there is no poetry
in this life
vocaloids from fragmented
borrowed brain scans
paint spray of human delusions
sunrise with a hangover
the final spark of a dream
Showing posts with label money. Show all posts
Showing posts with label money. Show all posts
Friday, April 1, 2011
Monday, October 18, 2010
This Moment Is Mine
There are days like these. Too many to count. I still have dreams and passions. Yet, society has put me on the shelf. I fulfilled the academic expectation to my best ability. I flew into the workforce wanting to be part of the solution. I raised my family to be independent and knowledgable. I kicked the crutches of alcohol and drugs. I forgave the monsters and hugged my enemies. I don't have a criminal record. I embrace my imperfections and use them to strengthen my passions. Yet...yet...I am still here the same way I was ten or twenty years ago. Still asking the same questions. Still hearing the same answers.
Every morning appears to be a new opportunity provided to me. I can make a change in a direction that will be different from yesterday. Then I am flooded with the reality of how much work it will take to achieve my dream or reach a goal. I don't want to be bitter. I don't want to be judgemental. I don't want to blame the white man, my mother, a politician, my children, my neighbor, the rich, the poor, the racist, or me. I just want to make my life mean something. I want my children to look back and be proud to say that was my mother. I want my grandchildren to walk with honor knowing I gave what I could to ensure they could carry on strength in knowing who they are.
The world will not know my name. My nieces and nephews won't even say my name. When the years pass that is all that matters. "Who will remember?"
There isn't much I can say about his day that is different from any other day. I can say I am giving it another try. I know my blessings. I am aware of the escape I have perfected. I live with smiles, love, and passion.
This moment is mine.
Every morning appears to be a new opportunity provided to me. I can make a change in a direction that will be different from yesterday. Then I am flooded with the reality of how much work it will take to achieve my dream or reach a goal. I don't want to be bitter. I don't want to be judgemental. I don't want to blame the white man, my mother, a politician, my children, my neighbor, the rich, the poor, the racist, or me. I just want to make my life mean something. I want my children to look back and be proud to say that was my mother. I want my grandchildren to walk with honor knowing I gave what I could to ensure they could carry on strength in knowing who they are.
The world will not know my name. My nieces and nephews won't even say my name. When the years pass that is all that matters. "Who will remember?"
There isn't much I can say about his day that is different from any other day. I can say I am giving it another try. I know my blessings. I am aware of the escape I have perfected. I live with smiles, love, and passion.
This moment is mine.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Magical Restaurant
In challenging times I turn to history.
First I go to my own. A childhood with
adventure and hardships. At the time
it was life. The adventure was surviving
it and the hardship was using my imagination.
One memory that stands takes me under a
kitchen table with my siblings. The adults
have all gone somewhere and I have been left
to protect. Under the table was a magical
restaurant. The five potatoes we shared were
turned into apple pie, chocolate, ice cream,
jello - anything the heart desired - and there
was enough to go around twice!
I was eight years old and I survived
the adventure through imagination.
First I go to my own. A childhood with
adventure and hardships. At the time
it was life. The adventure was surviving
it and the hardship was using my imagination.
One memory that stands takes me under a
kitchen table with my siblings. The adults
have all gone somewhere and I have been left
to protect. Under the table was a magical
restaurant. The five potatoes we shared were
turned into apple pie, chocolate, ice cream,
jello - anything the heart desired - and there
was enough to go around twice!
I was eight years old and I survived
the adventure through imagination.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Let's Learn How to Make Money
Okay so i have been doing some reading or research on how to make money. The online resource is so vast this research could take up so much of my time I would never have time for anything else. So I am going to begin. First, what have I learned so far? I read over and over the best way to retire early is to start saving early. So when I was maybe 16 in my first job I should have been informed of the reality that tomorrow would require that I pay bills and the little paycheck could have accumulated over time and built a pretty good nest egg for these trying times. Well that didn't happen and I was never taught much about saving for tomorrow. So I am telling my children and helping them to begin their accounts on a steady basis so they will have something saved in the later years.
Okay, now the next thing I learned is that there are no quick get rich ideas out there that are 100% guaranteed.
Next, make money using what you already know and are passionate about. I like to create! I love to write! Not only do i come up with some great ideas i can also see it through to its fruition. So I guess the next step would be to start with a project that would also generate some income. then I would use that to invest in more materials. I should have a dollar goal that would allow me to put toward something that could generate more money. I have always like the idea of property investments and sustainable living projects.
I think the most important thing is to get started by reading as much as you can about the area of interest. Attend the free seminars that may be in the area and speak with others that are closely connected. And when in doubt scribble it on a piece of paper, read it remember the experience and toss the paper in the trash. Leave it there because doubt only clouds the inspiration to succeed that should be the thought each morning!
Now the reality! In a week my family and I are homeless. There is nothing I can do about it. I have done all that I can. So I surrendered to the idea that I cannot change this from happening but I am excited by the new journey. We'll do okay and in no time we will be back on our feet. My daughter had her first recital today. My son received 'the' phone call for a new job with higher pay and more hours. I have been asked to submit a manuscript of poetry. It will all work out. ALL IS GOOD AND THE WAY IT SHOULD BE.
Okay, now the next thing I learned is that there are no quick get rich ideas out there that are 100% guaranteed.
Next, make money using what you already know and are passionate about. I like to create! I love to write! Not only do i come up with some great ideas i can also see it through to its fruition. So I guess the next step would be to start with a project that would also generate some income. then I would use that to invest in more materials. I should have a dollar goal that would allow me to put toward something that could generate more money. I have always like the idea of property investments and sustainable living projects.
