My Writings. My Thoughts.
Low To The Ground
// April 17th, 2010 // 2 Comments » // Thoughts
I accept that life wants to live in truth; The messiness of life shouldn’t be made to look pretty, forced into a mold or be lifted up, tucked in or frozen by needles for fear that we’ll be “seen”. One can have reasonable success doing these things to a body, but to employ this strategy as a means of making life be the way we want it be, is engaging in a game of “tug of war” with God.
Life (to me) is about what happens to the inside of somebody on a soul level under a given set of circumstances. The circumstances of homelessness engenders an authenticity that is inescapably truthful, beautiful, ugly, dark and honest; sometimes all at once.
Many things have become more evident to me with each passing interaction within the world of homeless; one of which is they are just the same as you and me. Homelessness isn’t necessarily just a condition or location, it’s also a state being. If I may, I’d like to draw special attention to the absence of persona and pretense that is common amongst many of the people whom I’ve come in contact.
I have been asked on occasion if being around homeless people is depressing? The answer is “no” (Homeless children are another issue. There are deep developmental/psychological ramifications with children who are homeless and this is difficult to witness) I’m keeping this focused on the homeless adults that I’ve met, photographed and befriended over the past couple of years.
There isn’t anything more honest than sitting on a street corner, under a bridge or a shelter. I don’t often hear homeless folks making up elaborate stories or justifying their situation beyond a job loss, death of a loved one, accident, or hitting an unexpected rough patch. I’ve neither seen nor heard anyone trying to verbally create any illusions or alternate realities in regards to their current life while physically sitting in a picture that begs to differ.
You might say well why should they bother pretending when the facts are telling the story for them. But, this could be applied everywhere, right? No one has any secrets even if we think we do, because those secrets show up as our life. It’s all right there for everyone to see even when we do our best to make it look otherwise.
The connection that I love with the people on the streets is the reconciliation within themselves to know they have hit a bottom, it’s accepted and no bother is put towards making an appearance to the contrary.
Humble, Humbling, Humbled; depending on which dictionary you use, the definition will range from low in rank, importance, status, quality, not proud or arrogant, with my favorite being low to the ground. It’s where I want to be and where life feels natural. Somewhere along the line I unwittingly allowed that chord to be severed and it resulted in losing my way.
I have so enjoyed traveling to different cities and meeting different people and hearing their personal stories and the details of their lives. I love being able to talk openly about the places I’ve lived, how I grew up and not feeling judged or measured. Connecting person to person, one heart to another is a touch of bliss to me, it’s an embrace to the deepest part of my soul; it’s spiritual hydration.
We all need it, homeless or not. There is a piece of our soul, our essence that needs to be witnessed for what it is; no mask, no excuses, no pretense. It’s a difficult thing to honor in our daily lives. Where does one take off the mask? Work? School? Home?
In some cases we elect to take the step ourselves as in my mother’s case. She is 68 years old and has decided to write a book chronicling having survived her early childhood in an orphanage home where she was regularly beaten, locked in closets for long periods of time and held under water by one of the orphanage care givers to the point that she crossed over and met one of her angels before coming back . At 68 years old she just decided to open up about some things she’s kept to herself. Our family can see and feel the healing and paradigm shift taking place within her; it’s remarkable!
An example of being dropped in at cruising altitude tells a story of the hero at the top of my list of heroes; my sister Anna who gave birth to a baby that was injured during the delivery and has lived his seven years as an incomplete quadripalegic. My sister died, to who she was, after giving birth to Raymond—and has emerged as one of the most amazing people I know; with presence of mind and complete equanimity she carries life and death in the same hand daily. My moniker for Anna is “my sister the sage”!
Another story of being thrust into a journey from cruising altitude, through breast cancer tells the story of my friend Tina, who stands as a shining example of showing up whether feeling good, bad, bald, sick, pissed, grateful or radiant. Whatever is going on with her on any given day her Truth stands as a beacon of light that I am graced by when in her presence. The cosmetics of ones truth may be unsightly at times; but, by virtue of being the truth, it’s inherently clean and trustworthy!
