a chance meeting with an angel at the food bank...

an angel at a foodbank? perhaps that's the last place one would imagine such an encounter. i'm not talking about the volunteers. oh sure, they are indeed angels in their own right. i'm talking about one of the visitors. an elderly man, homeless and hungry. and getting very close to needing a wheelchair due to debilitating pain, his best friend at the moment seemingly to be his sturdy cane.

"hello girl, how you doing today?" he asked me. if it hadn't been for his stained and much too small t-shirt and slight body odor, i would have thought he was santa claus. aside from a full beard and round belly, he had a twinkle in his eyes, a joyful, albeit mischevious merriment to him. however, looking deeper, i could see deep pain behind that sparkle. the kind of pain that spoke to me and said this man had seen a lot of heartache in his life. a lot of disappointment. i was tempted to ask him if his life had turned out as he thought, but i instead decided to smile.

"i'm doing ok," i said.

"see this here cane?" he asked me, tapping it on the floor.

"uh huh," i said.

"this cane here is what's keeping me out of a wheelchair." sensing his need to talk, i simply nodded my head, my brows in a frown indicating my growing concern and compassion for this stranger.

"my body was crushed awhile back," he said. "got arthritis all over my body. doc says soon i may be paralyzed. didn't like hearing that one, i tell ya. told the doc so. told him don't tell me i may be paralyzed unless you know for sure." he paused, then added with a smile, that twinkle reappearing for a brief moment, "i tell people straight up what i think and how it is." with that he laughed as did i.

i listened at this man shared with me stories of his life. i watched the sadness in his eyes as he told me the ladies who had left him because of his physical condition. i watched the sadness in his eyes as he talked about his experience being homeless and living in shelters. he is currently living with a friend, not sure what his plans are. this friend is all he has at the moment, the only thing keeping him from being on the streets.

"no way will you get me back in them shelters," he says.

"how come?" i asked.

"when you live with the kind of pain i do, sometimes you gotta do what you can to ease the pain. i smoke the dope at times to make me feel better. they don't like that."

"ah," i said, nodding. i've often thought about that, the rules shelters have. strict rules about no alcohol or drugs. no room for flexibility. meeting this man is example enough that there should be.

he got quiet again. i observed him, watching his eyes look up at the brief moment of sunlight that was streaming in through the window.

"my husband lives with chronic pain," i said, breaking the silence.

"oh yeah?" he asked, his eyes and body language showing sincere interest in wanting to know more.

"the doctor says he has fibromyalgia, which is really just a blanket diagnosis for chronic pain of unknown origin." i said, releasing a deep sigh that surprised me some. i don't often stop and think about my husband's pain and how it affects me. i told him the areas on my husband's body that hurts, how it affects his life. the fatigue he deals with on a daily basis. the numerous doctors he's seen, the blood tests, the scans, etc. etc.

whew. suddenly i wanted to lean on that stick!

"yeah, them doctors sometimes need a kick in the ass, don't they? let them know they aren't god. be nice to hear a doctor say 'i don't know'." he said, rolling his eyes.

"no shit!" i blurted out. he laughed, one of those belly laughs, causing me to think of santa claus again.

"you sticking by him then? being in all that pain?" he asked with a curious look.

i was kind of taken back by the question.

"of course! why in the world would i leave him because he lives with pain?" i said, almost defensively.

i looked at him and i thought he was going to cry. he asked me for a hug. i obliged.

"you're a wonderful girl for saying that. you know how many women have left me because of my physical problems?" he asked, sounding choked up. i just nodded.

it was his turn to pick up his food. he took his place in line. i could overhear him as he talked with the food bank staff. please and thank you and no ma'am and yes ma'am were a regular part of his vocabulary. on more than one occasion, i heard the female volunteers laugh.

after his food box had been put together, he turned to leave, passing me in line once again. i stepped forward to open the door for him. he turned towards me, that twinkle again in his eye.

"thank you sweetheart. i sure enjoyed talking to you," he said.

"me too," i said. "you take good care of yourself."

"i will and you do the same." he hesitated and for a moment there i thought yet once again that he was going to cry. he looked at me and said, "and you make sure and hang in there with your husband."

and with that, he was gone. if only he had known of some of the recent events that had transpired between my husband and myself. for reasons not having to do with his physical pain, my husband and i had been threatening one another with divorce. i'm not sure if our problems are shared by all and we are just more vocal when we are hurt and frustrated. i'm not sure if our threats come from truth or from fear. but i do know i had been asking for angels to come into my life and help me figure out what to do.

when he said those words, "and you make sure you hang in there with your husband," it was as though a little 'ping' went to my heart, to that place where my truth, my wisdom exists. i had received my angel. and he had come in the most unusual of forms, and i had met him in the most unusual of places.

nina

sunday evening.........

