Sunday, August 26, 2018

The Valley of My Own Shadow

This song is one of the most beautiful pieces of music I've heard lately. A teacher played it during a yoga class this week and I just loved the beat and the singer's beautiful voice. After class I asked what the song was and immediately played it again in my car. Later, I Googled the lyrics; just perfect. If you choose to listen I suggest not reading the lyrics just yet, simply listen with your ears and your heart. Then come back and read the lyrics. My thoughts follow at the bottom.






LYRICS:

Creating concrete visions of a macroscopic prism with a brilliant optimism and appropriate ambition to be open from the center redirected to the moment this is it love this is it love- unrestrainable nature - we can change it from the edges - we can challenge all our borders - there is always a new leader there is always a new order - our pathway is proceeding and the way is always changing - we are free from what prevents us to realize our destination free from all old stories I've been told- I walk through the valley of my own shadow free from all old stories I've been told- I walk through the valley of my own shadow Awareness is my virtue and I'm grateful for the search to dive deep within my own mind and to trust the intuition of the lives I've lived before this- our essential form of gnosis its a simple form of freedom its as smooth as inhalation oh the exhale is releasing all the tension I've been feeling on the surface and beneath me I'm connecting to my spirit and I'm here now right before you I am present in this moment and my life's work is to honor the great beauty all around youfree from all old stories I've been told- I walk through the valley of my own shadow free from all old stories I've been told- I walk through the valley of my own shadow. Creating concrete visions of a macrocosmic prism with a brilliant optimism and appropriate ambition / to be open from the center, redirected to the moment this is it love, this is it love, this is it love...

Damn that's so beautiful...To me it speaks of letting go, to listening to the truth of who we are as human beings in a world that is typically more full of questions, self doubt, fear, and pain than it is of answers, love, joy, and freedom. Or maybe that's just my self narrative, I don't know, I'm just one human and I've only had my own experience, but I do think we're all more alike than different. We all live in the shadows of our choices, but they key in this whole equation is walking forward with faith in the path we're on. We've all lived many lives and played different roles

I've been
the Soldier
the leader
the follower
the student, the teacher
the husband
the father, the son, and now grandfather
the lonely, wandering human
the heartbroken man
the hopeful dreamer
the aspiring yogi
Each one of those roles, those lifetimes, has led me to where I am, which quite frankly is that point in life where I've got more time under my belt than ahead of me. I still truly feel the best is yet to come. That said, sometimes I'm overwhelmed with trying to figure everything out, a feeling I'm sure you all can relate to. The most truth I've found is the more I allow things to unfold, to simply let go, the more things just seem to work out. I've been feeling quite alone in my new home and I think that's the lesson I'm supposed to learn right now. With that solitude I've been working on leaning into discomfort. Just BEING. The weight seems to get a bit lighter when I lighten up on myself and what I think I'm "supposed" to do or be.
This song also tells us to be focus on the present moment, in which we always have the opportunity to make the choices that best serve our path. We have all experienced and lived with pain, but we don't need to carry around our pain suitcase everywhere we go. Our healing and freedom is truly our own choice.
The beauty of our lives is we all get to be our own storyteller. Here's to whatever chapter comes next...

