Don't Fear The Reaper

"It is the secret of the world that all things subsist and do not die, but only retire a little from sight and afterwards return again. Nothing is dead; men feign themselves dead, and endure mock funerals and mournful obituaries, and there they stand looking out of the window, sound and well, in some strange new guise."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson 

In the last couple of weeks not only have I been running several grief groups at school, but I have also been working with quite a few of my own on-going clients who have recently experienced the death of a loved one. When doing grief work with children the question- "Miss Mary Anne, what happens when you die?" inevitably comes up at some point during the conversation. How can you answer that question for anyone who is in mourning, let alone a seven year old? Despite my best efforts at using evasive social work-y questions such as, "What do YOU think happens?" (gotta love answering a question with a question), kids always want to know what I personally think. My typical response in the past has been- "To be perfectly honest, I don't know."

This is a quandary great philosophical minds have been contemplating for millennia, and so much of it is rooted in faith and what religious institutions dictate. This puts me in a bind because, if you have been reading my blog you will know, that I don't, and never have fit into any one religious genre. I have no religious text or spiritual leader to enlighten me (and despite things being a bit challenging sometimes, I actually prefer it that way). So I have never been able to say with any real conviction that I know what happens for sure when you kick the bucket. I struggle with the notion- that you die, your body is put into the ground where it rots, and that's it. There has to be something more, otherwise life seems sort of meaningless. As a result, I have always gravitated toward the concept of reincarnation because intellectually it makes sense to me. Everything is made of energy and science has proven that energy can never be lost or destroyed, just transferred. This is a pretty simplistic explanation of reincarnation I know, but I have never heard any other good arguments for or against it.

Then in December, while I was perusing Half Price Books looking for gifts for family members, I stumbled across a book called Many Lives, Many Masters by Dr. Brian Weiss in the spirituality section. The book is based on Weiss's practice as a psychologist, and looked really interesting, so I wrote down the name and checked it out of the library for some light reading while I was on Christmas break. (Is it sad that mental health non-fiction is my idea of a "fun" read?)

The book revolves around "Catherine" a client who sought Weiss's help in dealing with many debilitating phobias and anxiety. Weiss treated her with standard psychotherapy for eighteen months, (that's a long ass time to be in therapy) with little to no improvement, when he decided to try hypnotherapy and regression techniques to get to the "root" of her problems. Even these strategies weren't working very well until Weiss got the idea to suggest that she "remember the time when her symptoms began" while she was under hypnosis. What ended up happening was Catherine started talking about past life experiences she had hundreds and thousands of years ago in many different parts of the world. The craziest thing of all? After re-experiencing her past lives (and many past life deaths), her symptoms completely disappeared. Since then, Weiss has regressed hundreds of people and been able to later validate much of the detailed information clients have given about a particular culture or place where they lived in another life.

The theory I find the most interesting, however, is with all his experience he has discovered that clients will "recognize" people from their current lives again and again as people they loved or cared about in lives past. This has lead Weiss to believe that souls travel together across time in groups or "soul families," which usually consists of 4-5 souls who end up being family and friends, plus one "soul mate." (Maybe there is something to what my psychic friend told me after all, if you don't know what I am talking about see my previous post here.) The idea that people who are near and dear to you right now have probably been family members, lovers, and friends throughout all your previous lives is such an intriguing concept.

I believe Weiss's work could bring a lot of peace to grieving family members, or to those who struggle with their own mortality. Many people are terrified of death and dying, and as such, take extreme measures to avoid talking about it/and or to curtail death for as long as they can. Weiss makes a wonderful comment about this in another one of his books- Only Love Is Real (yes I ended up reading them all, I am a nerd). He says-

"Our bodies and souls are like cars and their drivers. Always remember you are the driver and not the car. Don't identify with the vehicle. The emphasis these days on prolonging the duration of our lives, on living to one hundred year of age or more, is madness. It's like keeping your old Ford going past 200,000 miles, past 300,000. The body of the car is rusting out, the transmission has been rebuilt five times, things are falling off the engine, and yet you refuse to turn it in. Meanwhile, there is a brand new Corvette waiting for you right around the corner. All you have to do is gently step out of the old Ford and slide into the beautiful Corvette. The driver, the soul, never changes. Only the car."

I am not going to lie, even now after reading Weiss's work, when children ask me what I think about death I still try to avoid answering 1) because it's not my place to tell them what to believe and 2) because I have no idea how the hell you explain reincarnation to a child. Regardless, in my own life I can't help but take solace in the knowledge that death is not necessarily an ending, but a new beginning. A beginning that will surely be filled with loved ones lost and found yet again.