As far as my truth goes I consider myself a hybrid. I can only say I’m sure there is more to come that I will be dropped into from 41,000 feet, more to learn and more that I will elect to reveal. If you can imagine at one time all I wanted and worked for was to get my life and the life of my loved ones to a “good” “safe” place and then keep it there; unchanging and perfect.
The opening created in me through the death of my father in law, felt like a direct hit by a wrecking ball; an opening indeed! Things that were dead and buried deep within were unearthed and freed from their hiding places. Loss; blows taken as a child, life ,death, the picture that I had for my life as a wife, mother and step-mother. Somethings were to be, somethings were not to be , and none of it is the way I imagined. Somebody once told me, “If you want to make God laugh tell him your plans”
I’ve come full circle and ironically I’ve been delivered back to the streets I was born to and clearly meant to work on; this is a better plan than I could have come up with for myself. I’m at peace, happy and where I belong. Deeply rooted in myself as an individual, a wife and a mother and doing work that I never thought I would be doing. This new world I inhabit is within and without, it’s the place I will be found on my last day. May I forever stay close to the ground!
What do you think…
// March 26th, 2010 // 2 Comments » // Thoughts
I’d like to preface this particular blog post with an answer to the question that I think you will be thinking half way through if I don’t answer it now. The answer is “no, I haven’t lost my marbles!”
I set out with my pen and paper with something in particular that I wanted to convey (it wasn’t this) but my pen took a turn down a road I didn’t expect. And just like real life I ended up some where I hadn’t planned on….
This is very Seuss-y as in Dr…..one of my literary favorites! enjoy : )
I sit and think, walk and think, sleep and think and think and think and think and think……
Why?! Why must all this thinking be going on? Think what? Think why? How is it that I can think at all? Well, I’m thinking there must be some kind of reason, but I haven’t thunk enough to figure it out or ask myself; if herein lies a call?
I think that I think the same thoughts as you, and I think you think the same thoughts as me, and I think we both think the same thoughts as the homeless woman on the corner, chances are her thoughts are an echo of yours, mines, the Queen’s, and Young Jeezy’s.
If we all stopped to think and all thunk at once, what could this thinking thing do? I’m thinkin’ we could all take a pretty thoughtabulous ride…..
A silent ride to more thinking, pondering or wondering…what ever your personal, particular mental process may be. Thinking about life, love, hope, faith, and the courage to live authentically.
Perhaps your desire is about thinking critically, creatively, linearly, politically, or perhaps extraterrestrialy. In a few outside cases we might discover with shock and dismay; thoughts thinking US….out of the clear blue yonder absolutely, undeniably, unequivocally…ZZzzzzzz!
A voyage into thinking glorious, pioneering thoughts, from the convenience of a couch. The kind of thinking that spawns roads that will transport you beyond, inside around and about. Thoughts of what may be “out there” while scratching your head begging the Eternal question “Uhhh….what’s in here??”
Be forewarned when your thinking turns to stinking, as it sometimes do. Remember it’s only stinking thinking, quick be RUBBER not glue.
Don’t think about the stock market, don’t think about nasty taxes, or the monitor “They” want to tape to your stomach for fear that we’ll all become fatty asses.
Don’t think about job losses or foreclosures or salt, don’t think about exercising, picking up the dry cleaning or having anything be your fault. Just sit and pause and relax and say AHHHHH!
Think about the good stuff. What IS there to think about after all?
Think about Bach, Beethoven, The Beetles, Renoir and Monet…think about all the good fortune that is ours right here, right now, on this very day.