Provided by Indmusic Gajumaru · Yaima Peullucidity ℗ 2016

Sunday, February 4, 2018

Persistency & the People We Meet

Thanksgiving 2017
I met Chris last year in Norfolk at 80/20 Burger Bar where he’d come in to get out of the cold, drink a Coca Cola, and watch football games. Chris was born and raised here in Norfolk,Virginia and loves the Redskins, like REALLY loves them. And while I’m not a huge sports fanatic, I’ve always been a football fan. I played football at the age of 12 and continued playing through high school. There’s also some nostalgia from watching games on Sunday afternoons with my Dad; him in his La-Z Boy, me on the sofa with a blanket. So Chris and I had a connection, we talked about the teams, the games, playoff possibilities, etc. The first time we hung out I learned Chris was homeless, he slept wrapped up in blankets in the bushes not a ¼ mile away from where we were sitting…warm and dry at the bar.
Chris is a happy and polite man who often cracks jokes, and always asks me how I’m doing. He’s a really warm and outgoing individual. One of the most interesting things about Chris is his knowledge of Astrology. He knows interesting details about every sign, including the dates they begin and end, who each sign is compatible and incompatible with, character traits, etc. It’s always fun to hear him talk with people and ask them about their birthday. Chris doesn’t drink, doesn’t use drugs, always says thank you, gives hugs, doesn’t beg for anything. As time went by we started talking more about his situation. He really wants to get off the street, get a job, find a place to live, take care of his needs…you know, stuff most of us take for granted.
One of the reasons he hasn’t been able to get a job is because he doesn’t have an Identification Card (ID). He couldn’t stay at the homeless shelter without an ID, and the shelters are where a lot of the services homeless folks can tap into are located. They can help with employment, housing, etc. When I met him he didn’t have a birth certificate, Social Security card, or any documentation to prove who he was. So besides giving him some pocket money for something to eat I saw this as an opportunity to help him start to get on his feet. That was it, we had to get his Virginia ID. This story seeks to convey how extremely difficult this process can be, especially for someone without means to provide the required documentation and travel all over the place on foot.
We scheduled a time that week to meet up so I could accompany him to the Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV), an easy 15 minute drive across town, but it would have taken him hours by foot and bus. It didn’t look good from the beginning, as Virginia requires two forms of ID to get an ID, and without even so much as a birth certificate there wasn’t much we could do, but we had to start somewhere. In order to get a birth certificate you have to have an ID and vice versa, a total catch 22. The people at the DMV were nice and all, but they really couldn’t do anything to help Chris. They handed him a piece of paper with the required documents he needed. Check it out Here.  It’s a huge laundry list of items, none of which he had. The only way he could get a copy of his birth certificate was is if his Mother requested it, and Chris hasn’t really been on great speaking terms with his Mom. I don’t pepper him with questions about the situation. To make things more challenging, without a physical address he was pretty much screwed. He doesn’t have a bank account, a residence, passport....nada. The only thing there was a possibility of obtaining was a copy of his high school transcripts, which were were able to get by driving to his old high school in Chesapeake, another several hour walk/bus ride ordeal had we not had a car. Chris hadn’t been there in 20 years, and while we were there he ran into one of his old teachers. Chris lit up and gave her a hug, it was an emotional thing to witness. So yeah, we finally had one document from the list, but still no means of proving his physical address. I couldn’t simply let him use my address because his name isn’t on my lease, and those bushes where he sleeps don’t have mailboxes attached to them.
Weeks go by and Chris was finally able to get a copy of his birth certificate thanks to his Mother after I’d left several phone messages for her. So we now had the proof of identification documents required, but still no way to prove physical address. Since this all began back in November, it’s almost February now, we’ve been to the DMV four times, his high school, and to Social Services. On the third DMV trip I pleaded with the manager to make an exception because he really couldn’t prove his address. She agreed to use his childhood address and my PO Box as a secondary mailing address.
From here it gets even more complicated. Several years ago Chris’s identity was compromised when another man used Chris’s name to get a Virginia ID. I’m not sure how that happened, but it did. The DMV wouldn’t issue Chris a new ID until his record was clear. DMV investigators now had to get involved. The following week I received a phone call from a DMV Special Agent asking about the situation. He said he needed to speak with Chris to get info on who the identity thief was; Chris knew who the dude was. I had no way to contact Chris because he doesn’t own a cell phone, which obviously has made this whole situation more complicated. It was a waiting game from then on, just like most of this has been. When I have a goal I like to do whatever it takes to get it done, but in this case I had to wait to run into Chris in my neighborhood. He often hung out at a nearby 24 hour I-HOP so I’d go there frequently to ask Lisa, the General Manager and super nice person, if she’d seen him around. I finally ran into Chris while eating at the Grilled Cheese bistro in downtown Norfolk. Thank god for those window seats or I’d never have seen him walking down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. We called up the special agent and Chris provided all the info he needed. Within a few days his record was cleared and we were good to go for finally getting his ID. Fourth time to the DMV and success! Almost…
January 31, 2018
The DMV sent his ID to my PO Box, but since Chris’s name wasn’t on my box the post office returned it to Richmond. Chris had to call Richmond in order to request they resend it. I added him to my PO Box so it wouldn’t get sent back again. Weeks go by as I wait to run into Chris so we could call Richmond. Last week we finally got it all sorted out and today, three months after this whole thing started, Chris finally got his ID!!!
This whole ordeal had really made me think about how difficult it is for our less fortunate neighbors to accomplish even the smallest tasks we take for granted, and in this case would have been impossible except for the DMV manager who let Chris slide on using my PO Box for a mailing address. I mean, shit, everyone hates going to the DMV, but I’ll never complain again about having to wait at the DMV for two hours to renew something.

