Cycles....

"How far you go in life depends on your being tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving, and tolerant of the weak and strong. Because someday in your life you will have been all of these."
George Washington Carver

The day after I last posted here, my housemate had a catastrophic health event. She was taken to the emergency room, was diagnosed with pulmonary embolism, pneumonia and sepsis. She was critically ill and was admitted to the ICU.

Since that time, my life has been a whirlwind of taking care of and helping her family, making sure her needs are met as best I can. She is currently in a skilled nursing facility where she is getting physical therapy and breathing treatments, other things that will hopefully restore her to some independence and quality of life. This event has pushed her into some serious cognitive issues. She has likely had Alzheimers for some time and this made it worse. As it is right now, her grown kids are having to make her decisions. The reality is that she probably won't be coming home.

During the worst of it, January 8, while she lay on a bed in the emergency room on a respirator, the doctor approached me and told me he was prepared to put her on life support. She wasn't expected to live. A few minutes before that, she'd given me her advance directive in front of the hospital personnel. It was a huge responsibility to choose between her wishes as I understand them (no heroics) and my knowledge that her family needed time to gather from around the state, get time off work and all the little things that must be attended to before they were able to come to her bedside. I didn't want to make a decision that would deny them the ability to say goodbye.

My answer was "yes". Put her on life support if necessary.

In my lifetime, I've always been protected from these things. I have very little experience with the cycles of life. My mother, thankfully, still has full cognition. My father passed a few years ago. My brother is fine. He has a typical collection of health issues, just as I do. It's normal for people our age.

When I was growing up, we lived thousands of miles from extended family so most deaths, illnesses and so on were little more than informative phone calls. We were not actively involved. Consequently, it had a distant feeling to it. A detachment.

This has been entirely different. I'm at the nursing home daily. I'm actively involved with her kids, all of whom work and have to maintain their lives. I'm making decisions and being proactive in her daily health care at the facility. I'm on the HIPPA list. The staff talks to me just as though I am blood family. (That is with her family's consent and legal permission.) I am paid to do this work. (That's another issue for another blog. Why am I paid? Should I be paid? Etc. My decision was to be paid.)

The one thing I'm very aware of is that there are a lot of dynamics in her family. Old wounds. Broken relationships. Each person wanting to establish his or her place on the hierarchy of decision-making. It's an interesting and sensitive road to navigate.

If there's anything I've learned from this so far is that it's so important to let go of all those old grievances. (Mine, too.. not just her kids. I'm taking my inventory. Not theirs.) We all tend to judge the giving of other people by our own standards when in reality, we need to be looking at the individual capacity of others. I have had my issues with D. in the past, as everyone who reads here already knows. In looking at it from this perspective, she was giving the best she had to give. It wasn't always up to my standard. There were times I felt exploited and used. The reality is that she did give me what she had to give - within her capabilities.

That is why I haven't walked away which is what I would have done in the past. Little did I ever imagine I would be in the position I'm in now, making choices and decisions about her life - and finding that I want them to be the kindest, most compassionate decisions I can possibly make to keep her happy. Her life is probably short at this point. I want to see her go peacefully, feeling loved and pampered. That's the best I can give.



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A Cottage Designed by Monet.....

This year has started out with the proverbial "bang".

Within the first few days of January, I picked up another wretched cold. I get a lot of those lately. For the past week, I've been sneezing, coughing and blowing my nose until I think a replacement model might be in order.

It's getting better now but this is an extraordinarily long-lasting cold. A few people have mentioned that it's a peculiar one going around and everyone takes a few weeks to get over it.

The cold has given me a lot of time to consider my future residence. I've thought about what I want and where I'd like it to be. Many years ago, when I visited the UK, one of the places we went was Stratford-on-Avon. There were some of the most beautiful cottages there. Cobblestone streets and huge gardens. It wasn't the cottage itself that drew me as much as the gardens that typically surrounded it. Since the place I choose will be my home for a number of years, until I either move to Thailand or die, it really needs to be the right place.

I want a cottage designed by Monet.

Given the unlikelihood of my being able to afford that, I'll settle for a cottage not designed by Monet - but I'd like it to be close. What I know for certain is that I don't want to share my space with another person. I don't want to live in someone else's house. It must be detached, must have a private entrance and must be isolated from the "main house". Living in someone's guest cottage is very appealing but the only time I want to see the owner is on Rent Day. At that, I'd prefer a maildrop. I've lived through this situation so long that I am reluctant to ever try it again.

My geographic range is anywhere between Garberville, California and Crescent City, California. All of those communities, small or large, are either coastal or near the coast. They all have more than 2 inches of rain a year which is about what we're getting in the Central Valley.

It seems important to give all of these things consideration. For so long, I've allowed things to "flow" which in itself isn't bad. It becomes bad though when it means not making choices and going only for speed and convenience. That is how I created the mess I am in now.

So.. if you can spare it, send a positive thought my way. At this point, I'm looking at a February 1st or March 1st launch day.



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Personal Intentions for 2010....

I don't go much for resolutions but I can certainly relate to creating some good new intentions. Since I joined Weight Watchers last summer, I have learned a bit about the value of setting concrete goals. Prior to that, I didn't buy in much - but I do now.

So these are my personal intentions for 2010!

1) Of course, as always, to stay clean and sober.

2) To get moved into a new apartment where I will spend the year decorating and creating my very own sacred space. It will be a space where I will feel safe from intrusion and imposition.

3) Letting go of the few remaining toxic people in my life. I will no longer allow people in my life who make me feel "less than" or demeaned. I will no longer allow people to blatantly use me or take advantage of me. I will do this without being defensive or angry. After all, it is up to me to fix me, not other people. It will just become a way of life.

4) I will begin respecting myself enough that those people will no longer find me interesting. I'll stop writing the permission slips.

5) Now that I have lost the weight, I want to put more energy into personal grooming. A good haircut. Nice clothes. This isn't about vanity but self-respect.

