We Are Many

I keep trying to make a life for myself in the Santa Barbara School SYSTEM and it doesn't seem to happen. And maybe it is not supposed to. I acted all tough about not getting that most recent job, but honestly, it killed me.  Whaaat? MORE rejection? SIGH.

A small and insignificant moment on the bridge except for this: I was there. That has to matter. And you were with me, right?

Under the glorious full moon. and 64 degrees. I do not have much time left with you, and I want to thank you all for reading my posts. I find blog such an inelegant word. Blog. A bullfrog. A blog. Ribbbeeettt!!!! OK. Tonight I want to tell you a story. It's a pretty good one and I promise to wander a bit, make a point or two, and pretend to be very, very wise. First, some randoms: I did not like high school when I was there, walking the halls these days? I still feel uncomfortable and not at home. Especially after I did not get hired AGAIN. It is easy to eat a plant based diet. Just do it. It is easy to have compassion for animals inhumanely raised and killed simply to put calories on your frame. Just do it. The upcoming political debates will be must watch I think. Cupcakes will never go out of fashion. People on reality shows have tremendous egos. I love my black Levis button fly jeans. I mean I love them. I really miss the company of my beloved son in NY. Just hearing his voice makes me happy. I can't wait to see my daughter's new painting. T-shirts are not couture. City water is very expensive. I made potato and carrot curry with coconut milk for 2 people for three days (it just gets better) ORGANIC for $3.15. My youngest child is THE BEST roommate company when he is here. All right. My brain has emptied a bit. Someone I used to know wrote me about another someone I used to know and SADLY this person is down on their luck. See how I just put that? It's because IT IS TRUE. People can live precious, perfect, honest, humble lives and then the shit hits the fan, friends and family and pets die, money runs out, barns burn down, and even in the face of ACCIDENTS, ILLNESS, AND BAD LUCK-which happen to all of us--we can turn away. We must, I guess, because the suffering of the world is so immense. There is just too much agony. For every plant based something I eat, there is someone else firing up the barbecue and throwing down a slab of Wilbur without a second thought. A friend told me that a veterinarian who was training future vets in her class said that he believed that animals had no souls and that they did NOT FEEL PAIN. Souls or not, pain or not, if we--you or me--or you and I--US--if we feel strongly about SOMETHING, ANYTHING--shouldn't we speak up? Shouldn't we be militant? Isn't that how CHANGE HAPPENS? I want to help this friend. I have EXACTLY October rent in the bank. November? Ahhhh. How to help, how to help? OK. Here is my story. I promise. A couple of years ago I was padding down to the Borders which was a mere two blocks down the street from me hoping to spend an hour or so saying hi! to a few people maybe, getting some good ideas from the magazines, checking out a couple of titles and WOW--on this sleepy early morning there were half a dozen (believe me, this sounds like one of my dreams but I am NOT making it up!!) totally HOT and BUILT black guys standing outside with headsets on!! GEEZ LOUISE I said and was immediately escorted to the door and asked if I would like to be part of a small audience for OPRAH!!!! Gulp I said in reply and ventured a look down at my panda pajama bottoms hoping that they looked stylish and wondering if I had even bothered to glance in the mirror but NO MATTER because the focus was so not on me!!! Oh heavens!! Planet Oprah hit the stage and upended a mother with her severely physically challenged son who was speaking about the book he had written and ALL EYES WERE ON OPRAH. We watched, BREATHLESSLY, while her assistant took the wrapper off her straw before handing her the bottle of water. We listened, like devotees to a major goddess as she interviewed the mother and son CONSTANTLY referring to HER books and HER book club and even HER magazine. But not one of us cared, because we were in the presence of GREAT WEALTH AND POWER AND INFLUENCE, and good gawd it was heady stuff. The mother and son left. Oprah as Goddess continued on and came to the part in her speech where she graciously agreed to entertain questions from us, the masses.  Huddled and pajamed and rightfully IN AWE (and waiting for our free gift cars no doubt). The questions were somewhat pedestrian except for the last one and this man was handsome and close to my age-NO, I am not going there, hold your horses, and he SO ELOQUENTLY and BEAUTIFULLY and SINCERELY, with all his heart asked Oprah HOW? How do you get to where you are? How does one find a dream? How does one find a passion worthy of pursuit? It was obvious to all of us that this man had struggled mightily in his life and was now of a certain age and needing to know what was next? How to find the path -- HIS path? It was a fabulous, many voiced question, and it hung there--like the brazillion dollar prize and we waited, scarcely daring to breathe for the SECRET OF SUCCESS, the clue to our deliverance, words of wisdom from a woman who started with almost nothing and ended up owning half the world. And what did she say? She said that: Once she was JUST LIKE US, that once upon a time SHE WAS JUST LIKE US--but NOW she had ascended because she dreamed and planned and worked really really really hard and kept fighting. And that he could do that too so that someday he could be LIKE HER and NOT LIKE HIM. The man was visibly crushed. We all felt robbed. I got up off the dingy carpet and started home and a tiny darling little old woman took my arm and whispered to me: "Shame on Oprah. Don't you feel bad after listening to her? Do you know why? Because she didn't have the humility to explain and acknowledge all of the people who helped her all along the way. Without them, her success would not have been possible." I have thought about that little old woman many times since that morning. When I was almost homeless, and sadly, this time of year I am just on the barely plus side of that status again, I paid careful attention to the many, MANY ways my friends helped me. My children checked in daily to make sure that I was still on the planet. A friend with not much more money than me stuck a twenty in my back pocket. A man at Catholic Charities helped pay my utilities for one month and let me get food. And miracle of all miracles-a woman I knew from just a recent experience sent me and my son almost AN ENTIRE MONTH'S RENT. She is the only reason we kept our place! Unbelievable. I still take the envelope that the check came in out from time to time and look at it for a reminder. And most recently, I have posted about the MOST EXCELLENT groceries and support I received from my friends the boat people. And I get such GREAT HAPPINESS from all of the responses to my writing. THANK YOU SO MUCH. Because it struck me SO HARD as I rode my bike home across the big bridge under a setting sun and a full rising moon that sharing my life with people who are kind and caring is what makes joy and all good things possible.  Because of the love and support of my little family of children and doggies, and the love and support of my friends, the madness stays at bay and a clear path opens up through the sorrow. I don't know how else we will make it through to the rest of our so called lives without each other. It seems simple, really, we just have to see ourselves reflected in all beings, in all life, in every moment. And that's what I have to say today-the only September 28th, 2012 we will ever get. Love always!!!