Don’t think old crusty worn out thoughts of what has been, DO accept what is, and trust with your whole heart in the goodness of what will Be. Please keep your thinking thoughts HIGH for they are the architects and brick layers of your inconceivably, stupendous, unimaginably, incredible, extraordinarily dynamic, evolving, super special, unfolding D-e-S-S-t-i-n-Y-y-y-y
American Heroes
// March 22nd, 2010 // 2 Comments » // Uncategorized
I was at LAX boarding a flight back to Houston over the weekend. As I was checking in I heard an announcement being made notifying military personnel of a USO room available for their convenience and enjoyment. The pre-board announcement for Continental flights also invites uniformed military the courtesy of boarding first. I’ve noticed both announcements at a couple of different airports in the recent past and believe them to be relatively new.
Additionally, I’ve had the pleasure of sharing a few flights recently with enlisted Navy and Army service men. I feel an automatic comfort knowing a soldier is on board my same flight. It’s comforting knowing there is someone on board that is trained and willing to sacrifice himself to keep everyone else safe. With the crazy things that have come to pass this is not “a long shot” concern. For many it may forever be a fleeting thought, whilst watching a trusty flight attendant shut and lock the airplane door.
It’s the same comfort that our nation is blessed with every minute of each day whether we think about it or not. These good Americans keep us safe.
Any man or woman who serves or has ever served our country has my immediate respect and gratitude. How can one not respect a person who puts their own well being and life aside for the sake of many?
I come into regular contact with men who were formerly soldiers since having been back on the streets over the past couple of years. Men who patriotically lent their bodies for a tour of duty or two and in some cases unwittingly made a permanent donation of their sanity.
Next to women and children, Veterans make-up a large portion of our American Homeless.
Some are in wheel chairs, some are alcoholics, some suffer from mental illness and some are unable to forgive themselves for the lives they took even though it was a fight for their country. Subsequently, they suffer daily with haunting memories.
Is living a life of homelessness the future of some of the young soldiers actively serving now? Are our young men and woman to return home and live out their lives as forgotten heroes on the streets? Forgotten and hero should never be seen in the same sentence.
I don’t have a “political ax” to grind, this isn’t about politics, it’s about people. It’s about our American people and as far as this particular entry is concerned, it’s about a select group of human beings who already courageously gave of themselves, upfront!
I Am Waters’ mission is to deliver water with words of inspiration and to raise the American homeless up. Too many of our homeless are Veterans.
IAW is dedicated to being a part of delivering something good and beautiful into the hands of the same people who at one time gave of their body, heart and soul to this great country. It is not only an honor, but dare I say, our duty, to do what is right on behalf of these good people.
I’m sure I don’t know what hard work, grief, pain and physical discomfort is like; or having to watch a buddy die. Nor do I know what it is to be separated from ones country and loved ones, not knowing if I would ever see them or be seen again.
I can’t know, I can only listen to the stories and imagine. I can only see and hear shadows of events, I don’t think anyone can understand unless one has lived through it.
What I do know, is that I am fortunate to have been born an American. It is the greatest country in the world, it’s my country and I love and treasure it! And I love and treasure the brave hearts that helped to make our country safe and free.
My hope is that our young service men and woman don’t have the same fate in store as our older Veterans. My hope for them is to be moved to the “front of the line” for the rest of their days. They deserve nothing less.
In closing I would like to give my heart felt thanks to every man and woman who has ever risked their life to serve our great nation. Homeless and not homeless.
And to Corporal Ronald Royce Ryan (my uncle) and the 48 young men who were shot down and died behind enemy lines over Kason, Vietnam while trying to rejoin their units. You are all American heroes!
Peace and Blessings!
A Hero’s Journey
// March 5th, 2010 // 2 Comments » // Inspiring
One of the people that I’ve had the privilege of meeting over the past year is native Texan, Joseph “Cowboy” Benson.
I met Joseph, now the head of food services at SEARCH, a charity advocate for homeless in Houston, while photographing for I Am Waters. Formerly a successful restaurateur in Los Angeles he returned to Houston and, through the same talent, skill and hard work built a life that encompassed everything that a person could want; a home, wife, kids, cars and a thriving catering business. Joseph shared the details of his life before his accident and what his life is like now, relating the shift that emerged from his descent into internal darkness, living life without a home and how his experience changed who he is as a person.