I think the most important thing is to get started by reading as much as you can about the area of interest. Attend the free seminars that may be in the area and speak with others that are closely connected. And when in doubt scribble it on a piece of paper, read it remember the experience and toss the paper in the trash. Leave it there because doubt only clouds the inspiration to succeed that should be the thought each morning!
Now the reality! In a week my family and I are homeless. There is nothing I can do about it. I have done all that I can. So I surrendered to the idea that I cannot change this from happening but I am excited by the new journey. We'll do okay and in no time we will be back on our feet. My daughter had her first recital today. My son received 'the' phone call for a new job with higher pay and more hours. I have been asked to submit a manuscript of poetry. It will all work out. ALL IS GOOD AND THE WAY IT SHOULD BE.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Recession: Time Stands Still
In every news story, paper and online, strings of words attempt to describe or predict the path of the global economic crisis. There are references made to a crisis similar only to the 1929 Depression. Now, although this is before my time the thought of such a time returning is frightening to say the least. The only reference I have of this time is a movie I viewed recently, Cinderella Man. The struggles the family will endure to survive in a time when resources and opportunity are limited to a select few. Well....
Time stands still for those who have felt an economic crisis all their life. And until the rest of the population has resorted to third world conditions then that is when I certainly will be in dire circumstances-or dead. Time stands still and I do not feel the loss of 'things' I've never had or wished to acquire. What keeps me up at night is the thought that it could get worse than it is right now.
I named this blog Poverty Reality because of comments by others who assumed through observation that they knew what it was like to live in, be born into, poverty. For the most part, I use it for a vomit bucket for those sickening moments to avoid diving into a abyss of self pity. I had to, have to, sift through so many invading thoughts that may be destructive. I am trapped at the moment and that may be a blessing in disguise considering the events going on around us. I need to get a job but now the only jobs that would be offered to someone like me are taken by highschool students and would not pay for our rent. I have a degree but it barely gets my foot in the door now. If only I could have back the last ten years and keep my mind from this moment. Poverty RE ality....there may be an economic crisis tightening the pockets of stangers that have thrived on the industries of sickness, crime, violence, need, misery....but the pockets are still empty of those that have held the strangers up...the impoverished. Here at the bottom we help each other. We smile at each other like we know, we understand, we belong. A Have Not status that is forced on us by the changing trends - expectations and tolerance. WE cannot understand why children with bloated stomachs still spray the saturday afternoon television programming when one person can be worth billions. WE want to help but have little to offer and what is available to give is deemed worthless...pitiful. So we share our bread with our neighbor as we watch the headless bodies pass on street corners holding tight their loaves.
An opportunity to share, live, and wake without shame that is all.
Have to get out of this house Now! I am afraid. Somethings coming. Change? No. Reveal.
Time stands still for those who have felt an economic crisis all their life. And until the rest of the population has resorted to third world conditions then that is when I certainly will be in dire circumstances-or dead. Time stands still and I do not feel the loss of 'things' I've never had or wished to acquire. What keeps me up at night is the thought that it could get worse than it is right now.
I named this blog Poverty Reality because of comments by others who assumed through observation that they knew what it was like to live in, be born into, poverty. For the most part, I use it for a vomit bucket for those sickening moments to avoid diving into a abyss of self pity. I had to, have to, sift through so many invading thoughts that may be destructive. I am trapped at the moment and that may be a blessing in disguise considering the events going on around us. I need to get a job but now the only jobs that would be offered to someone like me are taken by highschool students and would not pay for our rent. I have a degree but it barely gets my foot in the door now. If only I could have back the last ten years and keep my mind from this moment. Poverty RE ality....there may be an economic crisis tightening the pockets of stangers that have thrived on the industries of sickness, crime, violence, need, misery....but the pockets are still empty of those that have held the strangers up...the impoverished. Here at the bottom we help each other. We smile at each other like we know, we understand, we belong. A Have Not status that is forced on us by the changing trends - expectations and tolerance. WE cannot understand why children with bloated stomachs still spray the saturday afternoon television programming when one person can be worth billions. WE want to help but have little to offer and what is available to give is deemed worthless...pitiful. So we share our bread with our neighbor as we watch the headless bodies pass on street corners holding tight their loaves.
An opportunity to share, live, and wake without shame that is all.
Have to get out of this house Now! I am afraid. Somethings coming. Change? No. Reveal.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
My Son Has A Job
Well he did it. It is the feat that has challenged everyone of us in the family - finding employment. It took two years but his resumes finally landed him a job for afterschool and weekends. I worry that it may effect his already stressed time for class assigments but I know he also "needs" things I can't get him right now. Never mind the list of wants. I hate the fact that I couldn't provide for him like his friends' parents. The positive is he will learn to find his own way in this world. Hopefully without the bitterness that the obvious inequalities of opportunity can create. He knows he will have to work hard and appreciate the bits that he recieves. Back to the interview, it went well and now he will be going in for training on Tuesday. He will be a cook in a nice little restaurant. It all works out in time. A couple years ago he said he was interested in becoming a chef. He is so excited. He is already making plans for his first pay cheque. That makes me smile. The first on his list is a sweater and supper with the family. I love my son. Even though he can sure be a challenge sometimes I love everything about him.
