The Correct Change

I watched the election results last night at work, surrounded by a group of people who cannot vote because of various felony convictions.
Between requests to turn the station back to their Rock of Love rerun,
I tried to share my excitement over Obama’s victory.
“Who gives a shit ?” one woman said, turning away in disgust, “What’s the government ever done for me?” When I detailed her monthly welfare grant, her medical coupon, her food stamps and her WIC checks, she opened her mouth in amazement. “WIC comes from the government - I thought that was a state thing.” I appealed to a woman whose children share our next president’s ethnic heritage, she said “Oh, I don’t think my kids even know they’re black – we never talk about stuff like that.”
Since no one seemed interested in the history-shattering events that were unfolding, I took myself to the old TV in the back room of our place.
The snowy screen made things seem hazy and even more surreal than they already were, but the volume was great. Obama sounded confident but humble, hopeful but realistic – and I wished I could reach him as he has reached so many of us.
If I could say anything to our next president, it might go something like this:

Hey Barack,
I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.
Right now, while you stand there on the biggest stage in the world, you look like a man. A real man, with principles and values.
Please, as you prepare to take office, just keep that real.
Please, don’t lose your humanity.
Don’t forget about all the little people, the ones you brought to voting booths for the first time in their lives. Feed the hope you created in their souls with serious, self-sustaining changes that won’t lose their luster a week after you take office.
Don’t offend your people with shiny toy measures and bright colored loopholes that fall apart in the wash. Do your job, work hard and keep telling the truth, even when it’s ugly. We all know what’s up – we live here, remember?
I can tell by the way you touch your wife that you’re thinking of a time,
not long from now, when you can roll her into bed and whisper in her ear, “Honey, starting tonight a black man's gonna get it done in this White House.”
And it won’t even sound dirty – it will just sound good - because it’s been a long time coming.
I know I should feel bad about thinking that, I'm sorry if it sounds undignified.
I would never have thought such a thing about Reagan or Bush.
Not for what may seem like obvious reasons, but because they didn't seem like they could bring passion and politics to their bedrooms, let alone their boardrooms. They never seemed capable of doing anything more than providing a frame for their expensive suits to hang from. They did not seem alive.
You do.
You own your suit – you own your self - and you have made us believe you fill both with honesty and passion, with humor, humility and style.
Don’t let us down.
We really need you to be that once-in-a-life-time guy who looks good because he IS good. That guy who loves his wife and his children, gives to his neighbors and laughs at himself while still honoring his own history and inner wisdom.
That guy who keeps his word and actually does the job he sets out to do.
Hey – Obama, good luck.
Stay safe.
We’ll be listening to you, so you better keep listening to us.
We all have an enormously important story to tell – a story worth getting right for a change.







(p.s. hello Matt from afar - wishing you well on your journeys, and hoping to hear YOUR perspective some soon day...)

fifty two.

work

Speaking of calling out into the darkness...
I am still toiling in the same black hole.
This is my 3rd year of working with addicts and their children,and my compassion - oxygen for the deep spaceof addiction/recovery ‘support services' - is running low.

It’s just harder and harder to remain objective, to suspend judgement

or hold out hope because the faces change (and change and change)

but the song remains the same.

Most of the new residents I get are young.
They started using earlier and seem more hardened.

They have fewer real-life skills (cooking, cleaning, self-care, work experience, education),

more past-life damage and less desire to work for some sort of recovery.

One resident told me yesterday that, "Hard work is for stupid people".
Maybe she’s right.

The collective history of the women I work with is overwhelming: long-term use of meth,

crack, cocaine, heroin, methadone, alcohol, pot and prescription drugs,

lengthy criminal histories, numerous children, repeated entry into rehab centers,

jail or prison and little to no family support.

When they were still using, they made (and wasted) more money than I will ever see.

Sober life (which includes facing and paying for their criminal pasts, getting a 'real' job

and avoiding drug dealing/prostitution/theft) dictates that they will live

below the poverty line for years before they ever begin to experience basic economic stability. Even if they are successful in their recovery efforts (current success rate - 1 in 6),
limited funding for basic mental health care ensures that they will always struggle
with the issues that brought them to their addictions in the first place.
Maybe I am stupid people to continue working

toward changes that can barelybe attained and likely won’t be sustained….

It’s been 6 months since I drew the black cloth across this mirror,
six months since my best reader took his leave,
moving on to a place where all that can ever be written has long been known.
And though it wasn’t entirely that loss which stopped my writing,
it is thoughts of him that move me to write again.
I heard an owl late last night, calling out into the darkness again and again.
Low and mournful, yet steadily.
No answer came, but the call continued until I fell asleep.
I woke up thinking about my friend; how he might hear the voice of that owl
and come up with a tale about destiny or faith, how he might connect all the tiny dots
between fact and fantasy to create a story full of meaning and enlightenment.
And I guess that's what I keep struggling to accept - that life is basically about each of us
making the daily effort to connect those dots, no matter how fragile,
reaching for enlightenment by creating our own meaning.
Calling out into the darkness whether an answer comes or not.

Autumn Day

Lord: it is time. The summer was immense.
Lay your shadow on the sundials
and let loose the wind in the fields.

Bid the last fruits to be full;
give them another two more southerly days,
press them to ripeness, and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.

Whoever has no house now will not build one
anymore.
Whoever is alone now will remain so for a long
time,
will stay up, read, write long letters,
and wander the avenues, up and down,
restlessly, while the leaves are blowing.

Rainer Maria Rilke

Farewell Fossil Guy,
I am so grateful you graced my life.