6) I will allow faith into my life in a bit more meaningful and less guarded way. Sometimes I get so caught up in trying to protect myself and others from scams and false promises that I forget to see the light. I will let some of my natural suspicion and cynicism recede into the background, making more room for the Good Stuff.

7) I will continue tracking transient criminals. I'm good at it and it is a community service I can do willingly and freely.

8) I will create more beauty and do less "getting by" or "making do". No more accepting second best and "less than". I'm worth the good stuff.

9) I will nurture and put more energy into sustaining the community I've only begun to build. I'll be less defeatest.

10) I will create surroundings, activities and a way of life that will no longer leave me feeling ashamed and embarrassed. I never want to apologize for my life again.

So... how about you?




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Good Riddance, 2009!

I am ready for 2009 to be over. Time to put it behind us and move on!

First though, we have to say 'good riddance' to certain things. Here's my partial list of what should be left behind when the calendar flips.

1) Anything with the name "Gosselin" on it,

2) Anything to do with Tiger Woods,

3) Anything to do with the long, rambling, inconclusive and vague discussion about health care reform,

4) Any more horror stories about the end of the world because there's a recession. There have been recessions for years and years. This one is no different. The economy is cyclical. Hello!

5) Snuggie commercials,

6) Any more recaps of the Casey Anthony story, all of which has been repeated endlessly,

That's just a few. How about you? What are you ready to leave behind?




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Does A Tiger Change Its Stripes? Um. Spots. Um.

I'm sick and tired of hearing about Tiger Woods! Now that we all know what he's been doing, where he's been dipping his wick and with whom, I have to weigh in on this.

Some of the gossip shows and Oprah wannabes are referring to his possible "sex addiction". I'm not buying it. He's been willing to sacrifice his family, his job, his endorsements and his integrity because....

.... he's a dawg!

And I can't say much for any woman who would have a relationship with a married man, either.

I've never bought into the idea of sex addiction. It's just another excuse for people to behave badly and pathologize it. It becomes an excuse. It's bad impulse control. The fact is that adults are expected to have control over their behavior and to make ethical, moral and sensible choices.

What do you think?



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Six Hours And Counting....

Yesterday, I spent six hours with a woman who has been targeted by transient criminals.

They found her on Craigslist and were quite charming when they came to find out about the granny unit she had for rent behind her house.

The man was well-dressed and his girlfriend was very poised with her Sarah Palin smile. "Georgia" let them move in without a background check or even a reference check.

Credit checks are meaningless, particularly in this economy. I'm not in favor of credit checks but a background check is very easy and tells all the story someone might need to know before opening their home to a stranger. I gave Georgia my private information so that she can do a background check on me, given that she is sharing a lot of private financial information. That's the only way I can do anything is to have that info.

Before two months had passed, they had stolen two of her credit cards, gained access to her debit card PIN by claiming only that they wanted to help her and run errands for her. Georgia, being disabled and not capable of driving or getting around easily, allowed them to do it. These criminals know how to target vulnerable people. Georgia is 66 years old, has had a stroke and is isolated and depressed. I spent six hours with her and she is a very caring, good-natured and kind person.

After it was all done, Georgia was several thousand dollars in debt. Sarah Palin Smile had gone to Macy's, Target, Costco and assorted big box stores. She maxed out Georgia's cards. Her bank account was drained. Her mortgage was behind since the tenants weren't paying their rent and she nearly lost her house. If her ex-husband hadn't come along to rescue her, she would have lost everything.

When I got home and began researching Well Dressed and Sarah Palin Smile, I found extensive criminal histories on both. Well Dressed had an assortment of evictions with judgments for the landlords, burglary charges, drug possession and check fraud. Sarah Palin Smile has a case pending for identity theft. She goes to court on 1/13/10 for sentencing.

All of this information was readily available before they targeted Georgia. I found all of this free of charge on the Internet. I searched court records and general Google searches that led me from one place to another. Begin here if you want to check someone out. If you feel particularly ambitious, you can look through this database from the Seminole County Sheriff's Office which is the most comprehensive. Just click on "Transient Offenders".

It's unlikely that Georgia will ever recover any of her money. Transient criminals have multiple identities, live off the grid and judgments can't be collected.

The good thing is that I will be able to contact local law enforcement, specifically the detectives who specialize in financial fraud and elder abuse. More charges will be brought against Well Dressed and Sarah Palin Smile. It's a small consolation to see them get a bit more jail time when Georgia's life was left in shambles.

But at least it's something.

On January 13, I will be at the courthouse and will snap a picture of Sarah Palin Smile. I will post it on Craigslist, including her aliases and current address. Hopefully it will protect some other unsuspecting elderly landlord.

Doing this work really gives my life a lot of meaning, too. If I can protect even one or two elderly, vulnerable people, I'll call it Good.



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Memory Is A Crazy Woman...

Memory is a crazy woman that hoards colored rags and throws away food. ~Austin O'Malley

Yesterday, I took my housemate to the Memory Clinic. She is being evaluated for Alzheimer's. Three different people with different skill sets gave her a lot of tests and interviewed me. There was a physician (a neurologist), a memory specialist and a social worker. The entire process took three hours. It was very thorough and I trust that she will get a solid diagnosis and a treatment plan. We won't know the outcome until next month.

This got me to thinking about memory and has resulted in several hours of Internet searches, reading everything from anecdotes to articles from neurology journals. Lots of it is over my head but still useful for a general understanding. Memory is a funny thing, something most of us lose at particular times and other events remain cemented in the forefront of our recollection, almost as though they are tattooed on our frontal lobes.

Personally, I've always had a sketchy and fluid short-term memory. It is a large dumping ground. Facts, figures, events and snippets of information, storylines of books that have impressed me, quotes, all sorts of things gather there and crop up when I want or need them. Sometimes they've gone into the ether where they can never be retrieved again. It's more like a subtle smell or a fragment of a song lyric that can't quite come to the surface.