I may not be ready yet to take Death by its cold clammy hand and skip off into the afterlife throwing daisies in my wake, for one thing I don't believe my work in this life is done yet, but when it is my time I would like to think I will go peacefully rather than kicking and screaming. Throwing tantrums are for little ones and God only knows I deal with enough of that at work. Besides, when I am a crusty old geezer I would much rather trade in my beat up old Caddy for a shiny red Mustang convertible and wave sayonara to the geriatric ward as I drive off into the sunset and a new life... Wouldn't you?

Is It A Bird? Is It A Plane? No, It's Just Another Crazy Homeless Man...

When I was still in elementary school, like most kiddos, I wanted to grow up to have superpowers. I thought being able to transform into animals would be pretty awesome (I read waaayyy too many Animorphs books), but if I couldn't have that I would have settled for being able to fly or having x-ray vision. And like most children (and some adults I know), I was deeply disappointed when I grew up and none of these special abilities came to fruition. However, life did see it fit to bless (or curse) me with one particular skill, and that is the ability to make people feel completely at ease around me, even if I have known them for all of five minutes.

There must be something about my persona that gives off the vibe to strangers that I am to be trusted with their deepest, darkest, secrets. As a counselor who interviews families on a daily basis about personal traumas, many of which contain extremely sensitive information, this comes in really handy. In my personal life though, it can be just down right awkward, and as a result I am not unaccustomed to weird conversations with people I hardly know.

When I was a senior in high school I worked as a waitress at IHOP, and had the pleasure of engaging in a long conversation with a bizarre elderly man in a ten gallon cowboy hat about how beautiful my hands were, and how he wanted to photograph them holding a pearl necklace. (At seventeen, I was savvy enough in the ways of the world to know that a "pearl necklace" could be a code word for a creepy sexual favor, never mind the fact that my fingers were usually burned from carrying hot plates and I perpetually smelled like maple syrup. Maybe the aroma of pancakes is an aphrodisiac for dirty old men, who knows?...) I was later told by a reputable source that he really was a legitimate photographer who was just "a little eccentric" (I think "a little" was an understatement).

Then when I was in college working in the registrar's office, a middle aged woman came in and made a same day transcript request. As I was getting the necessary documents together she mentioned she needed them because she was applying to seminary. I made the usual polite comments and then she dropped the religion bomb on me-

"Do you believe in God, darling?" (She was one of those fun people who love to use terms of endearment on complete strangers...)

"I don't really know what I believe. I guess I haven't really figured it out yet."

This was back during my "I'm angry with God," and your typical "I am trying to find myself" phase. Questions like these made me really uncomfortable because they usually ended in your standard- "Oh, you don't know Jesus? Well let me spend the next 20 minutes trying to convert you then!" type of conversation. However, I was spared that lecture and what she actually said was-

"Oh that's okay honey, you'll figure it out someday. I can tell by your aura that you are a very spiritual person..."

I was flabbergasted. How do you respond to someone who has just told you they can see your aura? It was truly a bizarre conversation, even more so because her words ended up being strangely prophetic. The absurdity of these conversations at the time effectively seared them permanently into my memory, never to be forgotten. This phenomenon doesn't happen very often, but when it does it inevitably strikes a chord. I had the pleasure (or pain) of having another one of these conversations last week.

While at work the other day, (I am sensing a pattern here, all the weirdness seems to happen to me while I am working, maybe I should quit and be a hobo...) I was talking with an acquaintance who has recently discovered that she herself has some pretty awesome psychic superpowers. What started out as an ability to do her own muscle testing for supplements, similar to to what Chris does at CAaWC, has quickly developed into being able to test others even from long distances and answer questions about the future. In the course of our conversation I happened to mention I was in the process of getting divorced which, FYI, is probably not information you should casually drop around someone who is psychic, unless you are prepared to receive some crazy spiritual advice. After making the socially acceptable sympathetic remarks she then proceeded to say-

"Can I ask a question for you?" (Meaning ask a question to whatever source she taps into to get her psychic answers...)

"Sure." At this point I was intensely curious. She went really quiet and still for a couple of seconds and then came back with-

"You can stop worrying about whether you made the right decision or not, he wasn't your soul mate."

Slightly skeptical, but intrigued, I couldn't help but ask, "Well, have I at least met my soul mate then?"