.......and all is well. my hub is quietly watching tv........the terminator movie--last one i think.......my sweet little doggie is snuggled up in her bed, glancing up at me now and then......i wonder what she is thinking..........i smile at her........she sighs........cute

at times like this, i stop and think about others for who life isn't as peaceful at the moment......the people of iran......who have seen what our invasion and occupation of iraq has created for the citizens........what must they be thinking? are we next? when? i cannot imagine living that horror........oh sure, after 2001 i had some nightmarish thoughts and fears about another attack.....but that wasn't about an entire nation--a powerful one at that--wanting to invade.......conquer.......of course i have since learned to have an equal concern over our own government as i have over any terrorist group.........

the people of iraq.........is there gunfire in the air right now? how many children are snuggled up in fear against their mother's breast? the soldiers.........how many wish they were home with their own spouse and children..........how many now believe there is no legitimate reason to have gone over there to begin with.........

the people of the phillipines.........family members losing loved ones........friends losing friends........nature is such a beautifully spectacular yet often dangerous entity.......

it's cold outside where i live.........in the 20's..........i think of the homeless...........i think how my husband and i came so very close to joining them last year.....frighteningly close.....ya never know what life will throw at you.......you hope for a billowy fluffy soft fleece pillow........sometimes it's a baseball flying at you at 98mph...........support systems are so necessary..........sadly when those aren't a reality, social services is the next best thing..........lifesavers they can be.........just not as soft and as safe as a loving family is...........

or so i hear.......

and so tonight i think of those who are suffering...........suffering due to violence..........war.......hunger.........cold...........and it really chokes me up...........the tears are right there, knocking on the back of my eyes asking for release..........it could all be so different........so simple the solutions..........so difficult the change of consciousness needed to create the solutions......john lennon was right..........imagine............imagine no religion..........no possessions........imagine no countries...........imagine all the people living life in peace........

his words........powerful..........my words, a struggling attempt to create the same message as he did............love.........respect............imagine looking in the eyes of another.........and seeing yourself.......imagine that..........no more bombs would be dropped...........no more slaps upon innocent children's bodies........no more ugly words would be cast upon one another...........no more low wage jobs......no more greed or control.......no more people without health insurance.....or food.....or clothing....or homes.........an end to suffering.

i think that's something all of us can agree upon would be a wonderful thing.

nina

olympics

watched the opening ceremonies friday night........beautiful images...........local culture......and those mountains........wow.......i loved the peace metaphors.......the olympic games personnel speaking about the need for peace and tolerance.....yoko ono, although her voice is annoying and her speaking pace was off and too stiff, the poem was beautiful........and i did appreciate her very sincere smile she shared for the audience at the end.

i could have done without the war and political comments from bryan williams........dipshit pretty much ruined the whole spirit of the event by making comments about which countries have troops sacrificing for the war effort..........sacrificing for the freedom and democracy........lies lies lies.........not to mention totally inappropriate.........this wasn't the nightly news or some fucking political commentary. this is the olympics. hopefully enough will write so that mr. williams won't be invited back.

i elect elmo to host the next olympic games.

i have a family member who visited italy a few years ago. she said the people were so laid back and friendly. totally different energy than in the states. every afternoon, people filled the outdoor cafes to gather.......drink coffee and eat wonderful desserts........ the us of a needs a new mentality on living......european countries can teach us a few things.........our focus is on working to pay the bills........... i want to shorten the work week to 35 hours max......... 5 weeks of vacation. i saw a report of an american exec who worked for a company with offices in france....... when she arrived, she talked about how difficult it was for her to get used to the shorter hours, the mandatory breaks and vacation......... and yet she said the results were a happier and healthier and much more relaxed woman......... more productive worker. less turnover.

hello corporate america. R U LISTENING??????