Most of the time, I don't remember when I learned those things or how I gathered that information. It doesn't matter. Now that I'm retired, I often don't know the date or the day of the week. It simply doesn't matter.

At what point it becomes significant is what interests me. Many of the questions asked of us yesterday were obvious attempts to get a grasp on her orientation to time and place. They had her draw a few things and tested her verbal skills and understanding. She did her best and I could see her struggling.

But at what point is it pathological and when is it simply a function she doesn't need in her day-to-day life? Is it really that important that she know the day of the week or when something happened?

I came away from the experience yesterday knowing I want to protect my memory. I don't expect it to store everything for me like a super-computer. I don't expect to be able to call up every snippet of information I've ever learned without having to look it up again. (Calendars and books are good for that. They function as my memory and work perfectly well.)

As I age (and that's closer than further away), I want to make sure my mind and brain are active. It's important to not get caught up in pettiness and drama, to make sure that our capacity for memory is respected, protected and used well.

That means making a conscious effort to keep those neurons firing. I was discussing all of this with a friend last night and we both, of a similar age - my being a few years older - decided to learn Spanish. It is a good way to stimulate our brains and exercise our memories.

One of the people at the clinic yesterday, it might have been the social worker, said that people who stay active and involved in their environments, learn new things, stay socially active and interactive, are less likely to develop dementia in old age.

I'm in. This needs to be an effort that is just as conscious as eating well and exercising. Personally, I can't imagine anything worse than getting old and losing my cognitive ability. As has been said by many others thousands of times, when that happens, just shoot me.

Most of the people who read this are too young for this to be an issue - but still something worthy of keeping in mind. Remember. :)



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Sacred Life Sunday: Mindless Fun

Last weekend, I went to an estate sale in one of the more exclusive neighborhoods in Sacramento. (Yes, believe it or not, there are a few!) The sale is extending over two weekends. Last week, it was clothes. Today, it will be furniture and housewares. I'll be there when it opens.

The homeowner in this case is not dead. She is a doctor who was reassigned to Texas. Rather than pack up and move, she decided to sell everything. From the looks of things, she packed a suitcase and walked out the door. Someone bought her mustard yellow Mercedes and the clothes in the house could have easily filled a boutique. There were dozens of suede coats, designer dresses, pants, outfits, bathrobes. There were so many pairs of shoes that it was startling. I would guess at least 100.

On first glance, it would appear the woman has a serious shopping addiction. There were Maggie Sweet pants outfits that hadn't been removed from the cellophane packaging. Shoes that had never been worn. Designer outfits with the tags still hanging from the sleeves.

It must be nice to be able to walk away from an entire household and leave it all behind. I imagine her driving south on I-5 toward Los Angeles, I-10 toward Texas and the sense of freedom she must have been feeling.

Yard sales, estate sales and garage sales are all tremendous fun. It's a kick to go to the ATM, take out forty bucks and mindlessly shop. A little bit of this and a little bit of that. Pretty housewares that are often in brand new condition. I've furnished more than one home exclusively through estate sales. There are always very good deals to be found. If I wanted to get political, which I don't, it's an excellent way to recycle things. Nothing goes to waste.

One of my shameless weaknesses is designer clothing. I might be as poor as the proverbial church mouse but refuse to dress that way. Last weekend, I bought designer outfits for ten dollars apiece. (I have to lose a few more pounds to wear them.) Two pairs of shoes. I even bought a jacket. These are things she probably paid hundreds of dollars for. I spent $43.21 and walked out with a full bag.

Today I will be looking for some of the housewares and appliances that I'm lacking for my move. I need a blender, a new microwave, an electric frying pan and a few other things. If there's some pretty flatware, I'll probably buy that. I already have a set of dishes from another estate sale... very high end. I paid $18.00.

All harmless fun!


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Sacred Life Sunday: No Slime Zone!

Typical of so many women of my generation, I've been taught that subjugating my will to the preference of others is a sign of kindness, a sign of selflessness which is the cornerstone of a "good woman". Women of my mother's generation got that pounded into their consciousness even more than mine. It's a hard one to let go.

A few days ago, my housemate loaded a bucket of slime on me that actually caused me to physically recoil. It wasn't about me. She didn't insult me. She was talking about her own life in such hateful, negative and angry terms that I actually walked away from her. There's a time when I would have stood there and listened, figuring it was the kindest thing to do even though it made me feel horrible.

Last Sunday I sat through a class that made me feel slimed as well. It was a very dark, cold place with heartless people. It was harsh, judgmental and punitive. I recoiled.

Yet in both cases, I grappled long and hard with my right to remove myself from those kinds of environments. How does someone walk out on a woman who probably has Alzheimer's? It feels cruel. At the same time, I know it is not my responsibility to take care of her. That is her childrens' responsibility. It is up to her family to make sure her needs are met. I've singlehandedly taken that on for several years now and I feel done. I no longer choose to have that in my life and now I believe I have the right to make that choice.

This is a woman who has consistently shown absolutely no interest in my life or well-being. She has no boundaries. She doesn't know what it means to wait for a "come in" before walking right into my rented unit. It is assumed that I am always available to her for her concerns. She has a sense of entitlement that would send anyone over the edge. I'm sick and bloody tired of humoring her. I've never given her a thorough tongue-lashing even though she deserves it because she's old and sick. It seemed too far out of the range of civility for my personal tastes.

This is part of a larger constellation of changes I have been making. Most of my life has been consumed with the needs and wants of others. First it was my parents. Then my live-in boyfriend. Then it was my ex-husband. Then it was a boss or supervisor. Now it's this woman. It's always been someone else coming first.

Now I'm ready for a new apartment. I just found it this past week. The rent is reasonable and it's in a safe location. I will choose the people who come over. I will choose who has my phone number. I will decide when I want to answer the door and no one will come in unless I let them in. I will - finally - own my own existence in a healthy way. My place will be full of plants and pretty things. It will be a happy, peaceful... perhaps even joyful.. place.

