Transformation, and thriving on nothing more then grit.

Tonight's post is for me. If you read it and feel a connection then fabulous, but really, the grit is in my eyes tonight, it's in my teeth, and I am cranky.

This country, this amazing country -America, is one of the most beautiful on our planet earth.
But, we are a damaged, violent, conflicted people. We have no right to hold a moral compass in our hands, because we break it, usually on purpose, just to prove that we can.

The land of the free, and the home of the brave, is without integrity.
We are in the struggle of our karma and our dogma.
Many are lacking freedom, and I am not speaking of those who are rightfully imprisoned.
I am speaking of you and me.

I am talking about real freedom, not constitutional, not imagined, not legalese word jumble.

Freedom...the kind that allows you to transform your life, the kind you sometimes have to take, the ability to fill your gas tank, the ability to pay your rent, the ability to feed yourself more then fresh air, windy pudding, and grit. Our leaders are staggeringly belligerent in the face of our suffering. They are angry at "us" for daring to sound the alarms, for pushing them to listen to us; you know "us", as in, WE THE PEOPLE.

I don't know who will read this. I don't even care. I have twice this year born the stigma of shame that is homelessness. It could happen to any one of us now. It could happen to me again, but I will fight for my right to exist in this society.

I will hope, and pray, and fix my mistakes-and I will fight for my right to belong.
That is what grit tastes like. That is what grit feels like when it's in your eyes.
You can cry it out, but the taste... lingers.
I will transform my life, with or without help. I will cry the dirty tears until they run clean again. But the taste... long after 'this to shall pass', and the form my life is supposed to take -takes shape, I will show others what freedom looks like.

I will serve it to them on a plate. I will say, here "taste my grit".
The recipe was first written in the year 2000 but revised many times during the Bush Presidency.

The 2008 version is only for the strongest.
But, if you can stomach this, then you just might be able to show others what freedom looks like too. Cook it for yourselves tonight since rice and milk will soon be unavailable to most of us in the western hemisphere, cook up some sheer grit.

The transformation of this country counts on your being able to thrive on it.
So make it good. Make it count.

-Renee

Letting it come to the surface

Most of us have, a something, in our lives that we perceive as a threat. An inerrant something that we either haven't fully accepted or acknowledged. I believe this becomes an area of our lives that we study, try to make a project of.
We intellectualize it -make theory's or draw uncertain conclusions.
Like alcoholism, or gambling, or drug addiction.
I know people- so do you, who have made recovery a social endeavor,
as well as, a personal project.
Some people however, recover to a point, then (successfully) let it rest.
Thinking to themselves, "well now that I understand, I will just let it be".

I did this concerning my sexuality, and it shocks just the same.

It shocks, because, I can hear in my head...Oh, it's you again (sexuality)-Didn't I come to a conclusion on you? Are you sure I need to revisit? Didn't I agree to just let it be? I'm positive I have all the necessary information, and have done all the revealing I am comfortable doing.
I love my gay, gay, self. I am a Lesbian, Feminist, Wiccan, Mother.

End of self talk... acceptance is such a beautiful thing.

For me, my sexuality has been the project. I spent years trying to make believe it wasn't true. Then, finally accepting myself, I had to go about the the task of "outing myself" and untangling from a painful and false existence.

I am not the type to need neon signs-complete with blinking, pointing arrows- aimed at myself.


I've had no desire to advertise.
Much the same as when I was faking (abysmally) heterosexuality.

I just don't see the point of making a public display of my sexuality, my sexual nature, my sexual expression...my sexual orientation. I believe it is all private.

Well, I am right. And, I was wrong.
My privacy, and my need for it, are deeply seated aspects of my nature.

My writing is an attempt to bring all of us (humanity) to a deeper collective understanding of how fundamental honesty is to our understanding of self, and our connection to each other.

So, my privacy be damned.
It is a small thing in comparison to the atrocity of internal homophobia. And, I have some.

I thought I was "out" enough. I reasoned, I am keeping myself "safe" by only allowing those closest to me- friends and family- know that I'm gay. Is it really everyone's business? I've never thought so. I have never walked up to a stranger, or a friend, or a family member, and asked -so how is your straight sex life? I assume that if someone wants me to know, then they will offer me the information. I never asked, anyone, so, what's on your straight agenda?

Has sex, and sexuality become so base, so crass, that we need someone else's details to fill in the blanks of our own perceived threats?

I am a gay woman. I am I lesbian. I am a woman centered woman. I was born into this world with my orientation encoded into my DNA. I don't care if you like it.

But, I do care if I like it.
Sometimes, I have not.

Having someone point at me and tell me I am an abomination, because I am gay, is painful.

Telling it to myself, and not wanting to reveal my sexuality to the world around me, is far more painful and damaging.