nina

Saturday Spewing

http://www.rense.com/general69/lfc.htm there. this ought to be a good read, especially being it's tax season.............ok apparently my return key isn't being recognized by blogger.com, so i'll resort to using a string of periods to separate my thoughts.......today as i put myself together after showering, i thought about the things we girls, we women, do to make ourselves appear pretty and presentable. take undergarments. now i myself rarely wear a bra. i don't do it to make a statement. i don't do it to gather attention. i made this choice because i am simply more comfortable going without one. and i saw a report a good 10 years ago about a study done by an anthropologist. she discovered that countries whose women rarely or do not wear bras have significantly fewer rates of breast cancer. she actually stumbled upon this whole deal by accident. she was staying at some resort and when the cleaning attendant came in to clean her room, she looked at the anthropologists bra hanging on the shower curtain and asked her quite curiously what it was. confused at first, the anthro. then became amused when she realized the maid really didn't know what a bra was. the anthropologist then later found out that the women of this particular island had close to a 0% incidence of breast cancer. and she also found out that even the women who had very large breasts did not experience the back and neck pain that large breasted western women often experience. she discovered that the muscles surrounding the breast offer adaquate support to the breasts..............even in mexico, where pollution is a real problem, there was a very low incidence of breast cancer because most women did not wear bras.......her theory was that bras constrict and do not allow adequate blood flow.....whatever her theory was, all of this was fascinating to me and from that day on, i made the choice to live my life as a bra-less woman.........i am more comfortable........no longer restricted...........free. just as the breasts were meant to be. ok so more on undergarments.............thongs.............who in the hell could ever wear these things?????? i've tried.........honest to god i've tried............i've tried all different types............spoken with lingerie experts...........heard all sorts of comments "you have to find the right type"..........and my favorite "you will get used to the feeling" (LIE)...........torture...........it's simply torture to intentionally place anything in a place in the body that typically cries out "REMOVE OBJECT" when anything accidentally drops in for a visit..........and frankly even though my husband would disagree, i think thongs look disgusting from the rear view no matter how beautiful your butt..........i myself happen to love my round little tushie, but even i know that with a thong on, it looks like my dental floss got lost up my ass.........what we women do...............sigh............i had a conversation with my mother today on the phone..............it was from my dear sweet mother that i got the annoying voices in my head that tell me how IMPORTANT it is to be perfect, pretty, polite and always groomed when going out.............today she was telling me how great i looked when she saw me a couple of weeks ago...........i was having a 'bad' hair day and threw it on top of my head in a makeshift ponytail.............well mom loved it and said it made me look 'younger'..............i am 40 years old..........you don't say that to any woman over the age of 39, daughter or not......and truth be told, i look older with my hair up and younger with it down..........you look 'good' is what she says........not beautiful.........never heard her say that word to me..........i have craved that word from her my entire life........when i first met my husband, i told her how often he tells me i am beautiful, how wonderful it feels to hear that word...............odd that when i tell that to my mother she had nothing to say....just that deadpan silence of hers......is she jealous of me???? is it so difficult for her to tell me i am beautiful????? i tell her she is beautiful and gorgeous and pretty every time i see her--because she really is. but after 40 years, she cannot bring herself to say any of those words to me? i always look "good". that's it. 'good'. growing up she made it a point to tell me at the very vulnerable age of 14 that i wasn't pretty and never would be, but that i was 'cute'...however, my friend standing next to me at the time was pretty.........and could be a model while i never could be........whoever says major life changes do not come in under 30 seconds is a f'ing liar......what little esteem for myself i had at that time was pretty much tossed out the door.....it isn't like she cannot SAY the words--she often says those words when describing friends daughters or other women..............it's probably a control issue........my hair is pretty long and wavy...........i love scrunching it up with some mousse and letting it dry by itself........wild and free............just like my breasts............mom definitely does NOT like this look..........too wild...........too unrestricted.............why, i just might go climb a tree and take off my top, calling out to my husband to make wild passionate love to me............CANNOT HAVE THE DAUGHTER DOING SOMETHING LIKE THAT NOW! : ) honest to god.....frequently i look at my mother and wonder