We celebrated with some KFC, Chris's favorite, and a fresh new haircut. It'd been a year since he got a nice trim and man does he look great! Thanks to the kick ass folks at Lionshead Barbershop in Ocean View. Of course he talked with the barber about football for 20 minutes, then the discussion changed to favorite rappers. Chris brought up Lil' Wayne and the barber said, "Man, the last time he was on top was when he had the top bunk in prison." Everyone in the place was laughing pretty good.

Now it's time to get this man a place to live and a job!!!
Before and after with a new man!

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

Snail Mail and the Lost Art of Waiting

When I was a kid growing up in California there was no such thing as email, there was no AOL, and thankfully no “lol”. Side note, I have a thing against lol. Like did they actually just laugh out loud at that? Maybe they did, but I’m skeptical…
There was no Facebook, no Messenger, no Twitter, no Instagram, no text messages, and I’m thankful there was no Snapchat.  If we wanted to get in touch with someone we had three options. 1) Go visit them, 2) call them on the house or pay phone, or 3) write them a letter. I guess telegram could have been an option, but those were “so 1800’s” by that time.
Last night I reminisced to those days as I walked past my local post office and recalled the feelings evoked by opening the mailbox and seeing a handwritten card or letter addressed to me from someone. The USPS mail delivery person was always a treat to see at your house. A personal example I'll share is when 57 letters arrived in the mail with orders for “How to Survive When Mom’s Away, a kids’ cookbook I thought of making when I was 13 years old and needed to earn money to go to the Boy Scout National Jamboree in 1981. That mailbox was full from something that started as an idea that quickly gained regional and even national attention thanks to the Associated Press. We sold 2,000 of those books at $2 a pop which was enough to pay for the trip and the adventure of this 13 year old boy’s lifetime.
Today when I go to the mailbox it’s typically flooded with loads of junk mail - weekly shopping flyers, clothing catalogs, mortgage refinance deals, and credit card offers, all which go directly in the recycle bin. And to make things worse, email far exceeds the junk mail I physically receive. Let’s not even get started on the spam folder. Are you feeling me yet?
With the invention of such things as email, cell phones, and the various digital leashes we have integrated into our lives to make things easier and faster (Hell, I’m writing this from a Macbook), we’ve also let go of some of the things that keep us connected on an organic level. And while nothing can replace face to face interactions, there’s just something special about hand-written cards, postcards, and notes. Our handwriting is like a fingerprint, and I'd venture to say you have people in your lives that you could tell who wrote something just by their handwriting; It’s a piece of ourselves we let go of when we send an email. Sure, email allows us to craft the perfectly worded reply and get a quick response, sometimes, but there’s something exciting about putting pen to paper and seeing what comes out.  The most valuable lifetime skill class I took in high school was Typing 1 on those old school mechanical typewriters. I loved them and the unique way each one would type different letters differently, which also took into account the keystroke of the typist, a signature if you will. When you wanted to emphasize something you might type over the same word twice with heavy fingers, now it’s the press of Control + B. And while typewriters are cool, Tom Hanks has a huge collection of them and a new book about typewriters he spoke about on NPR. I've heard if you send him a letter written with a typewriter he'll reply via typed letter. How cool is that?! One of the beautiful things about sending a handwritten, enveloped, and stamped card or letter to someone is the waiting that goes on between sending and receipt; the anticipation if you will. Knowing you might make someone’s day when they open the mailbox.
Yoga has helped me connect with myself and others in a way I’d not experienced in my life, and it’s been life changing for me in ways I’m only beginning to discover. The more I practice the more I get back. It’s with this spirit I’m going into 2018 with an effort to send more physical cards, postcards, and letters and I invite you to join with me in this if you feel inspired. My address is PO Box 11201, Norfolk, Virginia 23517. ;)
Now who wants to get this card?