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Sitting here with my cat on my shoulder, I find myself having hit this place of just stopping, everything around me slowing down so much that it feels like one of thoes slow motion scenes in a movie.
Winter is here. It just started actually. There are a few months ahead where anything can happen weather wise. Everyday that passes has become a numbing routine of looking for work.
Jumping off a cliff of quiet into the sea of people fighting to find a job, just like me.
I wonder how many people will still be here after this winter is over. I wonder how many people will still be working after this winter is over. I wonder how many people will still be sane after this winter is over.
I went through the terror of all the what ifs. I've spent many nights in frustration and tears. When that past and things got very quiet, I began to step back and look at this massive picture that is really alot like tiny beads when you get close to it.
If you look really close you can see things reflected back on the surface and you can see the other side of the bead.
Each bead is individual and beautiful.
Some beads have inclusions in them, some have chips in them, but it doesn't stop them from being beautiful.
Unless your very close all you see is the whole work, or jar or container where there are hundreds, if not thousands of beads.
Sill each bead is individual no matter where you find it.
Nothing of the madness that is showing it's sparks and spikes and panic inducing infection matters to me. It's an odd feeling. Every single one of us on this planet is like those beads. Does knowing this matter or mean anything?
Not really. It's just one view of the big picture. One of thosuands of views.
We are the sand in this solar system, and particles in the cosmos.
Everything will continue on course until this planet stops existing.
I have embraced peace and the acceptance that today is all there is. And in this day most of it will be spent being busy and getting old tasks completed. The chances of me talking to anyone today is very slim.
In the flood of so many moving at such high speed, higher than me anyway, I have become all but invisible, and the truth is I don't feel bad about that.
It honestly feels like I've fell in to the thousand yard stare and that's ok with me.
Strange how things happen isn't it.
It's Wensday here in the middle of no where and there is a large winter white dump that has been predicted to land here and not stop until this comming friday.
I'm working on thinking in more happy terms, since happy terms feel better than feeling like the underbelly of shoe that's been dragging through mud all day.
So my happy thought for the day is...thinking here. Maybe that it's quiet here and all that snow will look like the north pole.
The only thing missing is the polar bears. In tutu's. Dancing to the gummie bear song (one of my favorites)
There is more to be happy over and I'm working on remembering thoes more things. The new year is comming. That is a happy thought because of the possiblity that it can be filled with many happy things.
I like the immage of polar bears singing the gummy bear song...
It's Friday night and I've written several letters and then distroyed them.
I needed to vent because of the amount of frustration I'm feeling.
But just because I needed to vent doesn't mean I planned on sending the letters.
Sometimes it just helps to let off steam and then distroy the evidence.
I'm taking each day as it comes. That's all I can do. I've been in this mode for a long, long time now.
The truth of that sentament has become painfully sharp.
For each issue or problem that arises I will try to find a solution or if I can't, then just hold onto the attitude of gracious acceptance for what I can't change.
Or the gratitude for what ever I can find to hold onto to be greatful for.
Inspite of how many things are not working right at the moment, I love hearing about the good things that are happening to other people. I know it may seem strange, but there is something wonderful about the ablity to be truely happy for someone who is having good fortune.
I think that maybe it's that no one can take that away from me.
So it makes it precious and of great value to me.
I got angry just a little while ago, that's why I wrote the letters I did.
I was angry because life has been on this edge for so long, and one of the things that was of great use failed today.
I have no money to fix the problem because I have no job.
I have to deal with winter with out some very important things for this climate. I'm making some mittens out of an old sweater so that my hands will be protected when I go out looking for work.
It will take several days, but I'm trying to figure out how to make a cape that has some kind of thick liner to protect my legs from the wind that can make the temp drop to way below zero in a very short period of time.
I need to figure out how to knit as well because I want to make some leggings that have spat type coverings for my shoes.
I don't have boots and don't have the money to get any, again no job is the biggest issue.
