One is the Magic Number

No hay nadie mas que yo,
Uno es el numero magico
En vida y en muerte,
Uno es todo
Comprende

If I multiply 2 times 2 is it really, really 4 me

And if I add 5 to get 9 minus 8 that just leaves me

So many times I define my pride
Through somebody else's eyes
Then I looked inside and found my own stride,
I found the lasting love for me
If I'm searching for my spirituality
Passionately I must begin with me

There's just me...
One is the magic number

If I add myself unto myself multiplied times
You and yours and you again
There's just me
And if I divide 8 billion, 48 trillion, 98 zillion
There is, there is just me
If I subtract one plus me to the 5th degree,
Use any theorem
There's just me

There's just me...
One is the magic number

Me, me, me, me...

~Jill Scott

Saying Goodbye

Bidding a fond farwell to the spirit of Ms. Rosa Parks.
Knowing that the fight she participated in is still in progress. ..
We are all part of the continuing struggle for freedom, peace, and liberty.
For EVERYONE.

Lucy Mae

In the early morning hours… Around 3am when the moon was full and the storm clouds opened up with the gift of rain… My aunt Lucy took leave of this plane of existence.

As sad as I am, as much as I will miss her and mourn her passing, I know she is finally free from the cage of suffering that was once her strong, vital and beautiful physical self. I know that she was tired.

Growing up in Louisiana, in 1930's, one of the surviving female children in a brood of 10… She became a caretaker early on in life. She took care of her brothers, helped her mother until she passed, and participated in all the domestic activities put upon young women at that time. But hers was a special lot, because she was also a young black woman. Fair skinned and fair tempered.. Mostly… Aunt Lucy made a life of taking care of people. It became her calling and she was extraordinary at it.

Her youngest brother, my father, did not make her days easy. Daddy was always getting into trouble and Lucy Mae was always getting him out of it. Although sometimes there was just no hope. Because Daddy was the youngest and Lucy cared for him the longest, their bond was tight, and remains so.

Lucy's childhood was rudely interrupted by marriage at the age of 14. She married Howard, a much older man and began her life as a wife and mother. Moved from Louisiana to California, right around the corner from her little brother, she lived, loved, laughed and went to church every Sunday.

Though I miss her terribly… I know that she is finally at peace.

Resting after raising five children…
-Working two and three jobs at a time to make ends meet
One of my favorite memories of being with her and my cousins was going with them on Friday and Saturday nights to help clean the corporate building (one of her jobs). I was always so excited when she would let me tag along with them, because it meant I could stay up late and be with my cousins. We would pile into her van and head out to the building around 7:30 at night. After arriving, she would give each of us a job to do: dusting, trash duty, bathrooms, mirrors floors. We were armed with cleaning gear and gloves and headed to our respective duties.

Being kids, of course this was fun. We may have a hard time cleaning our own rooms, but cleaning offices was different. Once we were finished, we would run around the building playing “Office”. Pretending we worked at this company.. talking on the phone to each other, giving orders. Aunt Lucy would finally tire of the ruckus and round us up (grabbing ears if she had to) for home by 11:30. We would be exhausted and smelling of pine sol and Windex, from having so much fun.



She is resting after sixty some years of marriage… to one man.
-Does that even happen anymore? No one stays married to the same person that long these days. And I know for a fact this is was not easy. My uncle was and is a strong willed, 6ft 4 man who ruled his roost. Or at least that is what he thought. As handsome and mean as my uncle was, my beautiful aunt, petite next to him, went toe to toe when she had to. Aunt Lucy had a wicked smile. Soft and sweet. Gentle as a little butterfly. Then suddenly it would change..the smile would still be there but gentleness would be all but gone.

Now she is free…
No worry, no pain, no need to take care of everybody else.

Well, maybe that is not true. Because the thought that helps me keep it all together, is knowing that she is now one of our guardian angels. Still taking care of all of us…

Katrina

The etymology of this name points to royalty, but it also points to torture. We are undoubtedly in the midst of the torture Katrina has wrought. A natural disaster of unspeakable destruction, in line with the Tsunami in Asia...maybe worse. If that is possible. Cities filled with people left to survive or die on their own. Federal responses that reek of race and class discrimination at worst, and simple unpreparedness in the face of critical warnings at best.

For the survivors..... For the victims.... For my family...

I, too sing America
I am the darker brother
They send me to eat in kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong

Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody will dare say to me
"Eat in the Kitchen"
Then.

Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed~

I, too, am America

What Stress can do

No surprise to anyone that stress can really mess you up.
Six months on the job, dealing with an unbalanced staff..
and handling the rest of your life, will send anyone to the ER...

