This is my theme song, it is an accurate reflection of who I am; India.Arie – Better People 

This is what I have to say to you; Gil Scott Heron – Message to the Messengers

and this is why: Donny Hathaway To Be Young, Gifted And Black

You matter to me, let us converse. Comments are open, you may borrow my pen.

These incidents speak to the level of dis-ease in the community. I experienced this phenomena in service at my last residence in Sheppard Square. Young women, publicly expressing their anger in unhealthy ways, in the presence of their children. First teachers instructing the next generation, often with the support and assistance of their mothers. Not rarely, their mothers were the target of their rage. Not enough times did I see seasoned mothers step in, take control of the situation and restore order, if not peace. Therefore, the job was left to the police and the funeral homes. The first group I would call into conversation would be mothers, young and old. We all desire the same thing, our children to grow healthy and strong and become productive members of society, how do we get it, together? Though they rebel, now is not the time to release authority over our children. Our children are angry and we have a responsibility as mothers, as women, as culture bearers to find out why. Our children are in need of critical care! Who better than we mothers to begin the healing process? Merely a point for consideration.

I hope you will join me here at MobileMeditation.org, regularly, as I create the life I desire.  I’m off to finish packing.

Help me grow as a writer by leaving your comments, please.

You know how bad things are in my life right now. You are present and witness to the extreme insanity. You know the facts, . . . all of them. You can name the actors, their roles and judge their performance however you choose. You also bear witness to my reaction. You feel my pain. Bad things happen to good people all the time, it is a way of this world. You cannot always prevent or avoid negative experiences created by others or escape the pain you create for yourself. As a woman, you must tolerate unexpected circumstances and chaotic conditions beyond your control. It really doesn’t matter what happens in this life, good or bad, what matters is how you respond to it.There are as many unhappy and stingy rich folk as joyful and generous poor people in this world. You are free to choose who and how you will BE, always.

You can collapse in fear; rage in anger; whine in sympathy; complain in pain; or .   . . figure out what action you can take to change your own circumstance. That is my choice. I have tried all the other options and they did not work out to suit me, personally. Determining to change my circumstance gives me some power in my life. I choose to do something. Sometimes that action could be as simple as sitting down, shutting up and going inside to get the help you need. Sometimes that action is opening your mouth and telling the whole truth of what is going on and asking for help. Admitting you don’t know what to do and asking someone to point you in the right direction. I did say figure out what action you can take, not talk about, not think about, DO! Be conscious that it is something different than what you are currently doing. If you have been talking, Be quiet; your answer might be in the listening. If you are busy running around trying to change something, stop. Be still. Stay where you are for a moment, consciously, and see if the solution is in your immediate environment. If not, move carefully, at a different pace or in a new direction. If you are still, move. Be active. Get up, get out seeking different, if not the final answer. Simply, Be about changing the circumstance. If you determine you cannot change the circumstance, as often happens in the real world, change your response to it. Change how you look at the situation. I got tired of complaining and shut up. I was feeling defeated and powerless, I determined to take action and reclaim some power. Even if I fail, at least I can honestly say to myself that I did my best and gave it my all.

Any journey is made easier when you have a plan. I have a definite plan. In writing. I know why I am doing what I am doing because I have a goal. I have an action plan. Yes, I get distracted and often lost. But I also have a map that makes sense to me to guide me back to my path. I am lost and distracted right now. But having a plan to refer back to keeps me from giving up. It keeps me from crumbling under the pressure. My plan for Nyleve’s Haven and my personal life keeps me from feeling defeated when the world says no. My action plan keeps me from expressing all the rage I feel when simple people act in simple ways and make my life more difficult. My plan keeps the insanity of life from blocking the blessings I know are on the other side of this chaos. My  plan makes some of this drama make sense. A big dream should have major obstacles to overcome. I will so appreciate all I accomplish, after what I have been through. It also increases the level of service I will extend because I have intimate knowledge of why it will truly matters in someone’s life.

So darling daughter,  you know the questions are coming .  .  .         Wait for it  .  .   .

Are you pleased or at least comfortable with your current circumstance?

What action will you take this year to change your current circumstance?

Do you have a written plan for the next 2 years of your life?

How will you know if you are on task, say,  in June?

Have you completed an action plan?

I am amazed that any human could walk into that apartment, see the condition, realize there are children present and do nothing. I find it hard to believe that any adult with the authority to change the situation would just walk away. I witnessed four people do so. I am not asking or expecting any favors, but a healthy environment for children should be a given in this country at this point in history. Especially when the environment is provided by my government. This experience feels like a twilight zone moment. Crazy. But is true. And things like this happen over and over to many in this country who happen to be poor.

This is a difficult passage. I must hold on to the belief that there is a break-through blessing headed my way. I have to hold on to the possibility that this will all work out for my highest good. Otherwise, I would simply collapse and never get up again. I began this journey to show my daughters and other women that there is another way. I intended to demonstrate that you can create the life you desire and be healed, healthy and happy. At the moment, I am healed from past pain, my health is being threatened, and I am so unhappy. Will I give up? Nope, I can’t, my daughters are watching me, they need to know we are not weak stock. They need to see that believing in yourself is a wise choice. I believe in me and my ability to change my circumstance. At this moment, I have no idea how this is going to work out or even when, I just know it will. I know that my dreams will manifest. I know I can create the life I desire, because I know I will not surrender to any other option – no matter what. If I don’t make it, it won’t be for the lack of effort.