Again, she got real quiet and after a few seconds-

"No, he's not in your life yet, but your soul mate will be your companion (as opposed to a friend or a relative, which she later explained). So when you meet him DON'T SCREW IT UP!..."

You would think this would have been good news, but as I am discovering as of late, our minds are not always rational when it comes to affairs of the heart. By the time I drove home that night I was in a full blown existential crisis that sounded a little something like this...

"SHIT, what if I meet him and I don't know it? What if I blow it and miss my chance? The world is a big place, he could be anywhere! Where in the hell should I even start looking?! What if I don't meet him until I am like 50 years old? By that time I will probably be so cynical I will be a crazy old cat lady and he will take one look at me and head for the nearest exist. Fuck, fuck, fuck I am going to be alone for the rest of my natural life..." (Yeah, I told you it wasn't rational. I sometimes think I am closer to the crazy cat lady scenario than I care to admit.)

Instead of being soothed I felt angry, frustrated, and incredibly and heartbreakingly lonely. It took several late nights of karaoke and copious amounts of coffee to bring me back out of my funk.

Whether I believe in prophecy or not, now that I have had a couple of days to process the experience I have decided that maybe it won't be so bad after all. Dating and searching for "the one" could be fun when I decide to test the romantic waters again someday. As long as it doesn't turn into a bad episode of "How I Met Your Mother" I will be fine. (I stopped watching that show after about the fourth season because I got so frustrated with it, and I am pretty sure we STILL don't know who the mother is. If I were those kids I would smack Bob Saget for taking so fucking long to get to the point of the story...)

We already know that the superpowers of our youth don't really exist, so maybe spiritual superpowers don't exist either. Maybe people who claim to have them are making it all up, I dunno. The rational part of my brain wants to dismiss the whole thing as a hoax, while another, equally logical part of myself is willing to admit that there are many things in this world that I don't fully comprehend and maybe never will. What I do know is that my own personal superpower appears to be drawing crazy people like flies to honey. Case in point, just last night on my way to the coffee shop, ironically enough to work on this very blog post, my friend John and I were accosted by a homeless man in the parking lot asking for money. Even after I told him I had no cash to share with him he thanked me and then proceeded to spend the next five minutes telling me his entire life story. Once finished, Dwayne (that was his name I learned) then said "God bless you" and asked for a group hug. Normally strangers touching me really freaks me out, but this time something inside me said "Aw, what the hell, why not?" So I hugged crazy homeless Dwayne in that coffee shop parking lot on campus at ten-o-clock at night.

At some point in your life you just have to accept what you are and embrace the madness...literally and figuratively.

Hello God? It's me, Mary Anne...

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

-Robert Frost

I am almost hesitant to write this month because spirituality is such a personal thing and I generally only share my beliefs with others who I deeply trust and are open minded, but I promised to be raw and authentic so here goes...

What if I told you I talked to God? You'd probably be like- So what? Lots of people talk God, it's called "prayer," duh. Okay, so what if I said I not only talk to God, but God talks back? Then you would probably start taking measurements for my straight jacket and make a reservation for a stay at the local looney bin, but it's true. I have conversations with God, (or the "Great Inspirerer" as I prefer to address It...) and I will get to that in a minute, but first it may be helpful to know how I got to this point.

I grew up in an extremely conservative and religious part of Ohio. Almost all of my friends went to church and about 95% of them were Catholic. I, personally, was raised Methodist and did the whole sunday school and confirmation song and dance, but even at a tender young age I always questioned what I was told ( and for those who know me well this should come as no big surprise). As a result, this often got me into a lot of trouble.

I remember a specific example early on of a time when I made my confirmation teacher angry (or maybe just frustrated, I am not sure you could truly make Leah mad...) because I couldn't understand why the only way you could know God was "through Jesus". It didn't make any sense, especially considering we had just covered the Trinity a week before. Weren't they the same guy?! (Try successfully explaining THAT to a ten year old.) I just couldn't wrap my mind around this idea of God being inaccessible without a mediator, so I chose, rather reluctantly I might add because it went against what  I was being taught at the time, to ignore these lessons and believe what felt right to me. And so began my journey of taking the "spiritual road less traveled." A journey that, at times, has been very tumultuous but in the end deeply satisfying.

As I said, I grew up in a conservative town so for me- a person with an extremely liberal belief system, I stuck out like a sore thumb. High school was rough and if I wasn't told I was going to hell at least a couple of times a school week, then it hadn't been a very good week. Not that I ever intentionally antagonized my conservative peers, no sir, not me (mischievous grin).

