Let the sun shine in

This morning she sat up, but wasn't real clear. Her words were slurred. She spent a lot of time texting. Tonight she was dressed, much more alert, but still nauseous and achy. Her lower back was hurting. Kidneys. She apparently really took a lot of pills. It wasn't a suicidal gesture, she said she's taken a lot more in the past, just needed to check out for a minute.

Today her "husband" called emergency, a cop and an ambulance came. She was cognizant enough to make them go away. I guess that was an hour before I came back from work. She had had a cup of tea, and drank most of a lemonade before she started to doze and I left.

We talked about the father of her youngest child. We talked about where she could look for a job. She's kind of fixed on the father sending money. He hasn't been in his son's life, he has two other kids with his wife in New York. She talked about lonely christmas's with no presents for her kids, about restuarant owners and managers not liking her color or her face, about a birthday party where she worked once where there were 10 people celebrating, and how she didn't think 10 people would come to a party for her.

I'm really glad she talked. I have had some experience with depression, and I know one way out is to fight. To move, talk, be active, and keep doing it until you finally notice that you felt some happiness for a second. Once that happens, you know how you are supposed to feel, and it is easier to stay out of that hole.

I don't know what she needs to do. I told her I would help with rent, but if she stays, she has to find a job. I can't afford her rent, and no one else is going to pay it. I don't know what will happen, or what is best for her. I do know she is my friend, she is like family right now, and I will help however I can. I know something now about being responsible for myself. About dealing with the consequences of my decisions. Not that I didn't do that before I came here, but since I've come back I've learned that I am taken care of. Sometimes that care comes from people you love, sometimes it comes straight from god.

This is my friend who gave me $100, totally unsolicited, when I was unemployed and waiting to start a new job. She hadn't been working for a month, and she gave me this money. Between that, some money my mom sent (which, by the way, she didn't have either), and a fantastic care package from my brother, I made it through my tough spot, and could afford dinner for my friend's children last night. The people who helped me the most were the ones who could afford it the least. Their hearts moved them to help me. And because they did, I have an opportunity to do the same.

My friend is a mess right now. And it is my clear intention to find her in the jungle of her depression and substance abuse, hold her hand, and help her find her own way out. My heart moves me.

I can't change anyone. Not my friend, not my dad, not my family. What I try to focus on is doing my best to follow my higher power, and not my self. No one needs to change to make me happy. God's will is perfect, god's love is sufficient. When I get angry or stressed, bad things happen. I lose money; whether it is by losing my keys, making mistakes on checks, or dropping envelopes with money orders in them, when I get upset things go wrong. When I accept and adapt, I overcome, and things go well. When I allow people in my world to be who they are with all their imperfections, beautiful things happen. Now if I can do this with my dad, I will probably die because there will be nothing left for me to learn.

And the other thing is that I don't have to justify myself to anyone. The last four months have made it so much easier to see the beauty of how spirit moves. I still don't claim to be a guru, or enlightened, or anywhere close, but I do see that things don't bother me so much anymore. I don't want much. I hold my friend in my thoughts, and I pray that I can help, but I don't define what that means. It is much better to be myself and observe how things change. I let god manage my life much more now, I learned a long time ago that I'm not qualified for that job. And for sure, no one else is.

So, if you prayed for my friend, thank you. It seems to have helped.

Nude personal photos?

How did I manage to get that link, and how can I get more like it? :)

Please pray for my friend

Ok, first I have to say that if something bigger than me is speeding towards me, like a car, I don't walk in front of it... if I buy a coffee, I am cautious with the first sip... if there is a hole in the sidewalk, I am smart enough to walk around it. Americans kill me with their overabundance of caution, and what logically comes next, their legislation of morality. We treat our populace like a bunch of children, and we are surprised when they act that way... and pissed when they don't. I really can't wait to leave this country. On the other hand, without exception, travelers from other countries remark on how helpful Americans are. How did I get here, and what am I supposed to do?

I'm only writing because I really need to. My friend has lost it. Sunday night she screamed for a couple hours and broke I don't know how many plates. I checked in, only to find her "husband" trying to calm her down, and her youngest son trying to get her to be herself. I left, and didn't intrude for two days. This morning, as I was about to leave for work, she walked out to my truck, wearing only a sheet, to get her puppy. She told me that Sunday night she had taken too many OTC sleep aids, and didn't wake up until then. I went to work after I put her puppy inside for her.