A few months ago, someone on a newscast offhandedly said, "I never got the memo that told me I was supposed to have low self-regard and take crap from people." It was a young woman, filled with the confidence of youth and accomplishment.

I thought about that for a long time. I did get the memo. The women of my generation and before got that memo. It was marked "Urgent" and was written in bold print.

I've torn it up.



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Hateful theology.....

Words mean something. And when we use words to promote hate, however cloaked it is in theology, it's still just plain wrong!

Sunday morning, I went to my class. It is a fill-in class and a big disappointment after the Life Coaching class last month. The focus is Psalm 119. The class is called "Sweeter Than Chocolate." Well, the way it is being interpreted and presented, it should be given the name "More Bitter Than Lemons".

The instructor of the class has blown me out of the water twice now with hateful comments. Her first statement was regarding the death penalty, justifying her support of institutionalized murder. She didn't talk about deterrents or any of the other usual justifications. She framed it in hatred for the criminals.

If this woman was a Muslim, she'd be on the Homeland Security Watchlist!

Her second statement was "we should hate sin. There is too much tolerance of sin these days."

I'm no one's theologian but even I know that the word "sin" translates to "mistake".

There are many approaches to human imperfection and our mistakes. The one I hold is that people who make mistakes usually act from woundedness or ignorance. And, yes, some people are just "born bad". I do believe that. But that's another issue for another time. I still don't believe I have the right to murder them.

At the same time, I think the purpose of religion is reconciliation and healing. It is about a loving universe or God that seeks to heal us, to comfort us and to help us make good choices. It's not all that different than the Ten Precepts of Buddhism. There are rules that make our lives work. There are behaviors and beliefs that lead us to misery. It should be used to bring us together, not tear us apart.

There are some who believe that religion is to execute social control, discourage freedom of thought and to scare people into following cultural customs and norms. They use it to disempower large groups of people so that they can control them. Their greatest tool is fear. That kind of religion, as Marx once said, is the opiate of the masses.

I've read a lot about Jesus over the years and he was amazing! He was straightforward, blunt, honest, authentic and he was very, very kind! Kindness isn't always sappy sweetness. Sometimes kindness is giving someone information they need to make good choices. Sometimes that's bluntly. He healed. That's not to say he never got mad. He got frustrated. Cursing a fig tree for being barren out of season is a sign of frustration, not hatred. There are times when he rebuked people but it wasn't out of hatred or rejection.

The instructor of this class has a superior, smug, arrogant and judgmental attitude. I can't help but believe Jesus would find that appalling. I can feel the tentacles of her judgment, even sitting in the class. It's an energy she throws off.

She has taken a dislike to me, as well she should. We think nothing alike. While I'm sure we have some things in common, I doubt either of us care enough to share our time with each other. I offered to buy a book for a woman who couldn't afford one. I negotiated a bit, said I would pay $15.00 for it rather than $25.00. It's better than giving it away, right? She commented that the woman who needed it hasn't been coming to the classes that long, so why should she get a break? I said "kindness" and walked away. What could I possibly say to something like that? The woman didn't get the book because they wouldn't sell it to me. I guess they think she should be "punished" for not coming to enough of the classes. Yecht! (Since I likely won't finish the class, I'll just give her mine.)

The next few weeks are going to be a challenge. If nothing else, it will test my tolerance for being around people who honestly carry such hateful attitudes - and choose to live their lives in such a small, harsh and unrelenting cocoon. I think it would be a rather smothering and unhappy place to be. I'm happy and grateful that I no longer live in that world.



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Sacred Life Sunday: Indra's Net

It's been an interesting few weeks. It seems the universe is providing me with lots of new opportunities to reconcile the past, become friends with it and make connections with some people, related and not, with whom I have not communicated in 40 years.

At a relative's prompting, I set up a private Facebook account, as private as Facebook can be, that is meant only for old contacts. Relatives and friends left behind in Los Angeles many, many years ago. There are also some cousins I've never met who live on the east coast.

There's a woman I knew in 1967 through 1970. A girl then. We went to high school together. She had it all together. She wasn't overly popular by high school standards. There were three of us who hung out together, an unlikely group. One wanted to be a model. She was tall and blonde and beautiful. The perfect physical type. I was a compulsive, nomadic seeker and it isn't what I wanted to be. It's just what I was - and what I am. I was the hippie. And then there was Carole.

Carole was quiet by nature and that stoicism hid a deep wisdom uncommon for her age. She was always very clear. If I had to sum Carole up in one word, it would be clarity. She stood tall and proud, even during an uneasy adolescence.

I heard from Carole this week. She found me.

She wrote a long newsy letter, filled with accomplishment and ambition. She lives in a lovely, exclusive part of Los Angeles. She is someone for whom achievement clearly matters. On the other hand, that compassion was still present. It was a turn of phrase that let me know. Books she's chosen to read. Seminars she's attended. Her career choice which is in Human Services. Her comment in my yearbook was "never forget that the biggest surprises come in the smallest packages". While I understood the cliche in a superficial way, it took some number of years before I understood what she was saying. She was right on target.

Carole and I have both done human potential seminars. The one we shared the same year but in a different location is est. We both care about the world and the people who inhabit this fragile planet. We both have a quiet nature. We do and did have much in common when you scratch below the surface.

I haven't responded to her letter yet, although I intend to do it soon. I've grappled with myself about how to frame an unusual life at best. I've spent years and years living hand to mouth, gathering up traveling money and taking off to Parts Unknown, hoping to find that One Thing that would make sense of this earthly existence. When I finally made it to Thailand, I knew it was not unfamiliar soil. That's where the compulsive seeking stopped. I was nearly 50 years old.