Then, when I was about seventeen, I went through a typical teenage crisis of faith and gave God a big "Fuck you!" I denied spirituality of any sort for a couple of years, but always felt something was missing and in college started looking for something that really fit me. I went through an interesting (and sometimes rather entertaining) foray through the "isms"... Atheism, Agnosticism, Deism, Buddhism, Paganism, etc., and some of these things came close but never really "clicked".

Finally, about two years ago I read several books that completely changed my entire outlook on religion. The first book, Writing Down Your Soul- by Janet Conner, I came across by accident. I had picked it up because it was a book on journaling, something I am very passionate about. (Rather than spend a lot of money on a shrink I write obsessively instead, it's a hell of a lot cheaper.) I didn't realize it was also a spiritual book until I was a couple chapters in and at that point I almost considered putting it down. However, it wasn't a- "I'm going to cram my beliefs down your throat" sort of book so I continued to read it. It nearly blew my mind when I finally realized where Conner was going with it- she was suggesting that you could write to God and God would actually respond right there on the page! Here was proof that someone, a seemingly sane person, was having a authentic, personal conversation with the Source without needing an interpreter. (Sorry Jesus, while I have an immense amount of respect for you- no one likes a middle man.) Naturally I was skeptical at first and when I tried it out for myself it felt weird and unnatural because I just couldn't let go of preconceived ideas about how you should talk to the Almighty. So I gave up thinking it was stupid and sort of crazy. God, however, can be persistent.

Enter book two into my life- Conversations With God- by Neale Donald Walsch (this is actually a multi-book series) where yet again my beliefs about God were turned upside down. Here is another person
doing essentially the exact same thing that Conner proposed in her book (though I am pretty sure Conversations With God was published first) and with AMAZING results. In a nutshell, the conversation Walsch has with God in these books is absolutely breath-taking and well worth the time it takes to read all of them.

So feeling slightly less crazy, after all now there were at least two other people in the world doing it, I again attempted my own conversation, this time with much better results. Today, not only do I have heartfelt chats with God on almost a daily basis, but I would also go so far as to say we have become *GASP* friends!

You don't have to believe me, you can even call me crazy if you want, that's okay. What I do know is that some of the poetry and insights that come out of my pen during these conversations does NOT come from anywhere inside me (for one thing I am not that eloquent). I also know that these conversations have changed my life in that- I am no longer as fearful of making mistakes, or believing in the "wrong" religion, or even of death itself because the Deity I have come to know and love is never judgmental, is always supportive, and loves me unconditionally no matter how bad I screw up. In fact, I think it's high time you met my good friend the Great Inspirerer, so without further adieu here is a snippet from one of our conversations...

(This is an excerpt from a journal entry from a couple months ago during which I was having a particularly rough week. I chose this conversation to share with you because I think it is one of the most beautiful and comforting things anyone has ever said to me.)

October 22, 2012

(Me) I feel so weary and burdened.

Give it to me.

I feel so angry and frustrated I want to scream.

Give it to me. 

I feel guilty and sad because I feel like a complete and utter failure and weak and helpless.

Give it to me child.

Take it, I don't want it anymore.

I will take it Dearheart and know this... On the darkest of nights I am the beacon lighting your way. I am your shelter and your protection from the violent storm. I am the warmth and love that envelopes you and lets you know that it will be okay. I am your champion, I will fight for you, along side you, every step of the way. I am your steady dependable rock, your foundation that will never crack or crumble. I am fierce and brave and strength incarnate and more importantly, as I am all these things so too are YOU because we are One. Where you go, I shall follow and what I am, so too shall you be as we are not separate but part of the Whole. Find strength and comfort in that, Dearheart... Whenever you feel weak or scared or angry, call upon me, call upon my strength and courage and know that you too are strong and courageous.

I frequently look back on this entry when I am lonely or scared and every time I feel the warmth and love I did the first time I received this reassuring message.

So maybe in the end I haven't completely convinced you that having conversations with God isn't utterly insane,to be fair it took awhile to get used to the idea myself, but at this point I try not to worry too much about what everyone else thinks. After all the many long and sometimes painful years of searching, this beautiful relationship I have with my Creator makes me feel like I have finally come home.

And that's exactly where I want to be.

All You Need Is A Little TLC

The New Year approaches and my month of generosity is almost over. Hard to believe that two months of my transformational year are gone already.