Barbara Cross

Barbara Elizabeth Cross
Feb. 21, 1942 - July 20, 2005

They say that when you see a date like this... it is important for you and for the person it represents to understand that neither of the dates listed are as critical and important as the dash in the middle. It represents an entire lifetime.

I met Barbara when I got my first job at University. She was the first to embrace me with warmth and welcome. I remember she said "I'll show you the important things that everyone will forget to tell you, like where the bathrooms are.." We giggled. She not only showed me where the bathrooms were, she showed me how to be good friend and co-worker. Barbara may have been physically frail, but her spirit was strong. She had come through a lot in her lifetime, but she continued each day to make it better for herself, her family and her friends.

Since that first job, I have moved around quite a bit... And even though I was no longer in the same office with Barbara, even though we did not speak every day...she was still my friend, and when we did see each other we picked up where we left off. Through all of that time, Barbara always managed to find me so she could send a birthday card my way. I am going to miss that card this year. Not as much as I will miss her spirit.

Rest in Peace

Murphy Brown

You remember Murphy Brown, don't you?
I loved this show because I thought it was funny, smart and politically interactive with what was happening in government and news at the time it was on air. There was the on-going feud with Dan Quayle, who is about as intelligent as our current chief. (Thank goodness they did not run on the same ticket! Can you imagine?)

Well, “Murphy Brown” is now my new nickname and it cracks me up. How did it come about that I would have this pseudo moniker? Think of all of Murphy's secretaries… most of them suffering some sort of mental disability.. A few who actually were good but simply could not tolerate her. To some degree, I suffer from the Murphy Brown Syndrome.

As I have climbed the career ladder, I have been given an increasing number of employees to supervise. This is truly invaluable experience because I can imagine few other ways in which you are constantly tested by any number of people who either seek your ultimate demise or are completely ambivalent. In each position I have held, I have inherited a “personnel problem”. Of course, I am not the only one who has these issues, I simply have had them more consistently, or maybe not.

In any new situation, I understand that people will have a problem with me as their “boss” (I really hate that word), as their supervisor, so I am not expecting any red carpet treatment, and rarely do I receive it. Actually, I have never received it.

Currently, I have Evilina as my receptionist and she is hell-bent on making my life miserable. But I won't have it. What she and others don't know about me is that behind the friendly face and desire to make good, lurks a woman who has the capacity to rip your entrails out and serve them to you for lunch. Let's hope it does not come to that. However, Beulah the Bitch (my alternate ego for this particular situation) is on her way. Once she arrives and takes residence, there won't be much that can be done to deter her.

Hold on, I hear a knock at my office door.
Uh oh.. Gotta go. It's Beulah and she has her suitcase.

Implicit Association

Here is a great tool to check your own biases... Find out what you really think...

https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/demo/selectatest.html

41 Years to Justice

Almost the totality of my lifetime thus far

41 years…
41 Bullets…
There is some magic to the number 41 when it comes to doing right and doing wrong with People of Color in these United States.
(And by the way, I happen to love my country!)

1964 brought many things… among them the hurricane force winds of change. Civil rights for those who have been repressed, oppressed and depressed through a systematic governmental doctrine of inhumanity.

A particular 3 men, two Jewish and one African American joined the Freedom Riders to make a difference. To effect a change. That opportunity was snatched as each of these young men was brutally and purposefully murdered in cold rigid blood. On the whim of men who thought they had the right to take another human beings life. Men who did so and walked away to live out the rest of their days content and satisfied to have eliminated what they considered to be human vermin. The families of those young boys have been left a lifetime of suffering and loss.

I am somewhat amazed that during the first trial, in 1967, an all white jury was hung 11-1 in favor of conviction. That “1” could not convict a preacher. Obviously a reverence no longer held for those who inhabit the Preacher/Priest roles in our society today. My mother had a saying about that, “The devil always has a front row seat in church on Sunday”. It is a great disguise. But I digress…

Today this unrepentant Klansman of 80 years was sentenced to 60 years in jail -20 years for each life. Although the judge who imposed the sentence “took no pleasure” in it, I must say that I do. I am glad that he will live out his remaining bitter and painful days in a prison of his own making. Much like the graves he and his friends dug for the men they planned to kill. Finally. I recognize that these words are written with an unforgiving heart… I am just not that enlightened yet.

Chaney Schwerner Goodman

I hope this is not viewed as a closure. Ending a painful chapter of American history. This is just the beginning. My hope is that all of those who participated in the lynchings, mutilations, burnings, public humiliations, taking body parts of the Men, Women and Children they tortured and murdered, be made accountable for their crimes. Is that too much to ask in the land of the free? Forget my 40 acres and a mule (which they did), give me justice.