We sat in his office at SEARCH and spoke. Joseph shared with me how the course of events in his life unfolded, events that many people, had they physically survived, simply wouldn’t have survived emotionally or mentally. His calm, centered demeanor became a silent distraction for me. He started at his beginning…
Joseph grew up in a family that was financially secure and loving. He always had clothes, toys and the best food. His mother was also a gifted cook. He was loved and cared for.
Joseph shared his experience of living life in LA for approx 5 years and owning a very successful restaurant on Pico and La Cienega named the “Gumbo Pit”. He then returned to Texas to start a catering company and a family.
It was on his way home from catering an event at his mother’s church one night that Joseph was in a terrible wreck with a large truck that claimed both his legs and 2 ½ years of his life. That’s how long Joseph was in the hospital, 2½ years. The medical bills piled up and slowly he started liquidating his assets to pay his expenses.
He spent through his kid’s college funds, sold his home and cars and sunk deeper and deeper into debt, despair and an addiction to pain medication. His final resting place was the Pierce elevated bridge.
Through the most peaceful brown eyes Joseph said “I knew if I could survive, as bad as it was, things would change. I stayed under that bridge, but I never lost Hope”. He shared with me how important it is to stay connected. “If you become completely disconnected from the norms of society and become a part of a sub-culture of homelessness, it’s hard, if not impossible to come back. Not even doctors understand the phases of homelessness”. As Joseph explained it to me from his experience, “People become homeless mentally first, and then the physical inevitably follows”.
“Once homeless you immediately fall into a cycle where meeting your most basic needs dictate your day”.
Two of the ways in which Joseph survived being homeless, he proudly shared, the first of which he had learned as a child in the Boy Scouts and the second of which is his skill of being a great cook.
He got 3 empty coffee cans, punched holes in one of them to hold fire, wheeled himself in his wheel chair with the second can to a body shop on Webster and asked a mechanic there to cut the can open and flatten it into a square so he could fit it over the top of the first can, as a makeshift burner.
With the 3rd can he had the body shop cut it down 3 inches and put a hole in the back of it. He then inserted a stick making a pot out of it to cook ramen noodles in.
Slowly, more and more homeless people were drawn to Joseph and started hanging around him. As they did, he would cook for them. His friends would show up daily with found or foraged food and give it to Joseph with the request that he cook it to be a shared meal for the growing circle of friends. His ability to cook made it possible for Joseph to survive on the street. His friends from the street did the work that Joseph couldn’t do from a wheel chair.
In addition he had the blessing of “Food Not Bombs” a group of kids 13-21 that are referred to as dumpster divers. They retrieve discarded food from restaurants and grocery stores and deliver it to the homeless.
The kids made fast friends with Joseph. One of the oldest kids who was from a nice family in the Heights said to Joseph,”If you ever get cold or wet you can come sleep on my porch”. The boy gave Joseph a sleeping bag that was used to sleep on the boys porch with, in addition to being invited by the family to take regular showers.
As Joseph spoke it became increasingly clear to me that he had been on what Joseph Campbell describes as the “Hero’s Journey” and I so respected him for having made it back to society, back from the underworld both from within and without to deliver the “ultimate boon.”
He delivers through traveling around the country being a guest speaker, sharing his story and serving as a board member of SEARCH. He returns regularly in SEARCH outreach vans to the same spot under the Pierce elevated bridge and the very streets he once called home, guiding other homeless back to a better life.
There is an unmistakable radiance that comes from someone who has traveled down, down to the to the darkest depths within themselves and made the return. It’s not a radiance that one can see with physical eyes, although the by-product of it reads as peace and certainty. It’s a feeling of betterment from having been in that person’s presence.
After an hour and a half with Joseph, I only had one question left….”If you could change anything about your life so far, what would it be?” Through soft quiet eyes, hands folded in his lap he smiled at me and thoughtfully replied “Nothing, I wouldn’t change a thing”.