In December, I have made mittens and I donated toys and clothes to a needy child at Christmas. I have welcomed friends and family into my home and have tried to be a good guest in return. I have tried to find little things to do to be generous towards my friends and family, such as scraping car windows without being asked or buying a friend a movie ticket because he always drives me places (he also happens to be one of the most generous people I know as well and I should take some pointers from him), but I realized a week or so ago that lately I hadn't been generous towards one very important person- myself. I needed to fix that asap.

If there is one thing I remember having drilled into my head during my undergrad program in social work (and let's be honest, that was three and a half years ago so I don't remember much...) it was- avoid burnout! Engage in lots of self care and put yourself first before anyone else. To someone whose entire profession revolves around giving to others this may seem counter-intuitive and somewhat selfish, or at least it did to me initially, until I got burnt out, and burnt out again, and again until I began to recognize the wisdom in taking care of numero uno and setting more appropriate boundaries. (What do you mean you are a social worker who doesn't work past four on Friday afternoons?!) I frequently remember a self care example I heard repeatedly from professors through college... Similar to the safety instructions they go over on airplanes about putting your oxygen mask on first before helping someone else in case of an emergency, you have to take care of yourself and keep yourself healthy in order to be able to function well enough to assist others. I had to realize that thinking of yourself first doesn't necessarily  make you selfish, it simply assures that your mind, body, and soul are rejuvenated so you can continue to be fully present in the lives of people you care about. I would like to note that "taking care of yourself" doesn't mean going out and denying or taking things away from others, it merely means acknowledging and honoring the fact that you too are worth a little TLC once and awhile. I would also like to note that burnout isn't exclusive to social workers, everyone from stay at home parents, to lawyers and doctors get occasionally burnt out from life's daily grind.

With everything that has happened the last few months, with moving, the holidays, and working two jobs, I was getting down to my last nerve. I was tired, cranky and frequently pessimistic. So what did I do? I took a vacation! (Well, technically I worked myself to death this month making sure I had made productivity and had everything done and turned in that I needed to BEFORE I went on vacation, but that's besides the point.) Between weekends, paid holidays and the days I actually took off I have had eleven glorious days of absolute freedom to do whatever the hell I've wanted to.

So in the interest of being generous towards myself this is what I have done, or plan to do (since vacation isn't technically over until after the new year) with my numerous days off...

• Had a snow day pajama party with my puppies and watched horrible romance movies I borrowed from the library. (Kate and Leopold was a little far fetched, not to mention Kate was kind of a bitch.  The Wedding Date was cute, but some of the acting was truly atrocious.)
• Visited family for several days in Northwest Ohio.
• Was actually able to read an entire book from start to finish in a reasonable amount of time instead of over the course of several months.
• Went and saw Les Miserables in theater on Christmas day. (It was AMAZING! If you haven't already seen it run, don't walk to your nearest cinema and see it NOW... Seriously, why are you still reading this? Stop wasting precious time and go order some tickets!)
• Have made/ am going to make lots of awesome food including grain/dairy/refined sugar free chocolate cranberry scones tomorrow for breakfast, which is exciting because I haven't had scones in probably eight months now. Cross your fingers they turn out well...
• Went to karaoke last night and listened to several dozen appalling renditions of 80's songs being sung by extremely inebriated people who had no business singing in public even without having consumed copious amounts of alochol. (Needless to say there was lots of incoherent screaming.) I also bore witness to an incredibly awkward version of "I Touch Myself" by a suspender-wearing, Steve Urkle type, that was reminiscent of the Keith- "Like a Virgin" audition for American Idol way back in it's first or second season. (For those who don't remember, have never seen it, or are masochists and want to relive the hilarity and pain all over again click here.)
• Spent time in the studio working on personal creative endeavors and Christmas presents for friends. (I made some really awesome gifts, but will have to post pictures later because I haven't given them to the lucky recipients yet...)
• Spent many hours writing and philosophizing in my journal.
• And to finish off my vacation I intend to go to several parties on New Year's Eve, stay out way too late, sleep until noon the next day and then have people over for a traditional lucky Irish New Year dinner of corned beef and cabbage- huzzah!

With all this free time I am trying really hard not to be critical of myself when I don't get everything finished in a day that I wanted to, or if I didn't really do anything that day period.This is vacation after all. Trouble is I need to remember to do that all the time- to be generous to myself everyday, and maybe then I won't feel like such a shrew by the time my next vacation rolls around.