So, I am going to wear the neon signs, complete with blinking arrows-pointed at myself,
because, it is my healing I'm after.
Because, I am not going to -let it rest.
Because, I intend to make a social endeavor of it.
This is my very personal project, and I don't care what you think about "it" or me.
I care however, how I think... I will not be threatened by my own nature, my own self.

So, if you want to be close to me, mind the neon, it's expensive to replace broken arrows.

...If you want to be close to me, then sit, I will pencil you into my gay agenda.

-Renee

The simple joy of loving life

My day has been light, and carefree. My concerns over finances and employment placed on the back burner. My national exam for massage therapy exists in the near future. Today I was blissfully in the moment, grounded and safe in the knowledge, that all will be as it should.

My worrying changes my breathing, and my ability to feel joy. I would have none of it today.

Worry robs me of a loving present. It robs all of us of a loving, connected present.
Today, I wanted my attention to be focused on those that I love dearly, on my breathing, and on giving and receiving joy-in the moment.
The bills will still be there.
The company I work for is going to abuse their power in this economy.
They will continue abusing their workforce.

My test is on my mind...but in my heart they do not sit.
My problems cannot have the place in my heart where love and kindness want to give and receive.

Give yourself a day like this.
Stop the world and make love. Roll some pennies and put a little extra gas in the car- drive just to remind yourself what freedom feels like.
Call a loved one, or a lover who is far from you, and find each other in the moment where time and distance cannot separate.
Then, love them well.

That is what I did today.
And my breathing is calm, quiet...my mood hopeful and gentle as I get ready to sign off the day.
Joy is a gift. It is blessing. Never forget that.

Blessed Be -Renee

Let me start by telling you about work

I work for a major retailer. Not the "BIG W", not the "little k" but there is a cute dog involved in many of my employer's visually stunning, expensive ads. I am also a woman in transition, 38 years of age, recently separated from a dysfunctional marriage, embarking on a new emotional/spiritual journey, just graduated from school-massage therapy.
I am ready to take -big bites.
However, because of this economy, I still work in retail to make ends meet. Which is funny really, because the ends aren't even in the same zip code- not even in the same neighborhood.
I am not sure how they can meet under these conditions.

Corporate America, is a purely driven entity. American retailers are the darling of the beastly corporate model. the "Big W" has a lot to do with the creation of our expanding working underclass in this nation.
But, the retailer with the cute dog in their ads has followed the "W" model.
Now, In the commercials we still see brilliance, and the shiny happy people.
People, who seem to have endlessly good taste. And, money.
But, most of the people who work in the stores, can't afford the merchandise being sold, which is shameful for two reasons. If the people who work for you can't afford your product or services then your deliberately underpaying them. And, most of the merchandise comes from countries, with appalling human rights violations. Why does this matter to me, a woman in transition, a woman on the edge of untold growth and acceptance into a higher stratus of American culture? Because, I have lived the devaluing of American business morals, and the undercutting of the American worker. I have lived it. I voted against it. I am vocal about the human cost, and the shame that comes from having to work for such a noxious entity.

The truth is when a major retailer buys merchandise from countries that have serious human right violations they (the company) continue to add to the abuse that creates lasting poverty in those countries, and drives many hard working Americans into poverty because the jobs that feed their families are shipped overseas.
We close factories here that produce well made products, because it costs more to make them here in this country, and because the American worker demands a decent lifestyle, and job security in return for well made products.

When the factories close many are forced to go to work at a lesser paid, less dignified, less secure service industry position, at one of these retailers. Now, I can tell you for sure how the cute dog, pretty commercial company is staying afloat during these tough times. They are cutting their work force, in the most insidious way, and they cut health care costs all at the same time.

At any given time there are new stores openings, new Managers (well paid) but the staff is barely getting 20 hours per week. Many fall below the hours needed to keep their health insurance. Many decided not to re-up their medical insurance, or their 401K's, because they needed the money back in their paychecks due to the painful slice in available working hours. Many in my store alone have become homeless, had homes foreclosed on, and have had vehicle's repossessed. The management continues to earn the same pay no matter what.
I find that almost criminal.

In this country some questions need to be asked and decisions need to be made.
Do we really want better, safer products?
Or is that just more American dissonance-we want it, but we don't want to pay for it?
Do we want to have our corporate entities be more socially responsible? Do we want cheaper at any cost? Do we realize the domino effect of our apathy, at not holding our elected leaders to task for allowing so much American business to be shipped to the lowest bidder. Are we our brothers keepers? I mean that in the most global sense.

It costs a lot of money to make the pretty commercials, and to fly the corporate officers around the globe, for the opening of another strikingly beautiful store.

It costs big money for the benefits packages- of the few, while the benefit packages of the many- disappears.

In harsh economic times like these. Should the CEO'S have to part with some of their outrageous salaries to ensure the working class isn't driven below the poverty line by company policy? I want to know what you think. I invite a response.