Everything I own to this day can fit in a 5X5 storage unit. I haven't accumulated things, achievements or people. My life flows. Things come and things go. When I decide to move, I give away huge amounts of accumulated "stuff", then I get more in my new location. People come and people go. It's not that I consider others to be disposable. It's just that I accept at a really root level that people pass through our lives and sometimes moving on is appropriate. My primary achievement is freedom. I don't just want freedom. I need it to exist. It is my oxygen. Anything else would suffocate me. If I didn't die physically, I would die spiritually. The latter is worse than the former in my humble opinion.

These are all things I want to communicate to Carole in a positive way. I no longer find it acceptable to apologize for my life. She hasn't asked that of me but many years of conditioning and culture have led me to believe that it is required. I feel the need to justify my existence for the past 40 years. But this is about me, not her. It's only been the past several months that I've allowed this very judgmental, harsh part of me to surface. When something surfaces that way, it's because it needs to be healed.

So I grapple with some vanity. I want to feel "worthy" of her. I want to feel "equal" to her. And I look at all the ways I don't "measure up".

I can frame this in a way that will accentuate the commonalities between us. I understand Indra's net. We are all connected. We all seek although we might do it in different ways. While our lives might look very different, we share a common bond. We are here. We're all sharing this life experience.

In that context, we can't fail with each other. Carole and I will learn from each other. I will learn from the example of her life and she will learn from the example of mine.

In the end, that's what matters.



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Okay. What in the world was I carrying on about?

Okay. I was vague in my last post about what I am doing. I wanted permission to discuss it in detail and that wasn't forthcoming. There's a very good reason for that and it is one I respect. But I can discuss it in a general sense.

Most of the people who read here are young enough that this probably doesn't have much reality. I'm technically middle-aged (closer to "old" than I like to admit) so it didn't have much reality to me, either. Still, we all have older relatives, older friends and older neighbors or acquaintances.

I am involved in an investigation of elder abuse. Someone I have known for a long time has been targeted by transient criminals who, if allowed, would do harm to her. Since I trained with a private investigator in Tucson and learned those skills, I decided to put them to use now. (Just goes to show that everything we learn along the way comes to good use eventually.) Basically I gather information, compile it, follow up on it and give it to a licensed PI who adds it to information he already has and passes it along to Law Enforcement if that's appropriate. So.. generally, that's what I'm doing.

Older people who don't have a strong support system in their lives are often vulnerable to these transient criminals. The more information Law Enforcement has, the better chance they have of catching and prosecuting them.

Transient criminals move into an area, identify their targets, commit their crimes and move on. They are sometimes called "travelers". They have multiple names and social security numbers which makes them very difficult to track.

An example of the crimes they commit is financial elder abuse. They get close to the targeted old person, often treat them very well in the beginning, giving them plenty of attention and essentially ingratiate themselves. When the time is right, they close in, take advantage of the older person's weakness, perhaps confusion, memory issues and other maladies of old age. They become caretakers.

Often the older person builds a trust relationship which is soon abused. The supposed caretaker will get the older person to give him or her financial control. He might get her to sign a joint tenancy agreement. When she dies, he gets the house. At the very minimum, the "caretaker" will empty out her bank accounts. Another method is to gain the old person's sympathy with elaborate stories of illness or a relative's need. The old person will hand over large sums of money.

A sign of this happening is when an older friend, relative or neighbor begins to isolate. They no longer respond to phone calls or take visitors. This is not the old person's choice. They are being intentionally isolated by the caretaker.

Lonely old men are vulnerable targets. A younger woman will begin to court him, fawn over him and ultimately wipe him out financially. She will tell him how much she loves him and ask for a BMW. She cooks him meals and generally pampers him until he believes she really loves him.

Being old is difficult in this culture where old people are viewed as disposable. This is really the larger issue.

So what can we do? We can pay attention to older relatives, friends, acquaintances and neighbors. We can notice who is hanging around and make sure their motives are pure. If we do have to provide a caretaker, make sure he or she is accredited and bonded.

These criminals often put ads out on Craigslist, offering their services as a caretaker. Never, ever, respond to those ads! If you need a caretaker, go to a reputable source. Have a background check done and make sure a Trusted Someone is in charge of the money.

Educate yourself and those in your community about these crimes. One way is to have a speaker come from ElderAngels to give a talk at your community organization, school, church or other gathering place.

When the case is closed that I am involved in, I'll be able to talk about exactly what I am doing and what I've discovered. At first, my intention was to protect only the older person I know. The more work I've done with this, the more I realize it's an issue I care a great deal about. I've decided to continue on, volunteering my services in a more general sense.


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Wellness Wednesday: Choosing Life

"Choose life" is the first thing that came to me this morning when I woke up.

But what does that really mean? It doesn't mean embracing life as it is without challenge and it doesn't mean stretching ourselves so far that we snap.

This is a balance I've been learning about lately as I confront social phobia and try to find the right configuration of social activity that works for me specifically. "The world" tells us that we should always be social, always be available, always enjoy being around people. For introverts, that's pure torture. We need to balance that in a special way and it's quite a learning curve!

Some socializing is important. It's important to have a support network in this life. None of us can do it entirely alone, as much as we might like the idea of it. For me, part of "choosing life" is the willingness to create that network, even though it's not entirely comfortable.

I am also involved in something that I hope to blog about here eventually. Right now I can't. I can say that it involves possible elder abuse and it is, frankly, putting me in a degree of danger. "Choosing life" also means doing hard things, even when they're scary, simply because they have to be done. This situation, make no mistake, is scaring me to death but I have to follow through on it.

Choosing life is also about making changes we know we need to make and having the courage to do it. My life is very much about "being brave" these days. I can't believe how many times I have chanted that short mantra over the past four or five months. Be brave. Be brave. Be brave. It's not about achievement. It's about the effort. Being brave doesn't have to be heroic. It can be as small or as large as we can do at the time. While it's scary and challenging, it's all good because it's choosing the fullness of life.

Speaking of scary and challenging, Angela at Eclectic Recovery is taking a big step in her life. She is choosing life. Can you take a few minutes and go over to wish her luck?



