon parents though he is a very loving and compassionate Quaker now in life.

He told us the story of his own father who helped him to find his way after High School.  His father told our friend that "his job was to get an education" and not to go off on a Morman mission as most young men of their faith do. This strategic choice for our friend changed his life dramatically.  Loving, real and courageous, our friend moved on to psychiatry and a different faith altogether.  Many times, our friend has offered me words of support and he continues to offer just that to the co-workers whom I left behind now feeling under seige from what I call "The Unholy Trinity."

I am stunned by the character of both sons in these two stories as being so similar and yet with very different fathers. Where does that depth of character come from and how does it steer us toward certain choices?  I was left with more questions than answers today and that is just fine with me. 

Asking the question doesn't neccessarily beg the answer these days and I am fortunate to see the magic in the space in-between.

Walking The Way We Talk

I have little to say lately that I am sure of and that, for a writer, might just be writer's block.  Today though is a bright, blue, cold morning in Northern California that holds the promise of a Sunday adventure in the Mini and that always opens up the horizon in front of me. 

Last night we had dinner with some former co-workers and residents from the wonderful campus where I worked for five months as a gardener.  I miss them so much.  I miss my place there and the beauty and their stories.  Such kind, real and strong older folks.  My role models to be sure. I came home light and full of contentment which has been challenging lately as I find some distance from the difficulties of the near past. Especially distance from Mr. Big I and II, a strange shaming interraction with a Chiropractor and a Grocery Store manager. 

 I am doing well, considering where I have been, finding new volunteer opportunities, finishing up an online class that I have been taking and doing some home projects.  I am getting bored though.  Boredom is a sticky wicket for me as the "shame machine" starts to cough and sputter. That piece of machinery can be the source of pain if I let the gears begin to whine at a high rate of speed.  My mind will sort out the most negative messages from the "shame machine" and twist the past into some kind of blame game that is far from the truth.  Other people will try to do that with us and we don't need to shovel the coal that fuels that monster.

There is different way.

 "...If I feel ashamed, I need a reality check because my thinking is probably distorted. Even though it may take great courage, if I share about it with a (friend), I will interrupt the self-destructive thoughts and make room for a more loving and nurturing point of view.  With a little help, I may discover that even my most embarrassing moments can bless my life by teaching me to turn in a more positive direction..." -Courage To Change, One Day At A Time In Al-Anon II

This is not an easy project and yet it can be the most loving way to create nueropathways that open up into bright, sunlit mornings on our lifetime of challenges.  This is my journey and I want to be a part of the solution for myself instead of part of the source of darkness.  That is a tune I can whistle all day long.

"Live And See What Happens"

Life is often a big mystery to me and yet I try so hard to know myself better and better in time.  I do not always understand my reactions nor give them the attention that they deserve.  With that, I can say that I have chosen and was reminded of a famous saying that Kay Flynn often claimed.

Kay Flynn was a co-worker nurse friend of my mother's and she came to stay in one of our "guest" rooms for a time.  Flynn had a very healthy drinking problem and yet she often had such right on comments about life like "Live And See What Happens." Maybe she just knew or maybe she had lived through many hard times and allowed for the hardships and the joy to ebb and flow along with her favorite alcoholic beverage.  Just the same, her saying today is spot on as they say and it may just become the moniker of my second half of 2012.

Live and see what happens.