Empty Nest

Single in the City means a lot of things. It means that you are truly free to come and go as you like. But you are probably so busy with work and family that you end up in as much of a routine as married soccer Moms may find themselves. Granted, if this happens you do have the option to run away and do your thing without having to get permission or find a good babysitter.

If you have not guessed, I am single. And I have found myself in a bit of a routine between work and home that is making me feel the need to shake it up…. A lot! But there has been a part of my routine that is now changed forever. Usually getting into work before 7am and home after6, I hop in my car and tool home, ready to relax. As I climb the stairs from the underground parking lot, mumbling to myself about the highlights or lowlights of the day, I begin to hear the cacophony of children at play. Laughing, screaming, and running around. At the top of stairs I turn the corner, headed to my apartment, I enter the fray.

“My” kids are an international group of 4-5 depending on the day. Korean, Indian and European American. They always stop and surround me as I make my way to my front door. Sometimes they would chase me up the stairs and I would have to tickle each of them, leaving them in piles of laughter as I ran to the door and closed it before they collected enough strength for another onslaught. The closing of my front door usually ended the game until the next day. But not always. Sometimes it continued with knocking and running away when I opened the door, or pushing their way in only to be chased back out again.

When they weren’t chasing me, or trying to tickle me, or hanging onto my bags as I ascended the stairs, they would stop and ask me questions. My main interrogator was 5 year old Charlie. He was very curious and not at all shy about getting the information he felt he needed. He would ask: Where did you go today? What do you do at work? How long are there? Are you going tomorrow? How about on Saturday? What is in your bags? Do you live alone? Why? How come you are not married? How old are you? Where is your Mom and Dad? Are you a baby? The list goes on…and on. I think Charlie is going to be a journalist or writer someday. He patiently waited for an answer to each of his questions and he thoughtfully took aim for the next.

Two weeks ago Charlie told me he is moving home. I asked him where. He said home to Korea. I looked at my little friend and told him that I was going to miss him very much. He smiled and said okay. About 20 minutes later, there was a knock on my door. I looked through the peephole and saw nothing. The knocking continued. I opened the door and it was Charlie. He said he would miss me too and gave me a hand written note that explained it all. I was his friend. I gave him a big hug and thanked him. 10 minutes later, there was another knock on my door. It was my little Charlie. This time he gave me a picture he’d drawn of me and him.

Early on a Saturday morning, I was awakened from sleep by people making quite a lot of noise for 5:30am on a weekend. I peered out of my window and saw that it was Charlie and his family moving out. I watched for a minute then got up to make some coffee.

Now when I come home after work, there are no children playing. No one chasing me up the stairs hoping I will tickle them, no one asking 20 questions about my day and my life. And I miss them. Especially Charlie.

The M Word

Isn’t funny, this feeling inside….?
I am fascinated by the thoughts and ideas of those around me..Particularly on the topic of Love and Marriage. For many women I know they really don’t go together like a horse and carriage. .

Western society has its traditions and mores that most of us unconsciously conform to without much question. A marriage is between a man and a woman. This concept is now being challenged and we are bristling under what we think are moral issues, when in fact they are simply the pains of evolution. Moving to a higher level of understanding. We will move to a place where marriage is the union of two people in love. Between men, women, black, white, brown and yellow. Remember when “miscegenation” was illegal? Technically it probably still is on the books in some states as an act against the system. Thankfully our system is dynamic and growing as we grow.

But what about the union itself? I am having more frequent discussions with people about the whole idea of marriage. R. who married late in life at age 44 thinks the institution is archaic. Granted, she is still married to her “first husband”, a man she has known for most of her life. And she is happy. I think. But she does opine on what would be better alternatives. As we sit in our little bar that we congregate in after work on Fridays, I listen to her thoughts.

For her an ideal union is no union at all, at least not on paper. If she were Queen, people would have serial relationships that involve no paperwork, no legal commitment. One could have a partner, and if one happens to meet someone else interesting one could spend time with them as well. There is no requirement to live together or for the symbolic jewelry. You would have the freedom to design your own relationship(s) as if best for you.

Intriguing. However, I do know that I am not evolved enough to participate in this society. For very long.

Another Queen-Dom would have it so that you would find your mate, marry, produce offspring and really be able to keep that spark of love alive for a lifetime.

Now this is more in line with my own Hollywood brainwashed fantasies. And if you marry late enough in life, but not too late, you may be able to pull it off.