Tonight the apartment was still dark. I knocked, and talked to her sons for a minute. They told me she was still sleeping, and hadn't eaten since Sunday. They agreed to let me buy us all some chinese take-out. My friend sat up long enough to take about four sips of sprite, then was out again for the hour or so that I was there. We ate. Her youngest said he had indeed gone to school. I made sure the puppy ate, and gave him lots of love. Poor guy, I don't think he ate for three days either. Last time I saw him he was puppy fat. Tonight, I could see his ribs. Almost made me cry.

Anyway, I can't blame my friend for losing it. I don't know if I could handle the pressure of having two sons, who've been taken away from me once before, being unemployed, in a foriegn country, with no real friends (except one homeless guy), owing two months rent, and not having enough money to buy three tickets to go home to a place that was full of very bad things the last time I was there, so I don't really even want to go, but if not, how will it feel for me and my two children to live on the street? And I can't get a job because I don't have permission to work, and the only places that will let me work off the books won't hire me because I'm not white or black?

So I can hear voices... some say maybe she needs to lose her kids and her apartment again, maybe she needs to be homeless so she can finally accept the consequences of her decisions... also, maybe I need to help her so I don't lose my cush parking spot... maybe I can be her knight in shining armour... maybe I should get away from this person who is so clearly disturbed...

And do you know what I feel? Calmness and concern. Because I have been there. I know how it feels to prefer to check out rather than suffer the stress of what I have created. But it isn't just what I have created. I mean, yeah, ultimately I create or allow just about everything in my life. But there is also chance. And that is god's pervue. Sometimes, the breaks fall wrong. In her case, she has been blatantly discriminated against, and she is too proud to accept, adapt, and overcome. She doesn't accept that people can be really ugly. She thinks accepting that means she is ugly. Or something like that. She doesn't walk away from bigots, she keeps comming back, ignoring their biggotry. You have to admire that a little, right?

But it has gotten her into a self-imposed coma. But she is out of drugs. I really wish now that I had picked up some weed for her, it would make this a little easier. I guess god will provide what she needs. She has me until noon tomorrow, then I go to work. She has egg drop soup, a sprite, and an egg roll when she wakes up tonight in the middle of the night. I hope she consumes them all and goes back to sleep. Your body needs nourishment and rest after you screw it up with drugs.

And I hope she will hear me when I tell her that I've been in similar spots. And I hope god will speak through me and give her something to hold on to in this life. Some hope.

This woman took me in and gave me a home. I owe her. More than that though, god brought me to this situation. I feel so different now than I did before. I have no desire to use drugs, and I feel very little need for myself. I mean I do get fearful sometimes, but I survived basic training, and I've survived being homeless for four months. And I actually think I have gained three or four pounds. OMG, I'm getting fat again! Just kidding. But I am comfortable, and I don't think I get to be comfortable for very long anymore. I think I have surrendered my life to god, and he takes that seriously. Don't think I have to worry about getting fat. if you are fat, you are thinking about yourself too much. That isn't a put down, it is a suggestion. You don't need as much as you think you do. Get involved with one or two people around you who you don't want to help, and you will be surprised what you learn.

But I digress... my friend is in a coma. I hope she comes out tomorrow, and that I know what to say to her when she does.

I guess that's about all I have to say. I am grateful that my self isn't intruding in my life too much anymore. Only this nagging irritation with my father. Well, what can I do? He is what he is, I am what I am. I guess I should keep trying to accept him, even though he will never accept me. Or maybe I need to try to accept that I will never be accepted by him.. or truly by his family either. Ok, that I think I can deal with. I can still love them even though they will never get me. I just hope karine can get me. God help me please.

Whatever...

Life is difficult. The Indians call it dukhi, pervasive unhappiness. On a personal level, my hemmorhoids bother me all the time, my phone's battery can't hold a charge, I can't see anything without my reading glasses... I'm sure you can make your own list.

Everyone I know has stuff they are dealing with. I know because they all have their own craziness. One waitress sings too loud, off key, for the entire time we are setting up the restuarant. Another comes to work hungover and talks nonstop about sex and g-spots, and whether she is lesbian or not. The manager is addicted to Italian soccer. The bartender is anal. If you have ever worked in a restuarant, you know what I mean...

We all have our own shit to live through. Actually, we all create our own shit. You choose your problems. It is true.

