Archive for 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

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.