My ideas, however, are bit more tame. Probably somewhere in between the extremes of finding a guy you can do whatever you want with (or without) and the "Untrue" Hollywood story. Just marry the man I think I want to spend my life with. Create a life together that we enjoy. Be sure to have a space in my house that can serve as a personal sanctuary. My getaway. Laugh. Fight. Make up. Make Love. Travel.

I admit that I do not want to live alone forever. I have been on my own my entire adult life. The thought of change is frightening and exciting….but it can also be good. With one caveat:
Never love anyone more than you love yourself.
My mother’s advice… I follow it..

What is your ideal?

911 What is your emergency?

Caller: I am calling because a woman was just injured at the café I am sitting in and she might need medical assistance.

Operator: What is the emergency?

Caller: We were sitting outside at tables with umbrellas overhead, and it became a bit windy. The wind blew over one of the umbrellas and it hit an elderly lady on the head. She does not look good.

Operator: What? Why would someone hit an old lady on the head with an umbrella?

Caller: No. You don’t understand. Picture a patio with a table and chairs. Now picture a table with chairs, the table has a hole in the middle of it. A giant umbrella is placed in the hole in table in order to provide shade for those who sit at that table.

Operator: Oh I see. Now are you saying someone took that table umbrella out of the hole and hit the lady on the head?

Caller: (exasperated now) No! The WIND blew the umbrella over and the umbrella hit the lady on the head!

Operator: Hold on. You have the wrong department.

New Operator: 911 What is your emergency?

Caller: Sigh… We were sitting outside at tables with umbrellas overhead, and it became a bit windy. The wind blew over one of the umbrellas and it hit an elderly lady on the head. She does not look good.

Operator: Okay, is she conscious?

Caller: Yes, but not responding verbally.

Operator: We are sending someone over.

Caller: Thank you!

Paramedics arrive and sit at the table with the injured elderly lady. They question her and assess her injury. After 20 minutes, they decide she will be fine and move to leave. The caller at the café asks one of the paramedics about calling 911. “Why was it so difficult to get help for this lady”? Paramedic tells the caller it is because the caller used her cell phone. Anytime there is a 911 call from a cell phone it is automatically directed to Highway Patrol as it is thought to be a traffic incident. Once they determine that it's not related to traffic, they re-route the call to regular operators.

Make a note to yourself…Calling for help that is not traffic related from a cell will delay your response time. In the meantime, pray that you will never need to make that call...

Crabs in a Barrel

I know you have heard that saying before. Referencing the sad fact that some people are just like crabs in a barrel. What happens when you catch crab and put them in a bucket or barrel, their survival instinct turns on and some of them will try to escape, try to climb out of that situation back to freedom. The crabs below see that and having no hope for their own survival or escape, they pull those freedom seeking survivalists back down into the mire with them. Some people are like those crabs… unfortunately, some people I know are this way. Thankfully not many…

Exhibit A
Black Woman is offered a promotional position and accepts. Soon thereafter, she finds out that one of her colleagues, dare I say “friends” was in competition with her for this position. Woman tells her friend (who is also Black) the exciting news looking for celebration. Instead her friend tells her that she is not really qualified for the position and the only reason Woman got this offer is because they were looking for a certain “image”. Not because of any particular gift or talent or level of experience. Woman is not really qualified according to friend and the offer should have gone to her. Even though Woman has worked for 15 years climbing and reaching for something better. Went back to school to earn her MBA. Something that the friend had not done, yet feels superior.

Little crab in the barrel pulls down on the little crab leg of one climbing up on its own hard work and effort.

Exhibit B
Black Woman, who has earned her PhD and now works with high level administrators in an education setting, uses the Dr. title that she has earned. What audacity! Black colleague in association with other non-Black colleagues demean and denigrate Black Woman behind her back. They ask themselves and each other, “Who is she to demand that we address her as Dr.?” “What did she get her degree in anyway?” “She must think she is special when all she really is a secretary or something”. “She is just a stuck up bitch, or should I say Dr. Bitch”.

Insidious.

Rather than rejoicing in the success and achievements of others, these people sit comfortably in their corners passing judgment and defiling character. They go to church every Sunday praising their Lord, so they can start fresh on Monday with new deeds to commit against those in their path. All the while they smile and have coffee with you, asking how they can assist, give you a hand. Never take the hand of a “crab”.

East meets West

Ouch. I thought to myself. “They said this would not hurt”.

Okay. I am going to slide another in. Now let me know if it stings. It should ache, but it should not sting or really be painful. Let me know if anything is uncomfortable for you.