The Journey Home
// February 20th, 2010 // 1 Comment » // Thoughts
I thought about Bernie Madoff as I read the paper this morning. I wonder what he thinks about in his available time, how he occupies the hours while he lives out his life in prison. If he feels any remorse or if he is empty, hollow and disconnected. And what of the other characters of his type that I read about in the paper far too often. People with impressive educations that destroy the hopes, lives, dreams, retirements, and nest eggs of innocent people. I ask myself how people with such high level educations and knowledge make decisions that are so devastating and why by now all these very smart people don’t take a note from the last guy and stop.
This type of behavior isn’t exclusive to the educated elite. Some of the people I knew growing up were uneducated and corrupt. The people that made up a majority of the citizens in many of the places my siblings and I lived were the kind of people you wouldn’t want to pass if you were walking on the street at night alone.
From those same streets there were good people too. There have been people that I consider angels I know from some of the finer places that I have lived as an adult. It’s not that you find good and bad everywhere; people are just people. Most people are in pain and the way that pain manifests can take many different forms.
As a young girl I was convinced there was a place outside of the world that I lived in; where people were good, that did the right thing, had integrity, honesty and a clean heart. I was convinced these types of people existed for the simple reason that I saw them on T.V. i.e.”Courtship Of Eddie’s Father”, “Brady Bunch”, “Family Affair” and “Little House on The Prairie”
The people I knew weren’t like the shows I watched. I thought it was because they were poor. I thought if they only had money they would have integrity and be kind hearted. Naturally, from all their money, they would love themselves and all those around them. But that was from the mind of a child. Although at 43 years old, at times I still engage in thoughts along those lines.
I have lived in two distinct worlds: the world of welfare, food stamps and shopping for clothes at The Salvation Army as a child. To the world of wealth and privilege as an adult. I’ve dined with Presidents, a King and a Queen, superstars, famous artists and athletes. As a matter of fact I was introduced to my husband at a dinner that was given to welcome The Duchess of York to Los Angeles on one of her trips to the city.
From the time I was very young until now, I have been exposed to people from ALL walks of life. I spend a lot of time thinking about people—people I’m going to meet, people I have met, people I know in homeless shelters or the people I know in beautiful houses. People—smart ones, and not so smart ones, nice ones and not so nice ones, and what it is that makes people do the things they do. Well Carl Jung I’m not, so I’ll go no further. I can only attest to what I know from my own experience.
What I believe about people is, that it doesn’t matter how educated or wealthy someone is. What appears to be an attribute or advantage does not lend itself to making better choices. Nor does it matter how poor or uneducated someone is, because what appears to be a deficit does not lend itself to better choices. Circumstances do not and should not influence character
I have received love, guidance and protection from some of the poorest, simplest, most humble people growing up. People who were born into nothing, became nothing and died with nothing. Conversely I have been crushed to the point of feeling decimated by some of the best and brightest. In both cases, just people.
In the vast experience life has gifted me, I see in everyone (latent in some, full bloom in others) a Divine Intelligence. An Intelligence that all people come in with; rich and beautiful, poor and simple.
God (Source or Unified Field, if you prefer) didn’t overlook making this deposit in anyone. It is the tie that connects us to God and each other while here on earth. What is Devine Intelligence? It is sometimes called your “still small voice” or your “higher self”. It’s the non-thinking part of you, The Knower–the Observer.
It is impervious to education and status. It is not bestowed on the lucky and kept from the forsaken. It is the intuitive eye for which to see with and the inner ear to hear beyond words. It is the vision and hearing we all have all of the time and if given the opportunity will make much better decisions for us than we can make from our human agendas. In some, it might be more buried than with others. Buried under what you may ask? Buried under the scraps of our unfinished business, the undealt with aspects of ourselves the parts of ourselves that we have disowned or keep secret (sometimes the secret is so buried not even the carrier remembers).