And there is also a pervasive goodness. I don't know the Indian word for it... surely there must be one. Each of these crazy people has a spirit... an inate goodness that is clear and easy to see. That is the person I look for. Some people won't talk to you from their good spot. Some will. As a rule, pretty much, I only talk to people's good spot. If you come to me as a crazy person, I will agree with you. That's the best way I have found to deflect craziness. But then I will avoid you until you find your good spot.

And there is so much Good. Life is full of dukhi, and full of Good. Which would you rather attend to? It is a choice.

I am basically homeless. I have a friend who let's me stay in her parking spot, make coffee in her apartment in the morning, and shower pretty frequently. I consider myself blessed. I don't want anything I don't have. Desire is the root of unhappiness. I could focus on what I don't have, but what you feed will grow, so I focus on the fact that I really have everything I need.

In about a week I am going to spend five days with people who have a home. These people love me, but they don't understand what I am doing. They don't understand my choices, or my lifestyle. I am going so I can see my grandmother. Grandma Ginnie. She is a witch and a saint. She makes the wives of all Kilburn men cry, and she keeps the family together. I really hope it is not true, but this may be the last time I see her.

I love my family, and they don't understand me. I should say that I love my paternal family, and they don't understand me. My maternal family definitely gets it. Go figure. Did you ever notice that the people who have the least money are the best tippers?

My battery needs to be replaced, that's the primary reason I haven't posted lately. I'm also pissed off at my father still, and really don't want him to know how I'm doing. So if you read this, I still cast shame on you. I will get a new battery in a couple days.

I don't think I have anything else to say. I just wanted to communicate that I am still grateful. God is taking care of me, and my life is still hard, just like yours. Be well, be happy, listen to reggae when you can, and make love be in the space you occupy. What else are you here for?

Clear skies, cool salty breezes, and a very nice splif for you and me. What else do you need?

Leach is to Cotton as....

Well, there are a few minor frustrations in my life now, so I am happy. I have been homeless, living in my truck in Miami Beach, mostly by choice, but even if I chose to have a roof, I don't have enough money yet, for over three months, and my biggest concerns are my lost keys and my malfunctioning phone.

My keys dropped out of a hole in my pocket about a week and a half ago. I know where I was walking and have retraced my steps probably 10 times now, not including just looking whenever I am on any part of that route. It will only cost about $150 to get a new key made, but I have bills to pay, and I don't really need to drive anywhere. My biggest concern about that is killing my battery before I get a replacement key. So I crawl through the back window whenever I can instead of opening the door and turning on the dome light.

My phone started to freak out last night. Through much experimentation, I have discovered that there seems to be a short in the flip mechanism that opens up the keyboard. It works open, if I try to view the screen closed though, I get a blank screen. My battery is also not charging properly or holding a charge. The phone is almost two years old, and it has survived over three months in a homeless environment pretty well, considering that it is really a miniature computer. My contract ends in february. There is a new generation now, and I think my next phone needs to be able to use satelites... for when I'm sailing in the Carribean next year and want to stay in touch....

I am concerned about my closest friend here. She still hasn't found a job, and if nothing happens she will have to give up her apartment in less than three weeks. She is scared, and I admire her courage. I want to pray for her to find a good job, but maybe she is supposed to be somewhere else. So I pray that god's will be done, and that I be shown how I can help. I do what I can to be a good friend.

Same at work. There is no drama, just a bunch of people living. I'm just being the best waiter and bartender I can be, and helping where I can. And I am so thankful to not just have a job, but a really good job that I love and understand (lynrd skynrd referrence...)

I have a great friend in Newnan named Kelly Leach-Cotton. She thought I was going to talk about her in my last post (cotton in my ears), so I have to say a word here. Her blog is the one I follow, waiting for tips, though I don't read it as much as I would like - limited battery life. Anyway, she has a great outlook on life, and is very fun to read, so check it out. If you want to come to SoBe Kelly, I can probably get you a job. You just have to try carpaccio :)

On the way to work this morning, it occured to me that I am 47 years old, and I still haven't grown up. I am living in neverneverland, and I am happy. I am not afraid to die, and when I eventually do, I will feel as though I have lived well. The only thing I am afraid of is getting old, and as long as I don't let that happen, everything will be ok. I may look old, I may act old... if going to bed early and not chasing women all the time is acting old, but I will pretty much always laugh at a good joke, share joy with dogs and babies, and smoke pot when I feel like it.

The winter weather pattern has started, hurricaine season is over. We get a cold spell after the wind shifts around the compass from East to North for two to four days, then it warms up again. I am wearing shorts and a thermal top in November, and I am about to go to the beach to commune with the ocean. Everything contains the seed of it's opposite. God is either everything or nothing. And love is all there is.