how in the hell i could have come from her.........my innate self, when i am not letting the motherly voices of insecurity and restriction dominate my mind and choices, is passionate..........intense..............wild..........outspoken.........i love my mom............and yet if she were a friend, i'd of walked away years ago..............ok gotta take a moments break to toss down some jelly beans to soothe some pain that's decided to creep in and say 'hi'............back........i am an emotional eater............i know it............i was watching the show starting over and one of the life coaches was talking about the importance of giving up all addictions and vices..........no way.......life is simply too painful for me at times to do that............at least i am AWARE of my vices...i figure i'm doing pretty darn ok.......i'm aware of the choices i make........just know i gotta love myself more than i do...........about the looks thing..........i am recalling a memory when i am in junior high school.............my mom is in her curlers........no make-up...........she is asking me to run into the 7-11 to pick her out some sanitary pads...........the feeling of terror i felt...........i cannot go inside i might see someone i know what if i see john he might think that i am buying these for meeeeeeee, my pre-pubescent mind races..........i remember looking at her, pleading, no mom please i don't want to do that........and i remember she looked right back at me, pissed off in a way only a mother can get.........you march right in there and do as i say i cannot go in the store looking like this don't you care how i feel?! she fires off at me............at that time in my life, yes i did, so i obediently went into the store.......it was a few years later that i stopped caring.........my brother the always logical, always analytical type once said a couple of years ago "you know, growing up, mom and dad didn't care for our emotional needs. all they did was make sure we had a home to live in and food to eat and clothes to wear." BINGO, i thought. he'd finally seen the light. then he blacked out again by saying 'but i am not angry about that.'.......of course he was only partially right............my physical need for a home was never secure in that my dad decided to kick me out when i was 5 for hitting my brother only to order me back in the house after i had walked out the door with my suitcase..........he held that over my head as a possibility if i ever 'was bad' again.........of course i know now it was just a weird ass, sick parenting technique, but my child self believed him and i always lived in fear that if i did something wrong, i'd be tossed out into the street..........and my clothing need was satisfied until i was 12 when my father announced i needed to get a job and buy my own clothes from there on out.....he was serious....it wasn't just one of his usual banters....... so i began babysitting and buying my own clothes.........the truly sick part was he would go off on me in raging fits now and then when he would ask how much money i had and what i had spent it on......seemed that the more stylish type clothing i would choose to buy (with my own money), the angrier he would become..........so in a nutshell i had a mother who taught me how important looks were but that i would never be pretty.............and a father who taught me that if i attempted to make myself fit in and look pretty i would be raged upon...........don't ask me what i was told i was when i wanted to begin going out to boy-girl parties with friends...........let's just say the word begins with the letter 'w'............no wonder the shrink i saw for awhile told me i never knew what to expect as a child and later, as an adult...........am i coming or am i going or am i simply not going anywhere???? dang..................today as mom (who divorced my father over 15 years ago and has since regretted it) was reliving her usual fantasy diatribe about what a wonderful, loving, attentive father my dad was, i began to think, "you and dad owe me over $10,000. money for therapy that if you hadn't sucked so much as parents, i wouldn't have needed to invest in order to learn how to be a healthy, functioning adult member of society. money that was taken away by father to spend on his mid-life mistress, money that was supposed to go for my college education. money that was supposed to help pay for my wedding. money that should have been spent on me to provide me clothing from 12 up............." so many things..................my question remains how does one give themselves those unfulfilled child needs when the relationships you have now are adult-based???? the term "parenting yourself" is stupid. i've done the little exercises. they simply don't fill in those inner holes. new age types like to say the holes are an illusion. maybe at the soul level. the human part of me knows there are holes.............i guess maybe what i read a few weeks ago is indeed true.........during the first 3 years of life if a child doesn't form a loving, totally trusting bond with at least one adult, chances are they never will. no wonder most of us are so fucked up. we're just good at hiding it. we have our vices and addictions. and we have the myriad of ways to dress ourselves up to put on the mask that says "i am ok." the truth is, most of us do not feel "ok". and yet oddly enough, i think we can all be ok with admitting that.