This experience is so intensely horrible, and became so, fast! Two weeks ago it as though the building just gave up. “Okay. I quit, you are going to tear me down, so I quit being a building that provides safe refuge for humans.” I am sitting here, in a office chair, wrapped in a large, warm comfortable blanket given to me by a mother, a kind person. The gallery of photos shows the condition of this apartment.

http://www.dropbox.com/gall…

No human deserves to live under these conditions. I am not in the mood to argue, fight or protest. I simply want out. And into a comfortable, safe, healthy environment for myself, my daughters, my grandchildren. I feel entitled to it. I have earned the right to live as such by being human. I have done no wrong. I feel punished because I am classified as poor. If I had money, I would not be sitting here now. The people who created the condition that I must live with, are sleeping in comfortable beds tonight and I know it. Do I wish they were here with me? No. I would not want this for someone I hated and I mean that. I don’t have any feelings towards those individuals, I don’t know them. I see no point or purpose to anyone else having this experience. I don’t see the point for me. I simply want it to end, so that I may return to the normalcy of working on my degree.

I must return to class, on Monday, the 2nd, while waiting for the meeting that will decide if the electricity bill will be taken care of so that I may move into a normal apartment. An electricity bill I found out about on Tues of this week. A bill for $1,091.53. It is on my credit report, and must be cleared before I can be approved for the apartment I applied for. If I had $1100.00 in my checking account, savings account, or the combination of both, there would have been no problem. But I am poverty stricken and do not have it. I do not have a phone number, email address or person that I can make contact with and ask for $1,091.53. The very most I could bring myself to ask another person for in cash is $20.00. Whatever that says about me, it is my truth.

I have every intention of making sure that the bill is cleared because it is in my name, on my credit report and directly effects me. The date of the charges are from 2005. I do not have any documentation to verify my residence for that time period, I was homeless. I will have the $ to pay the bill, in full, . . . in March.

I must move, right now. There is a 2 year old male child and a newborn female spirit in this apartment. A two year old trapped in one room of this apartment due to the water on the floor and the mold in the corners! The living room is the only dry room and the boxes we have packed are also sharing the space. This is so crazy, it seems unreal. We are all feeling the effects of the bad air. I am having allergy symptoms as I do in the spring. A grandgoody with a runny eyes and nose,  coughing constantly, yet he has no cold. This experience is a nightmare! It is 2:50am and I am so sleepy. The idea of sitting in this chair for the rest of the morning is depressing. That green mold covered couch is the loveseat I slept on. It is now too damp. (It, along with my bed, was originally soaked by the burst pipes last month. I got rid of the bed and kept the loveseat because I had to have somewhere to sleep.) Mother and children are on the couch in the living room. I don’t know the words to describe how I really feel as a mother, a woman, a human.

 I realize that this is all the result of the choice I made to not stay in public housing. I remain determined not to relocate to another public housing unit after being displaced by the HOPE VI project. Had I accepted that as an option I would already be relocated. That option is not conducive to my ultimate goal, which is to graduate from college and obtain my freedom from any government assistance. I intend to be self-sufficient. And I desire a safe, healthy, comfortable environment to work towards that end. I desire the consideration of the individuals who have the authority to act to assist me in making that happen. I don’t need promises, I need action. Now.

The short version of an ongoing story is: The apartment complex’s management went from ministerial to corporate. My lifestyle choice went from a service to the community to violation of the law. The words above came from the new manager. As a professional in the community, I understand his perspective, he was doing his job. My perspective – the opportunity was presented to serve a dynamic and powerful young woman with amazing untapped potential, making unhealthy choices, based on past wounds. There was something I could do to help her. There was a four year old little girl in need of safe haven in stable environment, with no compromise of dignity to her mother. There was something I could do to help her. It seemed the right thing to do, based on how it felt, deep inside. I had the resources to extend basic human comfort to children and did so. I treat my daughters, from other mothers, as I pray the daughter of my body would be treated, in my absence, should she have the need. I am called to mother. It is not just what I do, it is a reflection of who I really am. This was my chance to define who I would be in the world. Would I stand by the choice I made four and a half years before? There really was no choice for me. I open my life and home to those in need as a reflection of who I really am. If I were to allow those who come to me to walk away, knowing they have no where else to go, I could not sleep peacefully. I do what I do because I am called, by the God of my understanding, to do so. That is a major part of my definition of my self, and now I had to prove it.

My lifestyle choice, Nyleve’s Haven, is my attempt to create an environment where young women will be safe, if only for a hug, a meal or a night. The government defines what I do as providing transitional housing and offering supportive services. Lot of fancy words for what I consider as a re-mothering process. I spent and spend my time, energy and resources loving those who feel unloved and unlovable, listening to those who feel unheard, feeding those who are hungry and connecting wounded people to healing places. The choice to live in service led me to spend more than a year in this city, homeless. In that time, I experienced life in an extended stay motel; a homeless shelter; on the floors of those I had previously served; on the couches and in the spare bedrooms of friends and fellow advocates; on the floor of a church basement and a few nights walking the street.