Actually, this entire experience is just a little uncomfortable. New…and admittedly a bit exciting But I tend to like new, exciting and sometimes uncomfortable things. Isn’t that why I keep taking new jobs? Where I am miserable at first, then excited at all I think I am learning..then ultimately bored and looking for something else. Isn’t that why I do strange things like bungee jumping? Whitewater rafting? Camping in the wilderness? Dating men from Africa? Driving in LA?

Okay. That one did not hurt…but it does ache. Now I feel it. Is that good? Or does it mean I have lots of work to be done? More likely the latter. My mind is going a million miles a minute. She said to try and relax. Here on this table, in a medical gown, needles protruding from my arms, legs, feet. I am trying not to move so that I don’t jiggle the needles further into my skin. Breathe. I must keep breathing.

Actually, this is not so painful. I mean I do feel it, but it doesn’t hurt per se. She has left the room now. Left me to my own thoughts..feelings. When she left, she told me to go to a place that relaxes you and makes you feel good. I did. The first place that came to mind was a Sunday morning in bed with Harvard… Cool and breezy… relaxed and just being together under the covers, talking about our families..our future. Cracking jokes and just being together with no pretenses. It was wonderful. That is where I was when suddenly I started crying, What the heck was this all about? I am in good place in my mind. It must be these needles. But how? Whatever..it is passing now.

When she returns I realize that I have taken my mind to a different scene. The beach at sunset always seems to work for me and it did again. When she spoke, she told me that she did a journey on me. Huh? Well I am a Shaman as well, she says. You gave me permission to do a journey on you, remember. I did. She said she lifted a block from my chest and from my back. Maybe that is why I cried. I had a burden relieved without my knowledge. She twisted the needles and chatted with me while. Umph. I felt the twists.
But now I was focused on the journey. She asked me about a fire. Was I involved in a fire when I was young? Not that I know of. “How about your mother? Maybe when she was pregnant with you?” Hmmmm. Good question. I will ask. She said I should, but it could also be symbolic.

Dressed now and talking about my first experiences with acupuncture and Shamanism, she tells me that this is where it gets to be fun. I get to be my own detective. To search for reasons why this asthma has gripped for a lifetime. Was it that my soul was not ready to come into this life? Stifled … Oppressed. Repressed.. Or was it simply allergies that manifested into a disease?

How do you feel?
I feel lighter, I said. Good. Let’s schedule your next appointment.
I am not sure how this will make a difference in my life…my daily living, but I know that it will. It already has. If nothing else, this is one of the most positive environments I have been in of late. My acupuncturist gives positive feedback as she slides those needles under my skin. I feel valued and important. Someone has recognized something good in my being and has let me know.

That in itself is making a difference

Weekend Buddha

Friday-noon are becoming two of my most coveted words to put together. Mostly because it represents time I will have for myself. To myself. Unless, of course, a family member requests my presence to which I rarely say no. Not out of some obligation (okay, on occasion), but mostly because I usually am in dire need of that intense Love I can get only from them. It can wash away all of the negativity, stress, concern and worry that I have allowed to be heaped on my shoulders. One giant hug from my niece sets me on a better course.

On this Friday afternoon, I am working on company concerns that will need to be addressed early next week. Meetings that I am not particularly looking forward to, but I know they are interactions that will help me grow as a manager and advocate. I am finding this role as manager possesses a duality that I could not see clearly before. You are there to represent employees as well as employer while keeping everyone satisfied. A true impossibility and a balancing act that many have proven successful. My outcomes are still to be determined.

The weather is cooperating with my mood. I want to stay in… watch movies..relax on the couch and eat ice cream. It is so much easier to do that when the skies are gray and rain is moving in. But I can't be lazy! I still have to prepare for the coming week's mission in the midst of these two days. Weekends are never long enough! And bringing work home interferes with my Zen practice of living in the moment. Always thinking about and anticipating the future. And so it goes…

Here's to your weekend, and to mine! Whatever we get into, whatever comes our way, may we enjoy it in the moment even as we plan for all of the moments we hope to have in the future!

Stepping out on Faith

These days and months have been flying by.
How can it already be time to file taxes? In all honesty, I think this is a date that sneaks up on almost everyone. Although there are those few admired and envied people who had their taxes completed, refund received and spent by January. It is apparent I am not one of them and will never be.

I guess when one's life is filled with stress, good and/or bad, it just seems to make the earth spin a bit faster, and all you can do is hold on and keep stepping.