The reality of living with limited means tends to surface during tense situations. I had a few words with my son today. Is the time we have together worth spending even a second in anger? I know it bothers us that we "don't have" and we are just making it with very little. The stress of this can tear families apart. The main goal is to ensure these times do not fester into the following days. We are not a perfect family but anger is sure felt ten fold especially in the mist of hard times. He is downstairs right now kicking around a ball. A bit of a tense cloud above our home. Fits in perfect considering it is on the verge of the first snow of the season. Cold and raining grey day. Yet, it still seems like 'all is good and the way it should be'.
I think we all try to hard when comparing to the outside world. The Hollywood or even cartoon portrayals of family life influence the young minds and build unreal expectations. Having a dream is one thing but attempting to recreate fictional characters from a world where sickness finds miraculous cures or everyone has a job with pay enough for the bills, is just plain cruel. Happiness becomes based on something or someone 'not real'. For instance, the two parent family is the ideal in any scenario. Or having a family vacation is not unreasonable. But when those are not present and seem to the simplest in the 'dream', the bigger dream becomes less likely. My daughter wanted to study to be a pediatrician. She experienced the hardships and realizes it is possible but has let it slip even farther from her grasp because of the hardships. I wanted to be a published author. I let that dream sit for so many years that I feel it is farther and farther from reach. For my son, it has been over a year now since he has seen or spoken to his father. There is nothing I can do as a mother that will replace what is needed from a father. (I read back on this ramble and hope that it all makes some sense). Happiness an empty word and over used word until it is shared. I watched a very thought provoking movie a week or so ago...Into the Wild or something. A few words that stuck to me were, 'happiness is not real unless shared'. Wow. Simplicity. Yet, for some, a piece of knowledge that takes a lifetime to acquire.
Thanksgiving day tomorrow. We have the turkey and not much fixings but we are all just happy to have the family to share it with.I can't wait until the aroma of turkey and cake fill our home and we can sit together for another time. That is what it is all about. I have my family. And 'no' the second wasted on anger was not worth the minutes wasted dwelling. Food. I'll make my son something as a teaser for tomorrow's feast or a celebration for his new job. He has a kind heart and strong mind. High Fives all around to anyone and everyone starting a new job this week or any week for that matter!
Peace and HumanKindness
The reality of living with limited means tends to surface during tense situations. I had a few words with my son today. Is the time we have together worth spending even a second in anger? I know it bothers us that we "don't have" and we are just making it with very little. The stress of this can tear families apart. The main goal is to ensure these times do not fester into the following days. We are not a perfect family but anger is sure felt ten fold especially in the mist of hard times. He is downstairs right now kicking around a ball. A bit of a tense cloud above our home. Fits in perfect considering it is on the verge of the first snow of the season. Cold and raining grey day. Yet, it still seems like 'all is good and the way it should be'.
I think we all try to hard when comparing to the outside world. The Hollywood or even cartoon portrayals of family life influence the young minds and build unreal expectations. Having a dream is one thing but attempting to recreate fictional characters from a world where sickness finds miraculous cures or everyone has a job with pay enough for the bills, is just plain cruel. Happiness becomes based on something or someone 'not real'. For instance, the two parent family is the ideal in any scenario. Or having a family vacation is not unreasonable. But when those are not present and seem to the simplest in the 'dream', the bigger dream becomes less likely. My daughter wanted to study to be a pediatrician. She experienced the hardships and realizes it is possible but has let it slip even farther from her grasp because of the hardships. I wanted to be a published author. I let that dream sit for so many years that I feel it is farther and farther from reach. For my son, it has been over a year now since he has seen or spoken to his father. There is nothing I can do as a mother that will replace what is needed from a father. (I read back on this ramble and hope that it all makes some sense). Happiness an empty word and over used word until it is shared. I watched a very thought provoking movie a week or so ago...Into the Wild or something. A few words that stuck to me were, 'happiness is not real unless shared'. Wow. Simplicity. Yet, for some, a piece of knowledge that takes a lifetime to acquire.
Thanksgiving day tomorrow. We have the turkey and not much fixings but we are all just happy to have the family to share it with.I can't wait until the aroma of turkey and cake fill our home and we can sit together for another time. That is what it is all about. I have my family. And 'no' the second wasted on anger was not worth the minutes wasted dwelling. Food. I'll make my son something as a teaser for tomorrow's feast or a celebration for his new job. He has a kind heart and strong mind. High Fives all around to anyone and everyone starting a new job this week or any week for that matter!
Peace and HumanKindness
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Now what!?
Well I finished the shift today. It was a long and very cold day. People are always saying be careful what you wish for you just might get it. Well I had many moments today when I wished I could be home in bed. And this evening as I was leaving my daughter's home I tripped and fell onto the cement. I swore i heard a crack. Without any real concern shown from my darling children I hobbled to the shower fighting back tears. I asked for a break and got it. Long story short I took myself to the emergency room and was told I cracked a bone in my foot. I will be hobbling for awhile. Stay off your feet the Doc says. No matter how I look at it there is no avoiding standing on my feet for the job. I have to quit. So much for the extra income. So much for feeling a bit of relief. I am so fricken used to disappointment yet I still don't like it one bit! I could limp and just keep the weight on the opposite leg. I have to avoid the supervisors or they will surely tell me to leave. Damn my foot hurts...aches. to top it off the Doc who tended to me in the emergency room asked about my employ and what i did..."sort the potatos and what about the unwanted imperfect potatoes what do they do with them? Could feed alot of people those little potatoes that are tossed." Guilt...I knew this but this goes into the topic of how poverty contributes to other issues of environmental impact and social complacency. So many potatoes. I can still smell the earth and hear the hollow clang against the sides of the potato shoot. Another experience. No fair. but all is good and the way it should be....just have to see it.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Special French Fry
Now this is how it feels to really earn your money! Yet it feels great. Another dollar day to take to the bank. I have to ignore all the chaos at home right now. That is what usually prevents me from either completing or enjoying the experience.