Clear skys and cool salty breezes!

Cotton in my ears

Thank goodness for modern technology. I forgot about the end of daylight savings time until I was walking home after work and noticed it seemed darker than usual. My phone automatically fell back last night and got me to work on time. No one mentioned it all day, and I wonder if anyone else even noticed.

It got cold here very suddenly. Literally from one day to the next. The low Wednesday was around 72, Thursday it was around 52. Crazy. Fortunately, I have my magic blanket and a sleeping bag that my brother sent in his care package, and I have been toasty. I only have one warm shirt though (which he also sent), the rest of my warm clothes are still in storage in Newnan. The job I have now is the one I expected to have no more than a month after I got here.

But as I write, sitting in the bed of my pick-up, I am sitting on my magic blanket, leaning back against my rolled up sleeping bag, and wrapped in my fleece sheet that I haven't used since Wednesday. And I find I am a little glad to be a little uncomfortable. It seems to reassure me to find comfort in the face of adversity. If there is no adversity, I start getting nervous, wondering what's going to happen next.

My job is good. The food is as good or better than the place I worked in Newnan, and that place impressed me. But here, the menu can be more cosmopolitan, and it is owned by a guy who owns four other restuarants. So the place is set up to run well, and it is managed by a manager, not the owner. Makes life much less stressful. Seriously, I feel like I am in restuarant heaven now. I survived restuarant hell, and I guess the restuarant gods decided to smile on me. Thank you reastuarant gods.

I still have the cotton in my ears- that feeling of serenity, most of the time, that somehow allows me to not be bothered by most of the stuff that used to bother me. It's all still here; the self-centered waitresses, the people who stand and talk in doorways, the vampires who want to live by taking my vital essence. It just doesn't trigger me much anymore, or not for very long. No, what I worry about is that my incredibly blessed, comfortable, and joyful life will somehow come to an end.

And sometimes I worry that it will never end; that I will never get the boat, and will always live in my truck. Isn't that funny?

I haven't had as much to say lately. I wonder if it because I am getting comfortable, and don't have so much to deal with, or because I am changing. Maybe it's both. I haven't had a lot of time to take pictures, and now I hate posting without atleast one. That's a good excuse.. :)

Thanksgiving is only a couple weeks away, and I am going to visit family. I will actually sleep in a bed, under a roof, and eat good food and be around "normal" people for like five days. That's gonna be weird. I'm really looking forward to it.

After only a week, I am close to being caught up on my bills again... uh-oh.

Reggae tomorrow night, but not until 5 am, I have to work in the morning. Thank you god.

Food is love, right?

I want my kitchen back. I am becoming a little too civilized, I think. I am getting spoiled by having a dry air mattress to sleep on, undisturbed by mosquitos, showers in a bathroom two or three times a week, and enough privacy that it feels like I have my own bedroom.

I have a great job in a very cool restuarant, in the most popular area of south beach. I think I will make enough to pay my bills starting now, and enough to buy a boat before too long.

I had the day off today. I did laundry, read a mystery novel I checked out from the library, and went to scout out locations for a boat. Actually the boat location was easy; just a protected spot to drop a couple hooks. I found a place where atleast one person living aboard was anchored. What I was really looking for was a place to dock a dinghy, and chain a bicycle. And I found a couple spots where inflatables had been tied, and chained, off. There was a bicycle secured near one of the spots too. Voila.

Today I thought about how to improve my diet. Not easy with no kitchen, and limited resources. See, I can cook, pretty well in fact, and cheap too. When I had a kitchen, I spent an average of $3-5 for a dinner, less than $10 per day, and I ate very good, tasty, healthy food. With no kitchen, I can eat healthy for $2, but it isn't very tasty; a cold can of tuna, another of black beans, and a banana. Hot food costs atleast $5.25. Best I've found so far is Boston Market, but it's far away, and it bugs me to spend that much. So in my twisted logic, I walk five blocks and buy subway for $9. Doesn't make much sense when I write it down. I wasn't drinking either, I just have a disconnect at the moment between my logic and my stomach. I'll work it out.

I have been living in my truck now for over three months. I have been aquiring knowledge and skills that will help me be comfortable when I finally get to liveaboard. Now I have a job that may bring enough money to buy a boat. I haven't even begun to save though, so this is going to take some patience.

I am really ready for a little stability.