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Sacred Life Sunday: No "Mean" Theology!

I attended the tail end of another class this morning.

First, let me say what I liked. It was very diverse with all sorts of people. Men, women, Black, white, young, old. Second, although I disagreed with the teacher on many things, she was a darned good teacher! Thorough, well-spoken, never rambling. Her research was very, very good!

It may seem odd to some that I am taking all these Christian classes when I am a declared Buddhist. Actually, there is no inconsistency. Buddhism doesn't address the issue of the existence of God. That is for each individual to decide herself/himself. My desire is to study as much as I can in as many traditions as possible. Even though I did this years ago in college, the courses are far more sophisticated and thorough now, so it's worth doing again.

I like the church offering the classes. I like their approach to community which is very proactive. They offer all sorts of classes, have a lending library and even have a pastor devoted to answering individual questions and offering guidance. There is nothing ostentatious or pretentious about it. It's very welcoming and the thing I like best is that they never, ever, talk about money.

This morning's class was about the second book of Thessalonians, 3rd chapter - in which I found a lot of what Olivia calls "mean theology". This was perhaps one of the "meaner" books I've read in the Bible and found the need to "soften" it. The instructor guided us through the literal words without interpreting them for us.

In the middle of the class, I asked her "aren't we talking about reciprocity here, about participation in community?" To her credit, she was willing to discuss this at length and to respond to not only me but others in the class who had similar questions. The passage sounds heartless and completely lacks compassion if there is no explanation or extrapolation. We all come to this planet with different capabilities. I believe work can take many forms. It doesn't have to mean "employment" in the typical sense of that. It can't be quantified in the way she was presenting it. We debated it and I was glad to get the opportunity to present an alternative interpretation.

I was sensitive to the fact that there were two women in the class who are disabled and that doesn't include me. Does that mean they have no value as human beings and should be left to starve? Hardly! Yet the presentation being given without challenge was "mean theology". It was a way of using God's word to diminish, demean or minimize another person. It was based on fear and judgement. Very distasteful, all in all.

Don't get me wrong. I don't believe anyone should be free to just sit on their butts and take from others. I believe a major component of spiritual maturity is figuring out where and how we can contribute. It is important is to recognize all the different ways we can give to each other and embrace that. It doesn't have to look any particular way.

If someone is not contributing anything - and I mean anything - then we have an issue to address. Sometimes someone is not aware of it, might not be aware of how they are not reciprocating. Perhaps they haven't been made aware of a way to reciprocate. We owe it to them to bring the issue up in a gentle, loving way and hear what they have to say. And to offer something they can do.

Long, long ago - when dinosaurs still roamed the earth, I was exhorted by a coworker on a social justice project. He told me I was always late and never stuck around at the end of the meeting to help. He was right. I did do those things. Last one in and first one out.

On yet another occasion, more recently, I was exhorted by someone with whom I share a recovery group, saying that I was too harshly judgemental and that I made her uncomfortable. She got to a point where she no longer wanted to talk in front of me because she could sense my judgement about her choices, her values and her cultural alignment.

Both of those people were right to bring me to consciousness and my behavior changed as a result. It wasn't easy to hear. None of us like to be confronted with our faults but by bringing it to my attention, they helped me grow.

That is community.

The way this lesson was presented seemed to be saying "reject all those who do not live to our standards and whose lives don't look exactly the way we want them to look." I don't see that as something from a loving God. I believe God calls us to compassion, first and foremost. I also believe God calls us to be involved with each other, to teach each other, to encourage each other and to help each other grow.


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Sacred Life Sunday: My inner drill sergeant....

This morning's class, even though it was the last, was the best one we've had through the series. Many people opened up and talked about their own concerns for the future, what they wanted to do and how to help each other manifest it. The overall topic was forming community and how to be of service within the community.

Most people had something to say about what they felt blocked them from offering all they could. Some brought up the disconnectedness among all of us. Others brought up the "faux busyness" so many use to isolate themselves. One woman, the youngest among us, came up with a good solution using technology. We brainstormed it roundtable fashion and I was enchanted! In my element! By the end of the class, three or four of us agreed to get together and talk about how to make it happen.

It had little to do with Life Coaching but within a larger context, it definitely incorporated the purpose of it.

As I'd agreed to do last week, I was coached in front of everyone. Procrastination was my topic. The facilitator (who is also the instructor) sat patiently while I unpacked the many reasons for my chronic procrastination. I can find a million and one excuses to not do something I'm afraid of doing. Fear is definitely at the root of it. When I want to do something, I definitely get it done which is true for most of us.

We used my visiting a group that is not structured and is not a classroom setting as the focus. What steps can I take to make myself go? I also gave myself permission to decide that it might be the wrong move for me, that perhaps I'm not yet ready for purely social situations. Unless there is a higher purpose, I can't see forcing myself to be someone I am not. The only way to find out if it is really who I am or whether it's just more fear-based choice-making is to attend something and see how it feels.

My internal judge is very, very harsh which showed during the coaching session. There is no drill sergeant in any boot camp in this country who could possibly be any harder on me than I am on myself. Other people in the class commented on that as a matter of fact. They were a bit startled to hear how harsh and judgmental I was when it came to my excuses. I have a habit of speaking to myself in a way that would get me punched out if I spoke to anyone else that way.

I admitted all my fears and the reasons for them. I was open about being afraid of situations like that because I don't feel adequate. I'm afraid of rejection. I'm afraid of judgment. I'm afraid of going into a situation where I have to do the whole "will I be accepted" dance with a bunch of strangers. I don't trust people to be kind. It exposes every bit of the miasma that resides at the core of me. It exposes parts of me that I've been very good at burying for a lot of years. There is absolutely nothing in my general appearance that would reveal that I feel that way. Like a demon on my shoulder, it just whispers in my ear and keeps me trapped. Coaching, which is not counseling or mentoring, was used to help me walk through ways to move forward. It's all about making a commitment and following through with some level of accountability.