Anyways another 12 hour shift. They even expected more time from us. No way! I have a family and I was on the verge of puking dinner and missing my family. My feet are tingling and my back is numb. I am going back for more in the morning. The crew I am with all seem to have built a bit of loyalty to the farm we are working for. they want to help them get the crop done before it is too cold and wet. That is when they all go to waste.
What do I do. The same weird me. I say watch the fries the next time you sit down to snack on the delicious potato. It just might be one of those special potatoes that passed beneath my finger tips and was sent wishes of happiness, humankindness, and peace. HaHaha....special fries with blessings. oh well gotta find something to laugh about no matter what you do.
Laugh today and eat a fry....:)
Anyways another 12 hour shift. They even expected more time from us. No way! I have a family and I was on the verge of puking dinner and missing my family. My feet are tingling and my back is numb. I am going back for more in the morning. The crew I am with all seem to have built a bit of loyalty to the farm we are working for. they want to help them get the crop done before it is too cold and wet. That is when they all go to waste.
What do I do. The same weird me. I say watch the fries the next time you sit down to snack on the delicious potato. It just might be one of those special potatoes that passed beneath my finger tips and was sent wishes of happiness, humankindness, and peace. HaHaha....special fries with blessings. oh well gotta find something to laugh about no matter what you do.
Laugh today and eat a fry....:)
Monday, September 15, 2008
rotten potatoes
The Vegetable sorting job is one of the worst jobs I have had. I have scrubbed inner city toilets, washed unknown chocolate colored smears off walls, and harassed families over the phone for money. Sorting potatoes is definitely in the running for worst job. Arrive before the sun rises and wait alongside the chain smoking grumpy old men. Then when your shift begins your spot of two feet in front of a conveyor belt spits out potatoes of all shapes and sizes. First you have to get over the nauseating motion sickness attributed to the fast forward of the potatoes while your eyes are darting in search of the rotten ones. Once you have survived the motion sickness without incident (up chucking breakfast over potatoes) the tiredness of standing begins to take its toll. The occasional glitch with the machine provides a short rest but usually means a longer sorting period with potatoes piled up in waiting.
Okay, the positive. I feel good knowing I am going to get a pay cheque. Funny. I go to school like I am told. I get a degree like I am told. I apply for jobs like I am told. I remain patient like I am told. My degree got me a job sorting rotten potatoes. Well actually, the degree wasn't mentioned, just a match of desperation meets desperation. They needed help asap and I needed a job asap. I works out some how. Another long day tomorrow, 7am to 8pm. We travel about an hour to work. I am scrambling right now to make enough gas to get there again tomorrow. Damn gas prices. If it wasn't out in the boonies I would walk or ride a bike (if I had one). Time to rest. These 'young' grandma feet are aching and my back is screaming. Best get some sleep or there is no way I will make the 12 hour shift.
Okay, the positive. I feel good knowing I am going to get a pay cheque. Funny. I go to school like I am told. I get a degree like I am told. I apply for jobs like I am told. I remain patient like I am told. My degree got me a job sorting rotten potatoes. Well actually, the degree wasn't mentioned, just a match of desperation meets desperation. They needed help asap and I needed a job asap. I works out some how. Another long day tomorrow, 7am to 8pm. We travel about an hour to work. I am scrambling right now to make enough gas to get there again tomorrow. Damn gas prices. If it wasn't out in the boonies I would walk or ride a bike (if I had one). Time to rest. These 'young' grandma feet are aching and my back is screaming. Best get some sleep or there is no way I will make the 12 hour shift.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Spirit Message
If you have wandered into this site, "welcome". I don't advertise or roam to much to grab attention. But when the attention does come so does the interesting questions and relationships.
I was just reminded of a reemerging message to everyone, us; no particular color, religion, or political stand needed, just an ability to listen. Those who 'know' will understand. There is a time when using what we 'know' will be the most important guide for survival. A spiritual war that began with a division of tribes that occurred during ancient times. During a time when the mysteries of today were not hidden but common knowledge and practice for everyone. The generations of distorted versions of history have attempted to erase all memory or knowledge of these times. A duty that has been passed down to ensure that the unfolding of goals emerge. These goals or ambitions are not in the best interest of those who cherish their freedom. A reawakening of genetic memory that will give rise to the knowledge that will reconnect our existence with our original ancestors for the sake of our survival. This is not a string of words open for debate. If you know then it will make sense. If you don't it is not my responsibility to convince you.
All is good and the way it should be.
I was just reminded of a reemerging message to everyone, us; no particular color, religion, or political stand needed, just an ability to listen. Those who 'know' will understand. There is a time when using what we 'know' will be the most important guide for survival. A spiritual war that began with a division of tribes that occurred during ancient times. During a time when the mysteries of today were not hidden but common knowledge and practice for everyone. The generations of distorted versions of history have attempted to erase all memory or knowledge of these times. A duty that has been passed down to ensure that the unfolding of goals emerge. These goals or ambitions are not in the best interest of those who cherish their freedom. A reawakening of genetic memory that will give rise to the knowledge that will reconnect our existence with our original ancestors for the sake of our survival. This is not a string of words open for debate. If you know then it will make sense. If you don't it is not my responsibility to convince you.