Ok, now for the upcoming month... As I mentioned earlier- two months down, ten to go. In January my focus is going to be on spirituality, which I am really excited about and have some great ideas on how to expand my own spiritual practices/knowledge. I have some awesome books I want to read and talk about, as well as I am planning on attending services from several different world religions. (This may include attending a Scientology meeting just for shits and giggles, although I don't know if I will have the guts to go through with that one. We shall see.)

Stayed tuned, I will be continuing with new posts again here at the end of next week. Have a safe and happy New Year everyone!

My Grownup Christmas List

April 21, 1999

"There was another school shooting yesterday. They think at least 25 students/teachers were killed. I guess that the people who did it were the ones who were always getting picked on. So I guess they sort of...snapped."

This was written by my own childish twelve year old hand. In the spring of my sixth grade year tragedy struck our nation. Two students, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, carried weapons to school and opened fire on their classmates. This was the 1999 Columbine school shooting. An incident that seemed to be the catalyst for a pattern of similar events.

Fast forward to the spring of 2007 and now I am a college sophomore sitting in my dorm room watching the news, horrified that yet another shooter- Seung Hui Cho, rained bullets down upon a university lecture hall. This time it was at Texas A&M.

Both these incidents (and many others) happened half way across the country, yet to me, and I am sure many of my peers as well, it felt like it was happening right in our own backyard. Doors that had always been open were now locked twenty-four hours a day and emergency plans immediately put into place. Now schools didn't just practice fire and tornado drills, "lock downs" and disaster drills were now part of standard procedure. It begged the question, "If it could happen there, could it happen here?"

In the wake of yet another senseless act of violence- the murders at Sandy Hook Elementary on Friday, I can't help but feel the same feeling of unease. What if that happened at one of my schools? To my colleagues? To the children I work with? To me? What would I do in the same situation? What would anyone do? So many questions...

I would like to think that I would do whatever it took to protect innocent life, to protect the children. They have become such an important part of my life and I care very much about all of them, (even the ones that drive me crazy sometimes) that the mere idea of someone, anyone trying to hurt them infuriates me beyond all reason. I would like to think that if, God forbid, something ever did happen and someone broke into my room, at one of my schools, and tried to hurt a child in my care, that I would fight tooth and nail until my last dying breath to keep that child safe. The truth is, however, that I just don't know. I don't think anyone really knows how they would react in a situation until they are faced with it. I just pray that should that day ever come that I won't become paralyzed by fear and will be up to the task of protecting my wards.

What I do know is that many brave men and women have given the most generous gift anyone could give- their own lives, to save countless more, and yet there have still been too many deaths. At what point do we as a society say enough is enough? A lot of "solutions" have been tossed around in the last few days, everything from the need for tighter gun control to making mental health services more readily available and accessible in this county, and I believe these things should be discussed, need to be discussed, but they are, unfortunately, just a small part of a bigger problem.

Whether we would like to admit it or not we are still a primitive society. Sure, we've had a huge technological explosion in the last hundred years and we have made tremendous strides in various intellectual arenas, but despite all of that we remain unenlightened when it comes to the care and treatment of our fellow man. There are still people in this world living in squalor, there are still people without access to food and clean water, there are still people without access to reliable medical care, there are still people living in the streets without a roof over their head at night. How can we call ourselves advanced when we can't even be bothered to take care of all of Earth's inhabitants?

It's easy to demonize the shooters, and I am not condoning their actions, but nine times out of ten these people commit horrendous acts due to a combination of mental illness and because they feel that they themselves have somehow been victimized. When we stop marginalizing and separating ourselves from others and recognize WE ARE ALL ONE PEOPLE, when we start treating every person with the dignity they deserve, when everyone can be assured that their basic human needs will be met, maybe then people will no longer feel a need to commit such incomprehensible acts of violence.

Sadly, though, I fear this will not happen during my lifetime, and even if it did it would still be too little too late for the beautiful children at Sandy Hook And the many other souls lost over the years to senseless shootings.

Christmas is less that a week away, and while I am too old to still believe in Santa Claus, I do have one wish, a Grown-up Christmas List-

To all the parents who lost precious children in Friday's unthinkable attack, and to all the families missing loved ones this holiday season, I pray you find some solace, whatever your beliefs may be, in the thought that while they are no longer with you they are safe wherever they are and can never be hurt again. May they rest in peace and let us never forget them.