An education doesn’t stop someone from making the wrong choices and the absence of one shouldn’t preclude someone from making the right ones.
Turning in and facing the parts of ourselves we are most frightened of or perhaps in some cases terrified by…is the direction we want to head. It is necessary to go into the dark in order to retrieve the most important part of who we are (the only part that we take with us when our life here has come to pass) the part that is Eternal; Joseph Campbell calls this The Heroes Journey—the journey is available to everyone and all that is required is a little courage and a little faith
Whether you live in a palace or under a bridge—whether you are a mental giant or average by nature—whether you’ve committed the most regrettable acts imaginable or you’ve lived the life of a saint—whether you are a Rhodes Scholar or an eighth grade drop-out.
The journey home is for everyone. My wish is for everyone to take it.
A Dose Of My Own Medicine…
// February 17th, 2010 // 1 Comment » // Restore
The last couple of weeks have been interesting, to say the least! I’ve built I Am Waters Foundation; discreetly over the past year with the help of a wonderful board, without whom, there would be no foundation. Except for those few, I hadn’t shared it with anyone except my sister, two close girlfriends and my husband. It was a well-kept secret up until February 1st.
Additionally, I had never Facebooked, Tweeted, Vimeod, Youtubed, or stepped foot into the viral world. Although, I had heard plenty about how great it was through my computer savvy friends, this was uncharted territory for me.
Over the past two or so weeks, I’ve gone from being a somewhat spiritual; take life on life’s terms and use it as guidance for what’s trying to emerge through me, kinda gal. Coupled with a core philosophy that life has a life of it’s own and needs us to live it and the things that go “wrong” in life are really to get us on the path for which we were meant. At this age and at this point in my life, I apply this without much thought. Well, that was up until 17 days ago!
Today I’m glued to a computer, haranguing people to vote and incessantly checking where on the Pepsi Refresh Everything roster I’ve risen to (or not). Quite honestly, at this point, I’m wondering how a little ol’ submission to a seemingly simple contest has thrust me into a massive marketing and viral campaign since 12:01 AM Feb 1st; whilst getting the snot beat out of me by the Girl Scouts.
I’ve been indoctrinated into the world of VIRAL over the past 17 days to the extent that I have stretch marks on my cheeks from the G-force. That’s right. I’m just now getting “IT”. I see that while I was home over the past 15 years cutting the edges off of my kids sandwiches, a whole world has emerged inside the box that sits atop my desk; which I’m currently in a deep existential conflict with.
I find myself wandering from person to person (as though I forgot where I last parked my car) Asking, “Do you do viral stuff?” “Do you know how to make this set of words and pictures head out into thin air and bring back the desired results?”
My praying and meditating have been replaced with endless rumination on numbers, stats, Google Analytics and sending friendly reminders to the wonderful people that vote for I Am Waters to continue to do so; although I must admit, I feel like a stalker, albeit, a friendly one.
Today was the day that I had to say to myself STOP!! Just stop! Don’t move, don’t think, just stop! How are you going to get back on the path of calm and peace that you live on most of the time? After posing the question to myself a couple of times (while simultaneously fighting the urge to check Facebook or what number we held in the contest) the thought that came was “you could vote for the Girl Scouts and do more consistently for others what you would like done for you. VOTE! The other charities in the contest are important and wonderful!
The second part of the answer was to start putting into action in my own life, the words on the bottles of water. Yeah, remember the words, Elena…you know the ones; LOVE, HOPE, FAITH, and PEACE. I know these are to inspire the homeless, to restore a sense of belonging to oneself, God and a sense of community and internal Peace and Calm.
But they are words that will guide us all back to our center point, and words (the right ones) will always make everyone feel better, no matter what we look like, where we are, who we are, how we feel about ourselves and each other. Simple words that have a big impact on how I see and feel about things, right now in this very moment. So, I’m off to my computer, but with a shift in perspective. Whom may I vote for? Who’s cause can I help further? This I know will deliver me back to my peace path!