All is good and the way it should be.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
potato potato potato
Gotta do whatcha gotta do when you gotta do it.
Well the up coming week will begin with an early
morning drive to an unknown farm to begin employment
as a "Vegetable Sorter". It is a short term job, but
this grandma needs to get a few things for the winter.
They figure we will have 10 to 12 hour days, alot of standing,
bending, and sorting of course. I hope my ankle holds up.
I actually look forward to actually making some money.
The bad habits already set in. I seen some used clothing
items for $40/bundle that I know would make my teenage son
very happy. I am using this weekend to make a couple of shirts for
my daughter. She gave me an idea of the type of styles she likes.
My task is to try make something similar without the 100 dollar price tag.
The leaves are changing color. Rain is cold.
The tap is dripping. And I have five dollars to
put in my gas tank. My son is applying for another job
at a grocery store. My grandson didn't complain
about the Mac and Cheese dinner I made him.
My daughter loves her Biology class.
Now there's just nothing to beat that kinda life - unfolding.
A step at a time. Just smile. Lift a hand when it is needed
Shed a tear when life hurts. Punch Air in the face when life
cheats. Tickle the world till it rumbles with laughter. Let
Tomorrow's mystery embrace you during stormy nights.
Never regret.
All is good and the way it should be.
Well the up coming week will begin with an early
morning drive to an unknown farm to begin employment
as a "Vegetable Sorter". It is a short term job, but
this grandma needs to get a few things for the winter.
They figure we will have 10 to 12 hour days, alot of standing,
bending, and sorting of course. I hope my ankle holds up.
I actually look forward to actually making some money.
The bad habits already set in. I seen some used clothing
items for $40/bundle that I know would make my teenage son
very happy. I am using this weekend to make a couple of shirts for
my daughter. She gave me an idea of the type of styles she likes.
My task is to try make something similar without the 100 dollar price tag.
The leaves are changing color. Rain is cold.
The tap is dripping. And I have five dollars to
put in my gas tank. My son is applying for another job
at a grocery store. My grandson didn't complain
about the Mac and Cheese dinner I made him.
My daughter loves her Biology class.
Now there's just nothing to beat that kinda life - unfolding.
A step at a time. Just smile. Lift a hand when it is needed
Shed a tear when life hurts. Punch Air in the face when life
cheats. Tickle the world till it rumbles with laughter. Let
Tomorrow's mystery embrace you during stormy nights.
Never regret.
All is good and the way it should be.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Scary World We Have Created
Desperation
A news cast today spoke of two young girls that had assaulted a woman then took her purse. This happened in the evening. I don’t know the circumstances of the girls who resorted to violence for an unknown amount of money but it did make me think about what a person would do in times of desperation.
I sat with the thought of “how desperate would I have to be to resort to acts of violence to achieve or receive what I needed?” There were times in my life when I watched as others ate a meal as my stomach ached with hunger. I was too young to be given employment (legitimate), too young for the hostiles, and too old to be taken in by any of the social services. In those moments of real hunger I contemplated stealing. I would play it over and over in my head. A ten dollar bill could buy a bag of food to last me a week. It would help me stay awake during the day. I spent a lot of time sleeping where I could because of hunger or just plain sadness. Playing the whole assault in my mind always led to seeing a stranger hurt by my hand. Maybe someone also in need for their family and then I come along. I never could do it. This also made me angry. The hardest moments when I was convinced a certain stranger would deserve to have his world shaken by a violent theft. I am thinking of those who would literally kick you to the curb for just walking on the same sidewalk. Maybe they would learn or understand to some degree what it was like to have been told “you have the world at your fingertips” and then find out that was a lie. The decision not to resort to violence in this time of my life was based on a need that no amount of food or money could replace. The need to still look at myself without shame. The world looked at me with distaste but I knew one day, one day, I would taste the type of freedom they had so easily taken for granted. Only a certain few make it out or in.
Back to the two young girls. Today there are so many excuses for why violence is used. I believe desperation is still one of them but it isn’t the strongest motivator. A sub culture fighting for power in what ever way is now the key to survival. They have learned that if you don’t take it you will never have anything. I don’t think this is any different no matter what society or community. The young have just picked up on it and now are enforcing it. A scary world we have created.
A news cast today spoke of two young girls that had assaulted a woman then took her purse. This happened in the evening. I don’t know the circumstances of the girls who resorted to violence for an unknown amount of money but it did make me think about what a person would do in times of desperation.
I sat with the thought of “how desperate would I have to be to resort to acts of violence to achieve or receive what I needed?” There were times in my life when I watched as others ate a meal as my stomach ached with hunger. I was too young to be given employment (legitimate), too young for the hostiles, and too old to be taken in by any of the social services. In those moments of real hunger I contemplated stealing. I would play it over and over in my head. A ten dollar bill could buy a bag of food to last me a week. It would help me stay awake during the day. I spent a lot of time sleeping where I could because of hunger or just plain sadness. Playing the whole assault in my mind always led to seeing a stranger hurt by my hand. Maybe someone also in need for their family and then I come along. I never could do it. This also made me angry. The hardest moments when I was convinced a certain stranger would deserve to have his world shaken by a violent theft. I am thinking of those who would literally kick you to the curb for just walking on the same sidewalk. Maybe they would learn or understand to some degree what it was like to have been told “you have the world at your fingertips” and then find out that was a lie. The decision not to resort to violence in this time of my life was based on a need that no amount of food or money could replace. The need to still look at myself without shame. The world looked at me with distaste but I knew one day, one day, I would taste the type of freedom they had so easily taken for granted. Only a certain few make it out or in.