I have recently accepted a new job, which on the face of it, is absolutely wonderful! It has been my goal to continue to improve my station in life in ways that are meaningful to me. One of the ways is to work hard, particularly as I get older, at maximizing my income as best I can. This new position was a step in that direction and I am truly happy and grateful. However, there was so much negative/positive emotion initially attached to this accomplishment, that I don't feel that I have been able to embrace the complete picture of my good fortune. The fact that I am still figuring out what I am doing and have not regained my confidence yet, has much to do with my general apprehension as well.

So here I step out on faith that I made the right decision and things will work out, as they should.

The boyfriend is back. Yes. The same one that sent me into a complete tailspin of depression and ...
Is now back trying hard to rectify his wrong. To be what he should have been from the beginning. When I look back on the loves in my life, as this incident has forced me to do, I wonder how I even survived some of the madness that is part of my history. And I know that most women look into their past with similar thoughts. It truly is amazing the strength we conjure when we need it. When we have no other choice. So here again, I must believe that everything happens for a reason. That my love for this man has some lesson for me. Some lesson for him...

Faith

So often we find ourselves doing the hard work of daily survival all alone. Working to make our lives, the lives of those we love better each day. Being tired and still moving forward. Still smiling and laughing.

Truly amazing.
My new mantra is: Jump. And the net will appear.

Flight of the Butterfly

No offense to the bumblebee

Beautiful San Diego, in the last few days has become even more spectacular!

Walking outside seems as if you are walking through a scene from Alice In WonderLand as you are surrounded by migrating butterflies with each step. They are flying all round you, bumping into you and enlightening your path with their beauty.

The rare migration of the Painted Lady Butterfly is in full swing and they are not detered by humans, cars or buildings in their way. Unfortunately, all of them will not make it to their final destination, but witnessing the process is utterly incredible.

They say that the beat of a butterfly wing can have an effect around the globe. Here is to positive effects and gorgeous ramifications!

http://biomed.ucsd.edu/butterfly.htm

Politicians

Everyone seems so very interested and surprised that President Clinton and President Daddy Bush are on the road together to help raise money for the victims of the Tsunami. When I hear these discussions on MSNBC and Fox news, it makes me cringe. No. It simply frustrates me. This partnership is by no means surprising. Their ability to interact with one another, cordially, for a common goal is no big whoop. They are politicians. That is what they do. Just because they are diametrically opposed in their political beliefs, does not mean they can never work together for a common good. This once an enemy always an enemy sentiment is simply unrealistic.
Webster defines a politician as a number of things. 1. One who seeks political office 2. One who seeks personal or partisan gain often by crafty or dishonest means. 3. One who is skilled in the science or administration of government.

This alliance will only work for the benefit of both men and probably both parties. But what should be most critical and worthwhile in reporting is that this alliance will benefit hundreds of thousands of people who have been disenfranchised by a natural disaster. Time to focus on the important aspects of what is being accomplished rather than being bogged down by the minutiae of party politics?

We have bigger issues to consider. This weekend I heard a story on NPR that focused on the news media. A retired media veteran was candid and honest about how the news on all levels has been dumbed down. How Americans in particular are so unaware of the realities of the operations of their own government, that they/we were truly surprised that anyone would want to attack us. That "people out there" did not like us, and we don't seem to know why. We don't know why because the media is not allowed to give us the full story. We don't know that our military is globally dispersed training other countries to fight Al Queda and other determined enemies. That there no coverage of atrocities allowed to be committed in Africa because it (those people) were deemed unimportant. Not politically useful to the United States at this moment. Hotel Rwanda...
Research what is happening right now in the Sudan.

But I must give credit, in the case of the Sudan, where credit is due. The United States, to date, is the only power on record, admitting that the 75, 000 people slaughtered to date does in fact speak to the possibility of genocide. That gives me hope. No...We are not doing anything about it yet. But we have acknowledged the existence of human tragedy occurring yet again on the "dark continent". My democratic leanings are being challenged with this second term President. A man who caused me much anger and distress in his first term is now leading a charge to wage war. Not the one against Iran... the war he says he will wage against AIDS in Africa. What? Yes...Mr. Bush. He has become the diversity president of the century. He has appointed and supported more people of color in his cabinet than any other of President to date. Huh? Yes it is confusing for me too.

So I watch and hope for the best. I get involved and do what I can from where I live.
What about you?