It was a little awkward, admitting in front of so many people that I am a complete chicken when it comes to engaging community without a "job" or designated purpose. In the strictest sense, I think we did a good job of moving through it and coming up with some solid ideas for progress.

I got through it and hopefully we all learned something from it.

Now I'm looking for the next class!



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Sacred Life Sunday: Back to the Wall....

This morning's class was a real challenge!

It was about putting the philosophical into practical application. It's easy to philosophize things. It's even easy to admit my considerable fears and reservations. To commit to change is entirely different.

The instructor had us write a list of things we are willing to do to become spiritually mature.

I pulled out my stenography notebook and began writing. It flowed out and I let it. I wanted to see where it would go.

1. Be brave! In small steps. Be willing to step outside of my comfort zone, despite social phobia. Spend less time in the company and safety of written words and more in the company of living beings.

2. Be brave! To get beyond fear of inclusion. Being included does not automatically mean I will be engulfed. Trust others. Trust that they will respect my boundaries. Trust that I will respect theirs.

3. Be brave! Be willing to corral some of my gypsy spirit and commit to being part of a group. Be flexible Get over fear of group politics.

4. Be brave! Trust that God will catch me before I fall. I'm terrified of spiritual heights and I've found much safety in "living small" so I'd be safe. I've avoided fearful things rather than confronting them.

5. Be brave! Stop living in abject fear of rejection. It has kept me from growing in every area of my life. Let go of the past and participate in the future.

This was all very easy to write, as I said. I'm good at that. (I didn't even edit it before including it here. This is exactly as it came out in class.)

And then I remember how terrified I'd been for the half hour I had to stand around before the class started. There were hundreds of people, all attending a service or going to a different class. It was like standing still for a picture and not knowing what to do with my hands. I scanned the environment for an escape. Go out and wait in my car. Find the restroom. Anything that would remove me from that awkward position, surrounded by families and friends, all of whom knew each other. I felt like an idiot standing alone.

I wanted to run.

So... even knowing I have to overcome these things to fully reach my own potential and to contribute something meaningful to the community, I still want to run and hide. It's scary. Very scary!

Now I have to come up with an actionable plan, something I am willing to do to get beyond these things. It doesn't have to be a permanent and immediate solution ~ but it has to be something I can actually do.

That is my task during the week and then next Sunday, I will likely be coached publicly in front of the class. (That should interesting! Ahem.) Anyway, that is my first Be Brave step. I will allow the instructor to coach me that way - and I will be honest.

Now I'm going to go hide under the bed for a while. I think I need a warm blanket and a teddy bear. :)



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The Damascus Road

Last weekend at my class, the instructor used the story of the Saul on the Damascus Road as a metaphor for discovering the purpose in our lives. What was the "AHA" moment that brought Saul to Paul?

Through the entire class, I kept thinking that it's not something we "discover". It's not an epiphany. It's something we recognize when we choose to be available.

I don't believe personally that there is a deity who has a perfect design for each of our lives individually. I believe there is a deity who designed a way of life. When we live that way, our lives work. When we don't, our lives don't work. And it's all about availability, integrity and responsiveness.

The assignment for this week is to write about the way we want to approach God about discovering our "personal plan for spiritual growth".

We can't be available when we are self-centered, obsessed with discovering our own uniqueness (if everyone is unique, what's so unique about that?) and we can't be available if we are unwilling to look outside ourselves, our lives and our experiences.

Maybe I'm too jaded or just too old, but I no longer believe that we have sudden, magical transformations. Transformation is hard work. My personal Damascus Road was a desert, an empty desert with no plants, no water, no nurturing, no comfort, no color and no meaning. My Damascus Road was brutal and heartless. My Damascus Road often included only me and a bottle of booze, lamenting the emptiness and unhappiness of my pitiful existence. (yes, I was very good at feeling sorry for myself. I was a horrid drunk!)

It was rough, no doubt, even though self-imposed and self-created. On the other hand, I can recognize now why I needed it. Through that experience, I've come to understand certain things about spiritual growth.

We can not grow spiritually when we stay in our comfort zone.

We can not grow spiritually when we think like children, believing that things appear magically out of nowhere with no effort on our own part.

We can not grow spiritually if we hang on to the belief that God has nothing better to do that micromanage every aspect of our lives.

We can not grow spiritually when we refuse to face our own prejudices, our own fears and our own stagnancy. If we're not willing to change, we will not discover purpose.

We can not grow spiritually if we're not giving to others. If we only look for what we can get, we'll get "the desert". I learned this the hard way.

We can not grow spiritually if we don't have passion for something. I have passion for other desert-dwellers, those who are alone in the world because I was once there and know what I would have given if there'd been someone to reach a hand out to me in true understanding of that experience - in a similar context. A good coach, friend or mentor who would have given me a well-needed spiritual kick in the ass would have been good, too.

We can not grow spiritually if we don't understand that our "desert" may be someone else's rain forest. (Exhorter, exhort thyself! This is mainly a reminder to myself. :)

We can and do grow spiritually when we stretch ourselves, study new things, learn new things, see the divinity in others and be available. Just. Remain. Open. And then respond.

So this is what I will be sharing with the class next weekend. If you have any other thoughts, I'd love to hear them.



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Picture credit

Moving forward... literally and figuratively

I have not dropped off the planet, died or completely slipped out of contact.

Over the past few months, I've made a conscious effort to spend less time on the computer and more time learning new things and trying to expand my horizons from this one little studio apartment to include the outside world a bit more.

I'm getting ready to move which takes considerable energy. The first step is getting nearly everything I own into a storage unit so that I won't be overwhelmed when I choose the place I will live. It will allow me to gradually empty out the storage unit. As always, it's about avoiding becoming overwhelmed and bringing out one of my worst qualities which is to ultimately hit the "f*** it" switch.