But people survived in this place for years without cars.
They worked and lived in this harsh place and survived.
I just have to do what they did and I'll make it through the winter just fine.
I've got sand paper so maybe if I take some waterproof glue and attach strips to the soles of my shoes or maybe carry some salt with me in my pockets I can scatter it in front of me.
I'll figure something out. I have to. The streets and side walks can and do get very icy durring the winters here.
This is a challange. And if I am sucessful, then I will have gained more experience and experience rocks.
For so long now I have let so much run over the top of me. I've let fear and frustration do things to my head that were not ok.
No more. I'm a strong woman. I've been through too much and have come to far to just whimp out now.
It's time to rock and roll. It's time to do and make do. And I'm just the person to do that. I've done things in the past that were to the beat of my own drum. Yes they looked out of place because no one else was doing them.
Yes they made people talk. I didn't care. None of them were in my shoes. Just like now.
I'm taking this whole thing by the horns and shaking it until there's nothin left to shake.
And why? Two reasons, because I have no other choice and (smiling) because I can.
It has arrived. Winter with it's bitter winds that do what they do.
I don't mind winter sometimes, but I do mind the bone eating cold.
The journey of this day took me out into it for several hours.
It's part of life now, so I told myself to get used to it.
Until something changes I have to get used to going out for hours at a time into that cold biting world.
I did what I had to do, but I didn't have what I needed. So my hands and face feel funny tonight, so do my eyes. Oh well, it's part of getting used to it.
There is this bridge here in town that goes over the rail yards.
It's open and durring any other time of the year I like going to the middle of it and having a really good long look.
Today when I was walking on the bridge there were several times that I wanted to just sit down and stop, right there.
The windchill was at -3 and I was tired from the cold.
Because of all of the mess my head has been in lately, the internal war, the lack of finding work, the steady flow of rejection knowing I have to keep trying, made that want strong.
It reminded me of some of the nightmears I've had in recient weeks.
I pushed myself forward. I made it to the bus terminal and spent the next hour looking at the other people there. We all kind of looked the same, beat up and worn out.
The human art of the economy.
The bus came and the driver was in a bad mood. I guess he doesn't like driving in this weather. Or maybe he's just grown weary of transporting people around.
But it's a job, and in this country with 15 million people out of work, a job is a job and you hold on to it no matter how much you want out.
I got off the bus a few blocks from home. I did the best I could to protect myself against the wind and cold.
By the time I got back here I felt almost brused from the weather...but I have to get used to it.
I have been telling myself that for several days now, knowing that winter is comming and the only stable reliable transportation is the bus at this point.
I've been hearing these news stories of people who's lives are much worse off.
The man who was everyone thought was in a coma for 23 years before they discovered he wasn't, he just couldn't move or talk or blink his eyes.
For 23 years he laid in that bed wanting to tell someone that he was awake.
The two brothers that were so poor that they have been living in a cave for a long, long time. That story finally had a happy ending though.
They got tracked down by a lawyer for their family and it seems that they inherited alot of money.
I was happy for them. Their life will be better now.
I heard the other day that Obama is sending another 30 thousand troops to the war. Seems he changed his tune from when he was running for office.
Politics tends to make people who end up in office break their promises more than keep them.
There's no way of knowing what a person will do once they get into office.
There's only promises and the best promise maker gets elected.
I was home for a little while and then went and crawled into bed and wrapped up in the blankets to try to get warm again.
It semi worked.
Everyday I get up with the thought that maybe today I will find a job and at that job will be an employer who will see me as the person who fits the job.
Everyday so far it hasn't happened.
So all I can do is keep trying and keep telling myself, get use to the cold. Just get used to it.
Well, I had my first interview in a long time. The lady who interviewed me changed her story a bit from this morning when I talked to her.
This morning she was very clear about being so short handed in her store and said nothing about a job transporting invantory, until tonight.