Homelessness was for me an experience. It was not a statement of who I am, nor the consequence of any addiction, except to service; not an indicator of my ability, nor a symptom of any dysfunction. The choice also led me to Spalding University. What I learned from the experiences of having no permanent residence has made me a better servant. I still live with the reality of circumstances created by poverty. I am attempting to do so peacefully. And help someone along the way.

Another reason for committing to regular posts is to practice honesty. The simple truth of my life at present: I have not been active in any regular Spiritual practice, for a while now. When I entered my authentic Spiritual relationship, I meditated regularly. I maintained a direct connection that fed not only my spirit and mind, but also my body. Money and resources simply flowed, easily, as needed. The Universe really did take care of me in amazing ways with little or no effort on my part. Bills were Divinely paid, and I have witnesses to these holy experiences. Food and other resources appeared in abundance and my time and energy were free to simply serve. All I needed was available and I had enough to share. I spent the greater portion of my days with an attitude of gratitude.

My life now is not as I please, in very important ways. I do not have the resources to serve comfortably. I have fallen into the habit of going to Spirit when I need answers or direction, primarily in supplication. I think about God’s presence in my life often but rarely in appreciation. I am not living as I council others to do. I am allowing this HOPE VI process to drain my energy in unhealthy ways. I feel a heavy sense of insecurity. I feel off balance and disconnected. I notice that I have been complaining, a lot. Too much. I do not like the way I am handling the conflict in my life.

What I would say to a daughter who came to me with the same concerns? This is where the honesty comes in, am I going to listen to myself? Am I going to act on the word heard? Am I going to publish this post?

This I believe:

Whatever you declare in your life, the opposite will always make it self known. Declare a peaceful state of being and the dramas of life will begin to stand out. Declare prosperity and the evidence of poverty will become immediately apparent. Declare cleanliness and notice how the dingy points of life seem to jump out at you. Where you focus your attention will grow and manifest in your life. You are free to notice the dramas, the poverty or dirt in your life and return to the state of being you originally chose. Awareness does not have to be adaptation. I do not have to allow the decisions of others to affect my health or sense of security. I feel unbalanced because I am. I am disconnected from my Source, because I have not returned to my practice of regular conscious connection.

That was a hard few sentences to commit to type. Because it may be seen by others and it is true, of me. I can continue to complain, make excuses, sabotage myself and my life plan or I can BE STILL!!! Sit down. Shut up. Be, Still. I know the benefits, I will feel so much better, make better choices, I will be a better servant. My life will be better, it always is in Spirit’s hands. Sooooooooooooo, why am I still typing? Because surrender is not easy in the heat of life. What I need to commit to is returning to a regular, consistent daily connection. What is called for is complete release and surrender to the God I say I believe in, regularly and often. Not think about it, not talk about it, not write about it, not plan it, do it.

Social Workers and Case Management

The underlying belief of dysfunction is irritating. I am where I am because of a conscious decision I made to live my life in service. I am not incapable of making sound decisions, I do not need assistance setting or meeting goals, I have a plan for my life that does not include dependency. I have no dysfunction that social services can assist. Any assistance I need will come from a spiritual source. I have no money, at present, and a meeting with a social worker will not change that fact.  The very thought of case management pisses me off because it slows down my process. This is what I wish I could say instead of going to the meetings they have planned for residents, trainings as they call them.

• Don’t laugh at my dreams!!!!!
• Don’t give me what you think I need, give me what I ask for and leave me in peace, or leave me in peace.
• Don’t call me into a meeting, the questions I have won’t take that long. I don’t like meetings, even the ones I get paid to attend.
• You do not have the authority to schedule my time, so if you want an appointment with me, call me and ask me when I am available.  Better yet, save time and postage, email me. I would rather meet with you in an office setting, having to meet with you in my apartment for your assessment purposes is offensive to me.
• When I come into your presence, don’t talk down to me, simply give me the information I need to make wise choices. I have no desire to work within or correct the system. I feel it should be changed but that is not my call nor concern.  I am a competent, capable adult who can manage large chunks of information easily, so when I ask a question, give me a full and complete answer, no matter how complex you may believe the data to be. I’ll figure it out and ask questions, you will know if I become confused, I’ll tell you. Otherwise, assume I understand standard english when spoken.
• And stop acting surprised when I offer intelligent, well reasoned responses to your utterances to me. I come from educated and professional stock, so it is no surprise that I sound as though I may have read a book or two. Don’t let my zip code fool you. Where I am now, has little to do with where I came from or where I am going.  If you limit your contact with me to my advantage, it won’t matter one way or the other. I won’t be around long enough for you to consider  your prejudices.

This HOPE VI process is disturbing my personal peace and I do not like it one bit! I am so eager to stand on my own, not dependent on this silly system. I will be free, soon. So, help me, God.  I do not like the way I am being treated. Therefore I write.