Breakfast at Tiffany's

This year has, as young as it is, has already given me much to celebrate and much to mourn.
But each day is a reason to keep hope alive...right?
For me it has been almost like the Alanis Morrisette song "Ironic"...You finally decide to take that trip around the world despite your fear of flying and your plane crashes... For me, I finally relinquished to the love in my life and it crashes, bursts into flames and still smolders. Crushing my hopeless romanticism into dust. But like roaches, those romatic pinings always seem to return. Maybe, at my age, that is a good thing to re-evaluate reality. Maybe it is time to give up on the fairytale..they really don't come true. As hard as I try to be amenable...to make it easy... it does not work. What have learned with this failed attempt? I am not sure. Let it go, move on, who knows what is around the corner? Maybe, that love for me in this lifetime is not going to be a reality. At least in that Hollywood sense that I seem so attached to. And that is so sad because I love the idea of sharing my life and my love. I think that there really could be nothing better. (Oops. There I go again....Ms. Holly GoLightly) Hmmmm maybe I need a Cat.

This broken heart crap is really starting to wear on my nerves and my emotional stability. For the past week, I have been in such a funk that I am getting on my own nerves. Eating...sleeping..crying. It is all so cliche and boring. Beating myself up so much that I need to call the police on my own damn self (Patti LaBelle) I need to new ways to deal with heartache. I need to develop a system of self-care that is more exciting and unconventional when it comes to grieving a relationship. I know! I will work on some ideas and create a "business plan"...on how to pull yourself up and out of tragic heartbreak. Now this could be interesting....

Mon Amie

I find inspiration in my family & friends.
This is one of them....
Enjoy

http://plecrivaine.blogspot.com/

Crisp Winter Days

On days like today, I think I must have the best journey to work around.
I get up in the morning at 4:30, ridiculously early, but it works for me somehow. As I made my usual drive into the office around 6:15am, I was taken by my surroundings. Still a bit dark outside, the sun was just rising. you could still see the stars reflecting on that crisp clear dark blue sky. In the distance there were a few clouds hanging out doing their thing...they had a bit of a purple cast and were lit from behind by the sun giving that purple an outline of pink. It made me wish I was a painter, because if I was, this would have been one of those moments that you scramble for your paints, paper and brushes and literally run outside as fast as you can to find a good spot to try to recreate nature and not miss the moment.

When I get to work, I park on the street and walk in. On these days, more than others, it turns into a walking meditation truly appreciating what strikes me as breathtaking. As I begin my walk, the ocean is sparkling an azure blue against the sky and the air is crisp... when I turn the corner leaving the ocean at my back, the groves of Eucalyptus trees filter the sun rising.... Everything is encompassed with this beautiful golden halo. These are the times I really "hear" the birds singing because it is so quiet.

What a lovely thing to be able to do on any morning. Sure, the end of journey puts me in an office in front of computer. Not much of a view. But I know at the end of the day, I have to walk back to my car...just in time to see the sun begin to set into the ocean. There is no better beginning or end to a workday that I can think of.... Yet.

A League of my own

In my effort to get back to enjoying life, and not focus so much on the sadness of the past few weeks, what do I do? Join a bowling league! Mind you, I am not a very good bowler. I have not invested in the equipment, but I sure do love throwing a ball with all my might to knock down those pins. In my head, those pins have little faces on them, and knocking them down makes me happy. (Could that speak to a little psychosis? Violent tendencies even?) Nah.

It is interesting what one (me) will do for a little plastic trophy. It must cost all of $4 on the open market, but I want to add it to my shelf of one other. She stands 5 inches tall, all shiny and gold, with her little skirt in motion and in stellar bowling form. Frozen in time. Perfect. My name in black letters below her golden figure. Who wouldn't get excited about that? Okay...most people probably wouldn't. Particularly when your league plays from 9pm to midnight on Tuesdays and you have to get up for work the next morning. What can I say, I need something constructive to keep my boredom at bay.

Last night's game was not a good one. I could not find a good bowling ball and had to suffer (my team-mates along with me) with two hardly adequate pieces of equipment. But I was inspired because upon my arrival at the bowling alley, I was informed that the previous week, I was the #2 female bowler that night. (I can see that new trophy on my shelf right now)...

Despite my effort and inspiration, the gutter seemed intent on taking my bowling balls. When the gutter could not get to it, those pins were obviously conspiring against me. They literally were jumping out of the way of my bowling ball. It was a sight to see. After two and half hours of this taunting, it was all over. Amazingly, I did not do as poorly as I thought when compared with everyone else. So, for now, I can still dream of my new addition to my trophy shelf.

Maybe this time she will be bigger...

I wonder if I will have room for all of the others that will soon keep her company...

I wonder......

Life Goes On

It is amazing to me how that happens.
Shouldn't everything stop, for at least one moment, to recognize the passing of a life? It stops for some, but for everyone else, they are still figuring out what to have for dinner, getting the kids to dance class and piano lessons, and heading to the gym before it is too late.