"Perhaps they are not the stars, but rather openings in Heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy."

-Anon

The Gift of Giving

While discussing this month's theme of generosity to a friend of mine earlier this week she made the comment of "Not everyone can afford to be generous." This really got me thinking... During this time of year, with the holidays right around the corner, you are constantly being bombarded with opportunities to give. From being asked to make contributions to the food bank in the checkout line at Kroger, to a plethora of Christmas toy drives, to all the people who stand outside stores ringing their bells in the freezing cold for change, you can't throw a rock in December without hitting someone collecting donations for charity. For me, with generosity being a focus this month, this is a very good thing as it makes accomplishing my goal that much easier. However, all these things do place a lot of emphasis on monetary generosity, which brings me back to the previous comment of "Not everyone can afford to be generous."

On the surface I agree with this statement. Some people, such as many of the families I work with, are in enough trouble of their own that they truly don't have anything left over at the end of the month to give to someone else. I think the number of people this is true for is actually a lot lower than most people think, however, and the majority of households can at least afford to contribute a dollar or two. At that point it becomes more a question of "Do I want to give?" rather than "Do I have the means to give?" That being said, I believed there had to be more to being generous than just giving people money, so I did what all good twenty somethings my age do when they have a deeply philosophical question- I Googled it.

Here is what Google and Webster's Online Dictionary had to say...

Generosity- the quality of being kind and generous.

...Yeah... That was helpful (note the sarcasm). So I then decided to look up the root word- generous to see what it had to say and I got a lot better results...

Generous- 1) Showing a readiness to give more of something, as in money or time, than is strictly necessary or expected. 2) Showing kindness towards others.

Thanks Google, once again you managed to come through for me in my hour of spiritual need! Seriously though, I really like this definition because it makes being generous accessible to everyone. By this definition anyone who is willing (showing a readiness) to give something (doesn't have to be money) more than what is expected is showing generosity.

Simply put, I am being generous when I give a kid extra time during a session to finish coloring a picture or to play a game. I am being generous when I take the time to lend an ear to a friend in need even if I may not have a lot of time at that moment. I am being generous when I volunteer my time at various charity events, and I am REALLY being generous when I let more than one person merge in front of me on the highway during rush hour. (Believe me, in Columbus that's a Christmas miracle. Trying to safely navigate your way around this city is like attending an asshole convention where every douche bag known to man converges on your location to try and piss in your Cheerios. They will find you and they will seriously fuck your shit up.) You don't have to be loaded like Bill Gates and donate millions of dollars to charity each year (though that is awesome and good for him). It's the simple gestures that sometimes mean as much or more than giving gobs of money. By this definition, we have no real reason not to be generous because something as ridiculously simple as being kind to someone is showing generosity, and in an ideal world everyone should be kind to everyone.

So here is my challenge- Go forth into the world my friends and be generous towards others. Not just for today and not just for this holiday season, but everyday, for the need is so great and everybody, every single person, has something they can share of themselves. I am convinced that if everyone did this all the time the world would be a much nicer place to live.

As for me? I am going to start by making myself a nice mug of eggnog, throw on some episodes of "Hot in Cleveland" (hey, gotta be generous towards ourselves too) and start making some more mittens. They may not be as beautiful as store bought or cost a lot of money, but one of my gifts is creating and I like to share that gift with others. As I think about all the little hands my mittens will keep warm this winter, I like to think there is one thing that makes them stand out from anything you could ever buy from a store-
 
They were made with love :)

It's a mitten orgy!

Sticks And Stones May Break My Bones

"I don't believe the things my dad says about you."

(Uh oh.) "Well that's good. What did he say about me? Wait... do I want to know?"

"Probably not." (Pause) "Let's just say he doesn't think you know what you are doing and you aren't helping me at all." (Another pause) "I think you are helping me though."

"Hmmm. Well, everyone is entitled to their own opinion. Sometimes people say things when they are upset that they don't necessarily mean later on."

This was a conversation I had with one of the kids I work with a week or so ago. Last year at this time I would have been livid over this comment. In fact, about two years ago almost the exact same situation did happen and I was FURIOUS. Another kid had shared with me during a session that his father (why is it always the fathers?) had said I was "too stupid to fix him" (meaning the kid). I already had a pretty negative relationship with this father so the defamation of character really sent me over the edge. So much so that I wrote this father a particularly nasty letter in my journal that night.

(WARNING: When I get righteously angry it's not often a pretty sight. This entry is rated PG-13 for explicit language and spiteful content...)