Back to the two young girls. Today there are so many excuses for why violence is used. I believe desperation is still one of them but it isn’t the strongest motivator. A sub culture fighting for power in what ever way is now the key to survival. They have learned that if you don’t take it you will never have anything. I don’t think this is any different no matter what society or community. The young have just picked up on it and now are enforcing it. A scary world we have created.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Gratitude
I wander back in the short time since I started this blog and notice changes already occurring in my life. I began with such despair as I struggled to keep my heart off the ground. I felt selfish for thinking only of our circumstance when so much pain exists in not so far away places. Yet I could only think of the sadness that clouded over our home. I never stopped caring about others or wanting to help when I could. I have discovered something beautiful about myself during this time. I love people and care enough to keep helping even when I have little to offer. This was important for me to know as I felt something slipping away. I did not want to lose sight of my place in this world as honoured to me by the women before me. I don’t boast about this with false pride it is out of an exciting self realization and confirmation of my path.
Over the last week a string of events occurred that has amazed me to the point of tears. My main goal was just to ensure my family continued to have a home and food on the table. Anything more would be a luxury. I am not in the habit of burdening others with my struggles and have not even told my family I have this blog. So basically no one really knows I am writing these short bits of struggling times.
One day a cheque arrives. Hesitant to believe it was sent to the correct person/address I confirmed its sender and was amazed to find it as owed! The next may not sound too responsible but I was glad I tried it. After I paid the bills and bought some healthy food I had in my pocket 25 dollars when I had to meet someone for a coffee. In the back of the coffee shop was two slot or casino game machines – whatever they are called. My friend put two dollars into it and won ten. I put my five dollars into it and won 250! I pressed the button two more times and another 260. Okay by this time I was freaked! I felt as if I had just done something wrong. It couldn’t be that easy. But now I had over 500 dollars! I received in the last week more than enough to cover the outstanding bills and buy those extras (clothing for my son and daughter, toiletries, and bags of fruit).
Now as I sit here with so much gratitude. And for those who say money can’t buy happiness well try living without it – really without it – for even a couple months. Money is sadly very much needed in a world that has changed so much that hunting for your food is either illegal or poison. My daughter is/was a hunter since she was seven but stopped when she seen how sick the animals were getting. The human impact on the environment has created such havoc on the weather and land the berries will no longer grow. The process of assimilation inflicted on nations has created families with fast food dependencies and sickness. Ironic how we now live on the industrialized crap and cannot afford the food that sustained in the time of the ancestors. The same food that was got by practices deemed savage and outlawed to promote a more civilized approach to living. In the name of assimilation. The healthy ‘savage’ food. I don’t want to live in a tipi and I don’t want to follow buffalo herds. (cannot afford to pay the toll to pass through or the there is no free roaming anymore) I am tired of seeing so many nations starving in a world that has enough for everyone.
Sad. Sad. Poverty Reality.
I am in it.
We are all in it.
Impoverished.
A starving spirit.
But it is all going to change.
Can you hear it?
Over the last week a string of events occurred that has amazed me to the point of tears. My main goal was just to ensure my family continued to have a home and food on the table. Anything more would be a luxury. I am not in the habit of burdening others with my struggles and have not even told my family I have this blog. So basically no one really knows I am writing these short bits of struggling times.
One day a cheque arrives. Hesitant to believe it was sent to the correct person/address I confirmed its sender and was amazed to find it as owed! The next may not sound too responsible but I was glad I tried it. After I paid the bills and bought some healthy food I had in my pocket 25 dollars when I had to meet someone for a coffee. In the back of the coffee shop was two slot or casino game machines – whatever they are called. My friend put two dollars into it and won ten. I put my five dollars into it and won 250! I pressed the button two more times and another 260. Okay by this time I was freaked! I felt as if I had just done something wrong. It couldn’t be that easy. But now I had over 500 dollars! I received in the last week more than enough to cover the outstanding bills and buy those extras (clothing for my son and daughter, toiletries, and bags of fruit).
Now as I sit here with so much gratitude. And for those who say money can’t buy happiness well try living without it – really without it – for even a couple months. Money is sadly very much needed in a world that has changed so much that hunting for your food is either illegal or poison. My daughter is/was a hunter since she was seven but stopped when she seen how sick the animals were getting. The human impact on the environment has created such havoc on the weather and land the berries will no longer grow. The process of assimilation inflicted on nations has created families with fast food dependencies and sickness. Ironic how we now live on the industrialized crap and cannot afford the food that sustained in the time of the ancestors. The same food that was got by practices deemed savage and outlawed to promote a more civilized approach to living. In the name of assimilation. The healthy ‘savage’ food. I don’t want to live in a tipi and I don’t want to follow buffalo herds. (cannot afford to pay the toll to pass through or the there is no free roaming anymore) I am tired of seeing so many nations starving in a world that has enough for everyone.
Sad. Sad. Poverty Reality.
I am in it.
We are all in it.
Impoverished.
A starving spirit.
But it is all going to change.
Can you hear it?
Thursday, July 10, 2008
shame vs humility
Every day is approached with a new sense of understanding.
I am not the type of person to sit and lick my wounds. I feel I am a doer. I always think about the old story of the crab in the bucket. When one crab is trying to climb out the rest of the crabs drag it back down. Well, that happens. Sometimes the other crabs can be people and sometimes it can be government processes, limited resource battles, and on and on. We all want to make it out of here to somewhere – better.