the church that stole my brother's brain

i was lookin' around on google in search of the church that stole my brother's brain. i was able to find their website and spent some time checking it out. at least i was able to clarify why my brother one day turned evangelical on me and made it his mission to save my soul from the depths of hell fire lest i commit my life to jesus christ. AMEN and HALLELUJAH

these folks are like any other radical church goin' christian types. it doesn't matter what kind of a life you live or the good service you provide to the world. you can be mother theresa and still not "get into heaven" (as though there's a physical door with a lock and a line. sigh. i just hope if there is a line it isn't controlled by the dmv folks). actually since these folks don't believe the catholic faith is a true religion but rather a false one, looks like mother t is swimmin' with the devil in their eyes....... back to my point. all ya gots to do to get to heaven? commit in your heart that jesus died for your sins and is your savior and bingo--you found yourself the key to the doors of heaven.

sigh. aint' life grand when you're an evangelical? no wonder pat robertson selected this faith. he can get away with stashing his money in illegal off-shore accounts instead of actually helping the folks his organization claims to. claim christ as your lord and you can be as evil as ya wants and still spend eternity with the big dude in the sky.

maybe i'll convert. hmmmm.......... i can do whatever i want as long as i commit to jesus and all i do will be forgiven. that means i don't have to be nice to anyone anymore. i can flip people off as i drive around town. if i don't like what my local government is doing, i can kick 'em all in the shins at the next council meeting. when my pesky neighbors chirps a "hello", i can spit on her driveway. imagine the fun i could have! i can be royal pain-in-the-ass-mischevious-waskly-wabbit-bitch-on-a-mission and still know i be gettin a first class ticket to heaven cause i has accepted jeeeeeeeeesus christ in my heart.

obviously i am being sarcastic. i'm sure most of these jesus followers really do care about being kind to people. i know my brother does. their hearts are in the right place. it's their brains that seem to have been kidnapped and robbed of any sort of logical and rational thought. it's puzzled me for the longest time why ANY THINKING person could truly believe that one who has lived a loving, giving life of service w/o subscribing to the christian religion has no chance of spending eternity in bliss and that one who has given nothing but believes in jesus will be swimming in it upon death. i asked my brother about this and his answer? "well that's what the bible says."

it so easy to let a book do all of the thinking for you.

it was hard, really hard to come to believe all of this stuff, my brother once told me.

maybe it's because you know in your heart it isn't true, i said.

oh no, it's true, he said.

how do you know? i asked.

because it's in the bible, he answered.

maybe the bible's wrong, i offered.

the bible is truth. the writers were guided by the holy spirit. how can it be wrong? he asked.

maybe what guided them was their own minds, i again offered.

no. it was the holy spirit, he said.

maybe they were smoking something and had a hallucination, i said.

he didn't find that funny.

ok fine, then prove it, i said.

it's in the bible, he said. then quoted me scripture.

sigh. it's a no-win situation. i did ask him why god is referred to as the father. he have a penis? i asked. of course not, my brother said. then why is he referred to as a male? because in the original texts of the bible, there were words used in reference to god that in the english language mean dad, father or daddy, he said.

while that part was very interesting to me, nonetheless, this genderizing of god bothered me, so i said maybe god was put in the context of the masculine because in those times, women were property and had no value in the world.

no. god is definitely of a masculine energy. we are to worship god as a father figure, he said.

well i have father issues, so in my mind, usually god is friend and guide. and lately, simply the sum of the whole.

while we had some intense and introspective conversations, i had finally had enough. he was beginning to become downright mean, saying my beliefs were bullshit and i was selfish for thinking for myself. i had to threaten to cut off contact with him for awhile unless he backed off. he finally came to a place where he respected my wishes to end the attempts at converting. i'm sure he still doubts my salvation, but i tell him i've been here before lots of times, i even have memory of some of these other lives, so i'm sure i'll go someplace where i am not destroyed. and i am solid on this one--it sure won't be where pat robertson is going............

n.

yyyyyyyyawwwwwwwwwwwn

that's how i would describe last night's speech. state of the union. borrrrrrrriiinnnnnnnng. same dribble. just a bunch of fluff pieces, nothing solid to back up any of it. still gotta protect ourselves from the boogyman. and to do so, gotta continue to peck away at the constitution. gotta pump money into fighting the boogyman all around the world. sorry mr. and mrs. america--gotta spend more of your dollars so i can continue my game of domination, control and destruction.

what a speech. what lies. lies about a thriving economy. lies about the number of people being on welfare being at the lowest number in 10 years. wrong. truth is social programs have been cut drastically, and thus along with them, people in need. that more than anything pissed me off. and pissed me off to hear a follow-up applause. dems. repubs. all of 'em, blind little sheep, completely out of touch with the american citizen. clap clap clap. good point, mr. president. clap clap clap. sitting all nicely in my warm snug chair in my dry cleaned suit, hair all coiffed. afterwards we're headed to an exclusive party with some of our millionaire lobbyist friends.

watching metropolis. visually fascinating movie made in the 1920's. silent film. based on the year 2026 (i believe). the elite, living above ground in a beautiful city. the workers, living below ground, "where they belong" according to the master of metropolis.

a grand metaphor for how the world operates.

can i go throw up now?????

n.