February 22, 2011

Dear Sir-

It is my understanding that you think I am "too stupid" to "fix" your child, well I am here to tell you that if you weren't such a piss poor excuse for a human being, let alone a father, your kid wouldn't need "fixed" in the first place. You may not think much of my degree or occupation, but that's perfectly alright as my esteem for low-life's such as yourself is non-existent. Maybe if you stop beating your wife and emotionally abusing your eight year old son I could find some empathy for you, but alas, I find that highly unlikely. 

I also find it highly unlikely that you will understand the majority of this letter because, while you try to pass yourself off as educated, you are nothing but a smarmy asshole who uses too much hair gel and is probably lucky to have a high school diploma. And while I know many people who have lower educations and are perfectly amicable you seem to believe that you are some God's gift to the world which makes you not only conceited, but a twat to think your presence makes this world a better place. While I may be "stupid" at least I can find enjoyment and validation in positive ways rather than terrorizing and threatening small children to make myself feel good. That just makes you a cocksucker and I hope someone comes along and dick slaps you in the face so you know what it feels like.

Sincerely-

Your friendly neighborhood social worker.

When I go back and re-read this entry I alternate between laughing hysterically (because it truly is funny) and being ashamed that I could be so hateful even if this man was a cretin. Then I remember that, like the father earlier this week who said "I didn't know what I was doing," being angry can make you do and say some crazy shit.

It is for this reason that I was pleasantly surprised that I WASN'T angry about this person's recent comments. In fact, I found myself later feeling grateful. Why the hell would I be grateful for someone calling me incompetent you might ask? Well, because it gave me the opportunity to see how much I've grown. Almost the exact same remark from a couple of years ago ago made me spew venom and hate all over the page, whereas this week I said "that's nice" and let it go. I am grateful because it was a lesson in self-confidence. I knew I was doing everything and more to help this family and that was good enough for me. If they don't think I am doing my job then they can fire me- no big deal. (I would like to point out that they haven't done so yet so I must being doing something right.)

As much as I complain about how much I hate my social work job, and whoa-buddy can it crazy stressful and intense sometimes, I have come to realize, that while it's not something I want to do too much longer, it has definitely changed and challenged me a lot as a person.

When I first started working this job straight out of undergrad I was fresh-faced and optimistic that I was going to "change the world one client at a time!" Oh how sweet and naive I was. It's almost comical now. I wouldn't go so far as to say I am a jaded, crusty old social worker (for one I am not that old), but I am a lot more cynical than I used to be. Some may see this as a bad thing, and too much cynicism can be, but it has also made me a lot less gullible and a lot more street savvy. It has helped me develop a "tougher skin." It is much easier to take criticism than it used to be and I am a lot better at letting things roll off my shoulders than I was.

I think that confidence alone has been monumental. I have definitely had moments throughout the last three years as a counselor where I have thought- "Shit, if I can get through that I can get through anything!" From a kid projectile vomiting all over the shelter house in the park (yeah, that was fun), to impromptu couple's counseling to save a marriage when I simply thought I was picking a kid up to go to McDonald's, this job has really pushed me to be a better counselor, and ultimately a better person. Despite the daily stress and frustration, this has been the greatest gift I could have received.

With this month being over I am realizing that being consciously grateful everyday is a lot tougher than I thought it was going to be. However, even if this new perspective towards my job is the only thing I gain from undertaking the virtue of gratitude for this month (and it isn't), I would still consider it a win. Being able to say "I am grateful a parent thinks I am an idiot" is definitely not something I ever thought I would hear myself say.

Don't get me wrong, I am not saying I don't secretly think those dads are twat-waffles, but at least I am not going to rage about it in my journal. That my friends- is progress :)


Switching gears, tomorrow is the first day of a new month, which means I am going to have a new focus. December is actually the only month out of the year that I am going to have two virtues- generosity and hospitality. My big projects this month are making mittens and hats to donate to a homeless shelter and adopting a family for Christmas. Every year one of the elementary schools I work for creates a list of students from low income families who cannot afford to have a traditional holiday. The staff then take these names and buy clothes and toys for the children to open on Christmas day. This is such a big deal for the kids because often this is the only time in the year they get any new clothes or a new toy. With that said, if anyone reading this is interested in contributing to either project please contact me via Facebook or at curioushawkstudio@gmail.com. Any contribution would be extremely appreciated not only by myself, but by all the families in need who will receive help this holiday season!