I drove around today. We make jokes about driving on fumes and cross our fingers we make it home. Had to make it to a few places to ensure the weekend wouldn’t be too difficult. I hate the feeling of asking for help or maybe it is the fact that I need help that comes with the shame. I don’t know. I was taught not to be ashamed of asking for help and the rough edges of life teach humility – keeps us grounded. We went to the Salvation Army for a bit of food to hold us over for a week. My son was with me. He put his down when he realized where we were. The he lifted it and asked if they needed volunteers. That's what keeps me believing. I always wanted to be the one filling the little white plastic bags (not good for the environment forgot my cloth bags) and handing them to a mother-just to be the helper for once. It just doesn’t make any sense why a family, including ours, should ever experience hunger for food or the shame that comes with asking for food. I didn’t throw my money away, what little I do have. I paid the bills and then nothing. Prioritizing basic needs utility disconnection or food or shelter. Atleast if we have a roof over our head and lights we ‘feel’ like things could be worse. I look around my home and we have done good with so little. I feel good about that. I remember where I have come from – it seems so far away. I am waiting for this money that would make our family so happy. One click of the mouse in a government office could do this but instead it just lingers with no answers. This money is not a handout it is part of the a Canadian legacy that is supposed to compensate for all the hardship in some way. The Indian residential school legacy of attempting to assimilate through killing the Indian in the child. Now what the hell were they thinking? We held on even tighter and tears flowed to nourish the spirit of the generations today. That is what my great grandmother, grandmother, and mother are all about. That is what I am about. Humility is understanding and remembering where my strength comes from and the shame is what I must find my way passed. There is too much to be done. Life has taught me so much in forty years now it is time to gather my strength.
My son went to apply for another summer position for students. I was so proud of him and his abilities. He has sure taken in a lot at school. When I watch them I know it was all worth the time, love, and energy it took to stay home. I watched as other mothers struggled and then seen their children turn to the streets for that extra something we all look for. I decided I would be right there to catch them if I could when that moment came for my children. I feel I caught most of it. No matter how hard it gets we still know there is better and more to reach for. The crabs can keep grabbing but we will always break loose as we make our way out of the bucket.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
I am not the type of person to sit and lick my wounds. I feel I am a doer. I always think about the old story of the crab in the bucket. When one crab is trying to climb out the rest of the crabs drag it back down. Well, that happens. Sometimes the other crabs can be people and sometimes it can be government processes, limited resource battles, and on and on. We all want to make it out of here to somewhere – better.
I drove around today. We make jokes about driving on fumes and cross our fingers we make it home. Had to make it to a few places to ensure the weekend wouldn’t be too difficult. I hate the feeling of asking for help or maybe it is the fact that I need help that comes with the shame. I don’t know. I was taught not to be ashamed of asking for help and the rough edges of life teach humility – keeps us grounded. We went to the Salvation Army for a bit of food to hold us over for a week. My son was with me. He put his down when he realized where we were. The he lifted it and asked if they needed volunteers. That's what keeps me believing. I always wanted to be the one filling the little white plastic bags (not good for the environment forgot my cloth bags) and handing them to a mother-just to be the helper for once. It just doesn’t make any sense why a family, including ours, should ever experience hunger for food or the shame that comes with asking for food. I didn’t throw my money away, what little I do have. I paid the bills and then nothing. Prioritizing basic needs utility disconnection or food or shelter. Atleast if we have a roof over our head and lights we ‘feel’ like things could be worse. I look around my home and we have done good with so little. I feel good about that. I remember where I have come from – it seems so far away. I am waiting for this money that would make our family so happy. One click of the mouse in a government office could do this but instead it just lingers with no answers. This money is not a handout it is part of the a Canadian legacy that is supposed to compensate for all the hardship in some way. The Indian residential school legacy of attempting to assimilate through killing the Indian in the child. Now what the hell were they thinking? We held on even tighter and tears flowed to nourish the spirit of the generations today. That is what my great grandmother, grandmother, and mother are all about. That is what I am about. Humility is understanding and remembering where my strength comes from and the shame is what I must find my way passed. There is too much to be done. Life has taught me so much in forty years now it is time to gather my strength.
My son went to apply for another summer position for students. I was so proud of him and his abilities. He has sure taken in a lot at school. When I watch them I know it was all worth the time, love, and energy it took to stay home. I watched as other mothers struggled and then seen their children turn to the streets for that extra something we all look for. I decided I would be right there to catch them if I could when that moment came for my children. I feel I caught most of it. No matter how hard it gets we still know there is better and more to reach for. The crabs can keep grabbing but we will always break loose as we make our way out of the bucket.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Empty Cupboards
Well a good a place as any to begin. Empty Cupboards. That's our reality today as two little ones wander through the house as cute as can be. We use our creativity to make the meals as interesting but more importantly, as filling as possible. They don't know yet. They don't know that the life we are living is considered 'poor' 'impoverished' 'low income' 'down and out'. What they do know is we have a life that is very much an improvement that took two generations to transform. My mother and grandmother both have me beat when it comes to 'hard times'. And the limitless abilities for creativity also was what helped in the survival of 13 plus children. Well, keeping the stomachs from growling through the night was only one of the worries of my grandmother's time. A lot of aunts and uncles didn't make it passed their twenties. Starvation of the spirit - took em in the night, on the street, broad daylight, at first newborn breath, during the 18th birthday. Starvation.