And that really is how it should be. It just does not seem right.
This year is proving to me that life, is indeed, not fair. Hundreds of thousands of people are wiped out from ocean waves, and yesterday a little boy and heartbroken husband, lost their mother and wife to cancer. 35 years old. Never smoked a day in her life. Diagnosed with cancer after being blessed with a baby. One year later, January 18th 2005...she died. I cannot imagine the emotional and physical pain this family is experiencing.
It leaves one helpless..but frantic to offer any help that they can. But what can you do?
Pray...be grateful...love those close to you.

So here is to my family...my friends... I love you!

One foot in front of the other

Twelve days into the new year, and it seems every corner of the globe has been touched by some natural or man-made disaster of some sort. Tidal waves, mudslides, earthquakes... Mother nature is pissed, and we better take notice. Or simply realize that this is the nature of the planet we inhabit, and we we are still learning how to co-exist in this relationship.

All relationships are bit like that anyway, wouldn't you say? You have days and weeks of bliss and happiness, with maybe a little tiff here and there of no real consequence. Then suddenly, seemingly out of the blue, Bam! Big fight over who-knows-what. Words are spoken that you cannot retrieve, dishes and hearts are broken and you are left to figure out what the hell just happened and why? Can we fix it? Do we want to? Yes. To both. Most certainly.

Today at work I face a meeting that I would rather avoid.
Last year, around holiday time a member of our office was hit with traumatic news. Cancer. His wife. Who just had a little healthy baby. What? Of course, there was an outpouring of sympathy from those who have experienced such tragedy in their own lives and survived. and empathy from those who have been lucky enough to date to have not been touched by this particular disease. She is young, strong, healthy otherwise. she will be fine. One year later...she is not fine. Far from it...and the rollercoaster of emotions that co-workers have gone through make me wonder, how does a person handle a situation like this when it is happening to you? So today we get an update on her condition. And each day I pray for a miracle for them. And for everyone who faces a situation like this. For my girlfriend whose husband was diagnosed last year and I just found out. For my favorite Aunt who has suffered a series of strokes that have left her confined to her bed. For the cashier I met in the drugstore who is recovering from breast cancer..still wearing her draining tubes while she works because she needs the money and distraction. For.......

So I guess you deal with these things like everything else. Keep going..keep doing what you can do. Keep putting one foot in front of the other.

It makes me grateful. Very grateful to have my health. I hope you are grateful too...for something today. Even if it is just for the sunshine that we will enjoy for a few days before the rains begin again. Gratitide does not need to be grand... I think it just needs to be present.

Out with the old, In with the New

With the start of a new year, having this past year end with such devastation must make one feel truly blessed to be alive and able to change, correct or redirect one's life ..focus..priorities. At the very least that is true for me. All of us tend to want to begin the new year with grand resolutions. When maybe what we really should be thinking about is how to better connect ourselves with those around us. To be globally informed, and commit to a resolution to create some positive change on the planet.

Pie-in-the-sky ideas, I know. But I have to start somewhere. And as the pre-pedophile Michael Jackson sang, "I'm starting with the wo/man in the mirror".

Last night as I trekked all over town running errands...the grocery store, Costco then the pharmacy.. I noticed every establishment had a donation site for the victims of the latest natural disaster, the Asian Tsunami. At the grocery store there were buckets at every register. I passed by the one at the register line I was in. But I thought to myself, "what a nice gesture", although I did not see any money inside. At the exit in Costco, there was a huge square glass structure to collect funds for tsunami victims. Everything at Costco is huge. I passed that one by too...I just could not get back into my wallet, push my cart through and show my receipt at the same time. Inconvenient. But I did see dollars, 5's and 10's resting at the bottom of the case. Heartwarming. My final stop at the SaVon pharmacy placed me in front of an empty can on the register asking for donations for the tsunami. Well, they could not find my prescription, had to dig around the files to get the information to fill it...and I had to wait for about 15 minutes. I did not put anything in the can. I just did not think about it. But when they called my name and said my prescription was ready, I pulled out my wallet and paid for my much needed drugs.

As I was putting my wallet back in my purse and wrapping things up.... a fleeting but vivd vision came to me. It was the video we all saw of that wave crashing into town carrying people, cars, buildings along with it. I thought of what it might have been like to caught in that madness. To be stranded, have nothing, to have lost your family, your children, your parents, your love. The very clothes off your back. All of this ran through my mind in a matter of seconds. I dropped my donation in the empty bucket.

In the time it took for me to move to the side, get my things together and head for the door.. I looked back and noticed that the people behind me placed their donations in the can.

Empty when I arrived, filling as I left...I felt I made a postive change in that little donation can. And maybe those dollars will actually be able to do some good somehow.