I've just begun Life Coaching classes which take 10 or so hours a week. This coming weekend will be from 4:00-9:00 on Friday evening and 8:00-4:00 on Saturday. Even though that is a lot of concentrated time, I'm really feeling "shackles off" as Martha Beck would say about these classes. All told, they will take until December to complete. After that, I will choose some new classes.

The classes are wonderful because they're providing me with an opportunity to learn something useful that I can share with the community. Thinking back, I can't tell you how much I would have loved having a "coach", someone to hear me out and help me develop a plan to create the life I would have preferred to live. Giving that to someone, particularly those who are unusual and not quite legitimized in this culture, is just the greatest way I can imagine to spend my time and energy.

There are too many people out there with an agenda and they try to cram people into boxes where they'll never fit and never find fulfillment. Unfulfilled people do not have the energy to give to their community. I was that way, too, and had nothing to offer because I couldn't even manage to build my own foundation. There are so many people who are in the same position.

I'm still reading lots of new books and have plenty of recommendations. Hopefully I'll be able to put some of them up here.

One in particular though.... "Quaker Summer" by Lisa Samson. This book changed my life. The two sisters in the book became "life coaches" of a sort for me and helped me to understand that all the philosophizing in the world, all the professions of faith, all the activity in the world, means absolutely nothing if it doesn't come from the heart and if it doesn't change the way we do things. If there's no passion behind our activities, thoughts and beliefs, they're hollow. And, as the book says, "there are too many exhorters in the world". There comes a time when we realize that all the shouting about how rotten the world is and how we think it should be different is just vanity. (Pardon me, Solomon.) The underlying message, for me, was "just do it".

Anyway, the book is cheap on Amazon and I highly, highly recommend it. It doesn't matter what religion you practice. The message is the same for all of us.

Enough for now!


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The Eternal Summer....

Tomorrow is the official beginning of Fall.

So what happened here?

The temperatures will be in the 100s for the next three or four days with those following being in the 90s.

It's too hot here!

Sometimes I wonder if it's just my weird perception. This morning at Starbucks I asked the server if it seemed to her that it is staying hot longer and longer each year. She agreed that it is. Not exactly scientific but I considered her answer to be a validation.

When I came here from Tucson, it truly was not this hot for this many months. It stayed toasty for a few months and then September would bring falling leaves and crisp mornings. Certainly not as cold or crisp as Colorado or Maryland where I've lived in the past - but a nice modified autumn.

Now it is becoming more and more like Tucson. There are two seasons: summer and Christmas. I feel trapped inside a box with refrigerated air. (That is when I can get the owner of this house to turn it on without a major and extremely annoying debate. That in itself is enough to get me to move on.) Hot weather affects different people differently. Obviously. It makes me cranky, lethargic and far more hot tempered than I am typically. I've never been good at "just putting up" with anything. As Nietzsche said, "if it's tottering, give it a final shove".

It may be time to pack up the old Saturn and head north. I'm thinking of someplace near the Oregon border and hopefully near the coast. Eureka, Arcata, Crescent City. Shasta County. I love rain, fog, cool temperatures and water. Living near the ocean would be heavenly!

As usual, I'll move on the cheap and suddenly. Can't seem to purge my wanderlust and the heat feels like a validation of Right Action. It's time to go.


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Not The Queen of the Slipstream....

First off, I apologize for the Word Verification. The reason it's there is because of a spammer who was rather relentless and the bot picked up this site, continually posting the same tired ad. It was in some sort of a foreign language and there was nothing else that would stop it. In a week or so, I should be able to remove it.

Now.. my meeting with M which was actually a phone meeting:

We talked for a few hours this past week. It was an enjoyable conversation and showed me in so many ways that we often don't change as much as we think we have. What might feel drastic to us is actually little more than a re-framing.

I am still a free-spirited, freedom-loving, pick-up-and-leave kind of girl, never quite able to shake my gypsy-like existence. I still suffer (literally sometimes) from chronic wanderlust and have never been good at creating roots in any area of my life. My worldview and my lifestyle are subject to change when I feel the need and I probably have an invisible sign around my neck that says "don't tie me down" and "don't tread on me". There's nothing I love more than a new idea. I think in terms of possibilities in a very global sense but give little thought to the minutiea of my own small life. Everything is macro to me. These are traits I've had for a lifetime. I am the queen of the slipstream.

She is not.

M has lived a more conventional life. She's a nurse, far more conservative than me without being right wing or obnoxious. She's just more conventional. Traditional. She's followed a traditional path in her Christianity and she's very well-studied. She's not a lemming. She asks the difficult questions and seeks out the answers. She has three children, all grown now... owns a house in the country, is surrounded by her beloved dogs and a wonderful mate. She's focused and intelligent. Just the way she's always been.

It was a delight to talk with her and I hope we'll talk again. At the same time, I'm not much on living in the past and any relationship we developed now would have to be in the now and based on now. I'm not into nostalgia. There are things back there that I have no interest in revisiting. M knew me when I was a drunk. M knew my mother. She has a memory like a steel trap. I don't. The last thing I want to do is get gummed up in that flypaper. I have always compartmentalized my life. Then. Now.

She said she wanted to have the kind of friendship we had in the past... "joined at the hip"... which caused a fight or flight response in me. I can never be joined at the hip with anyone. The more someone tries to rein me in, the faster I run. The only way to get close to me is to give me the space to choose it myself. I spook easily.

There was curiosity. There was general intel-gathering. What have you been up to small talk. Cautious maneuvering of an awkward situation for both of us. There wasn't an immediate connection on either side. The truth is, she said, "I'll call you tomorrow" and that was five days ago. I don't think that means I'll never hear from her again. I think it means she needs time to think, has other things going on in her life and decided to put the call off. It's okay. I haven't been sitting by the phone. At the same time, I am completely okay with it if she decides that I am not someone who fits into the life she's designed.

It was still great to have a long talk, catch up and compare notes. Even if we both decide to just move on with our lives, it was a well-spent couple of hours.


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