Reality in poverty today doesn't mean I live in a cardboard box. Although I feel that situation is too close lately. We have a home - rented- with bits of furniture. The bedrooms are supposed to be havens. I try make it so. With mattresses on the floor covered with homemade cushions. New beds are too expensive and when we buy used we don't think of its history just that it has no holes. Other people's mattresses. I try not to think to much. Well, pride was left back there somewhere maybe in the food bank line or seated in the financial assistance office. I had to make a choice. I received my degree shortly after i had my twins, babies three and four. The father couldn't make his mind up if he was going to stay or go. He was never really with us - always lost in his own thoughts. I knew I would not let my children repeat 'without choice' the same hardships I endured. I would support them through their school, stick to them like a prairie wood tick until they were adults on their own. The toughest times being highschool. They struggled and put up with my strict expectations - 'avoid the alcohol and drug scene atleast until you pass your teens'. Two have made it through their teens with a bit of life bruising from funerals of young friends and understanding of consequence. I kept a job for short periods of time, but always left to put family fires out. I had no outside support from family or friends. They believed I was just wasting my time, just send them out there and let them learn. This is half true. The other part of the story is if you don't give them the support and tools to deal with the decisions today they are easily pulled into situations. I figured well if they choose that live they choose it. But until they are on their own I am going to be here to give them the knowledge o f a life worth fighting for, a choice. When they are on their own they cannot use the excuse "i didn't know".
My daughter asked me after a day of school, 'mom are we poor?' Ofcourse I gave her the version that basically says 'as long as we have each other we are the richest and luckiest people in the world'. I believe this to be true but this only survives for so long. If I don't find a way out. another generation will be looking for answers that I couldn't figure out. Starvation.
Well so far I have been ranting.
Reality:
1.Money in pocket - $0
2.What we had for supper:
~Creative Casserole (Basically put anything left in the fridge or cupboard onto a plate with some baked biscuits made of flour/baking powder/water.
Baked Biscuits
Bacon
Five Sausages
Water
It's amazing how children and teenagers can sit with you and enjoy a meal like this. My son came home with a bottle of pop and shared it three ways. My daughter is getting an academic award. We are getting the vehicle fixed tomorrow, flat tire slashed by some back alley rats and unregistered without insurance. Dimes, nickels and loads of pennies in a backpack to take to the bank for my daughter. It is her end of the school year dinner with friends. No new clothes for two years but we did splurge with forty dollars at the second hand store. Name brands too. Nothing wrong with that. We just have to make it out of this whole poverty reality thing.
Which brings me to the purpose of this blog 'stepping outa this reality'.
This is my first post. I hope to write more tonite. I am putting together a plan. Just a step at a time. If anyone happens by this corner of the web world leave me a comment or offer ideas to help me and my family step outa poverty.
Reality in poverty today doesn't mean I live in a cardboard box. Although I feel that situation is too close lately. We have a home - rented- with bits of furniture. The bedrooms are supposed to be havens. I try make it so. With mattresses on the floor covered with homemade cushions. New beds are too expensive and when we buy used we don't think of its history just that it has no holes. Other people's mattresses. I try not to think to much. Well, pride was left back there somewhere maybe in the food bank line or seated in the financial assistance office. I had to make a choice. I received my degree shortly after i had my twins, babies three and four. The father couldn't make his mind up if he was going to stay or go. He was never really with us - always lost in his own thoughts. I knew I would not let my children repeat 'without choice' the same hardships I endured. I would support them through their school, stick to them like a prairie wood tick until they were adults on their own. The toughest times being highschool. They struggled and put up with my strict expectations - 'avoid the alcohol and drug scene atleast until you pass your teens'. Two have made it through their teens with a bit of life bruising from funerals of young friends and understanding of consequence. I kept a job for short periods of time, but always left to put family fires out. I had no outside support from family or friends. They believed I was just wasting my time, just send them out there and let them learn. This is half true. The other part of the story is if you don't give them the support and tools to deal with the decisions today they are easily pulled into situations. I figured well if they choose that live they choose it. But until they are on their own I am going to be here to give them the knowledge o f a life worth fighting for, a choice. When they are on their own they cannot use the excuse "i didn't know".
My daughter asked me after a day of school, 'mom are we poor?' Ofcourse I gave her the version that basically says 'as long as we have each other we are the richest and luckiest people in the world'. I believe this to be true but this only survives for so long. If I don't find a way out. another generation will be looking for answers that I couldn't figure out. Starvation.
Well so far I have been ranting.
Reality:
1.Money in pocket - $0
2.What we had for supper:
~Creative Casserole (Basically put anything left in the fridge or cupboard onto a plate with some baked biscuits made of flour/baking powder/water.
Baked Biscuits
Bacon
Five Sausages
Water
It's amazing how children and teenagers can sit with you and enjoy a meal like this. My son came home with a bottle of pop and shared it three ways. My daughter is getting an academic award. We are getting the vehicle fixed tomorrow, flat tire slashed by some back alley rats and unregistered without insurance. Dimes, nickels and loads of pennies in a backpack to take to the bank for my daughter. It is her end of the school year dinner with friends. No new clothes for two years but we did splurge with forty dollars at the second hand store. Name brands too. Nothing wrong with that. We just have to make it out of this whole poverty reality thing.
Which brings me to the purpose of this blog 'stepping outa this reality'.
This is my first post. I hope to write more tonite. I am putting together a plan. Just a step at a time. If anyone happens by this corner of the web world leave me a comment or offer ideas to help me and my family step outa poverty.
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