I find it interesting that things changed from this morning to this evening. This morning it was both part time and full time, tonight it was only part time working in the store.
I don't think I will end up with this job. I got a sense that what this woman wanted from me from the moment she laid eyes on me was someone to do alot of transporting of product from the wharehouse to her store. My truck is in dire need of repair and the wharehouse is in another town altogether. I don't think that gas millage was in the deal. And then there is wear and tear that comes with traveling and that would be on me I suspect.
It had a dishonest feel about it. But we will see. Mark another one off the list.
If I could honestly figure out how to open my own business and know that I could get the money to do it, I'd do that.
It would be so much easier in so many ways than running all over the place trying to do this crazy song and dance just to get a chance to work.
I've listened to alot of people lately who hate their job, take their job for granted, being rather flipant about how they don't care about their job.
Either they don't really know what it's like to be on this end of things, or if they have they have forgotten.
Oh well on ward and another day to look forward to.
Some fun we are having now...
Anyone up for a really long scream?
This post was edited by harold_maude on Nov 12, 2009.
As I was out putting applications in, I saw a man with a handcart in tow that was loaded and over flowing with what I would guess was all that he owned in the world.
I've seen homeless people before. That's not what caught my attention about this man. It wasn't that his clothes were dirty and it was obvious that he hadn't seem a shower in a while. What caught my attention was that he was standing there, leaning up against his cart just looking at traffic.
In this town there are lots of homeless people, but few have carts let alone a hand cart with them. I know that in the bigger cities there are homeless people who have carts.
This was a rare site in this city, at least for me. Most of the homeless store their belongings somewhere and wander the streets durring the day and then disapear back into their camps somewhere.
Seeing this man made me think of how close so many people are in this country to taking a place in the same arena. I've been homeless. I had a truck to live in at the time. So my belongings went with me where ever I went.
I've met homeless people who live outside all year. They keep their camps secret so that the police don't distroy them. It's an underground world. A hidden from house dwellers society.
To be honest if I was still homeless now, I would locate myself closer to the mountians or near a national park, more places to hide and stay safe in. When your homeless, house dwellers can be down right mean at times.
They forget that it doesn't take much and they would be there too.
Seeing this man made me remember what it was like to be there.
It can be lonely when your homeless. The world around you gets blind real fast. Some people are kind when your homeless..
They are the ones who make a difference in your world, make you promise yourself to never forget the other people who you've met while your homeless.
But time does things and sometimes you do forget, especially when you get caught up in trying to keep up and keep a roof over your head.
The memories came flooding back today. I remember the people we met at the shelter we stayed at for a few days. When we didn't see them for a few months and then we would see them again, the first words that we always said to each other were, "I'm glad to see you. Good to know you made it."
In the homeless society there is great stock in having honor. Treating each other with kind words and understanding. When a member of the homeless society screws over another memeber, the word travels quickly, and retubition is fast. Justice reigns in it's own way among the homeless.
People gather into family type groups that look out for each other. They travel through the streets and I am sure their camps are in close proximity to each other.
At least that's how it was when I was homeless. I don't know if it's changed any since then.
I miss the dinners at the center down town. While we all stood outside waiting for the doors to open, we'd talk about what was going on and who had found work, and other things too. The children would tug on their parents sleves because they were hungry and for a child it's hard to wait sometimes.
There is a waiting list to serve dinner in the center. It's over a year long last I heard. People from every profession, from churches, from schools want to serve dinner there. Donations of blankets or loaves of bread or something usually covers long tables against the walls.
They treat the homeless when they come to eat, like honored guests.
When we were going there it was the only meal we had to eat each day. After awhile you get used to eating once a day, and you don't feel your stomach grumbling anymore.
I wish I'd had something today that I could have given that man. Something to let him know that I could see him, and that I knew what it was like to be homeless.
Right now, I'm closer to that place than I've been in a long, long time.
Seeing him reminded me of that. I hope he makes it through the night.