Wasteland.

Joanne Sibley watercolor print - She often paints the Caribbean area.

Wasteland (Almega Projects, 2010), a documentary largely conceptualized by artist Vik Muniz, is about trash and landfills in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. It's interesting in many ways because of Rio's focus on general cleansing (e.g. running gangs out of the slums) as they prepare for the 2016 Olympic Games. The documentary focuses on the people who work and survive on the landfills, recycling all of that which can be recycled (as Rio has no separate recycling pick-up services), and even using the food to feed themselves (in very impressive, and non-disgusting ways, I will add).

This film sat on my Netflix queue for ages, as it seemed like something I would like (i.e. it was about trash, and my fantasy destination: landfills!), but I never got to it. Every time I considered it, I felt depressed, and found something funny to do instead.

Eventually, I watched it. It was that moment, when you've been waiting to do something for ages, but just waiting for the right moment. And it was beautiful, full of real human experience and emotion, and the deep raw-ness of working with trash, of being trash, and what that means to a person's soul. It's a beautiful film, both emotionally and aesthetically. Philosophically, it brings the hidden secret world into view, and exposes it for the truth it truly brings to the world and the human experience: those who live off the landfill are the most beautiful people you can find.

I don't know if the experience of these filmmakers could be recreated across the world in other landfill worker colonies, but I'm glad that they took the time to really see the people they researched. They made something beautiful in a dirty, ugly place. They found beauty that was already there.

Hey you.

If you have a dog, you will most likely outlive it; to get a dog is to open yourself to profound joy and, prospectively, to equally profound sadness.

Marjorie Garber

Friday morning rant :)

I'm really struck lately by the number of people in the church-at-large, who find complete satisfaction in an individualistic faith that focuses on sin and personal development. Now, don't get me wrong, I am the queen of personal development. Personal development is great! Go get yourself a therapist! But please don't let that be the end. Personal development is for the world, for the needy and the broken. We work towards healing for ourselves so we can pass it on to others.

I'm so tired, just bone-drained tired, of this endless religious craziness in the US. I'm tired of people yelling about "traditional values". The Western church is now completely about my personal relationship with Jesus - my best friend, and how my life was changed, and how great I feel about myself. It's all about what my neighbor is doing wrong, how my neighbor is sinning, or causing me to sin, all about how frightened I am of where my country is going. I just want to scream, "Get a freakin' grip, people!"

I might be single forever (lest you forget that this blog is all about me finding a man), because I'm not willing to put "Jesus is my homeboy" on my eHarmony page. I might be single forever, but I'm not willing to live a life of family devotions and being a submissive invisible wife. I may be single forever, but I'm not going to buy into the idea that women should cover themselves up to keep men from sinning. It's 110 degrees out? Yup, I'm gonna wear shorts. Deal with it. You had a sexual thought about a person other than your spouse? Deal with it, and move on. I want everyone to collectively throw in the "personal sin elimination" card and just accept the fact that they're flawed and are going to do and say and think stupid things. Yup, you are. You're human. Deal with it. You think God agonizes about forgiving you? It's doubtful. There are, after all, seven billion people in the world, and they all need four hugs a day, so...you do the math.

Now go out there and do something that helps people, that doesn't involve a sign. Peace out.

Poor and marginal

The test of courage comes when we are in the minority.  The test of tolerance comes when we are in the majority.

 ~Ralph W. Sockman

I was really surprised by some of the comments I got about my landlording posts last week. I admit, I was not very organized in my thinking, and that may have made me come across as judgmental, and I don't like that. I want to affirm that people make mistakes and are not perfect. We are all human, and we all see things a bit askew from how they actually are (perhaps how God sees them). And our skewed views are okay to have. I think the problem comes when we aren't willing to extend a little grace to ourselves and perhaps admit that we might be wrong.

I think it's more important to be flawed and fallible than it is to know everything. I think it's more important to admit being wrong, and maybe not knowing everything, than it is to hold to one's convictions so as to never admit defeat or vulnerability.

I was raised with material possessions. If I made the choice, even today, I could go back to that life. I am poor because I choose to be. And of course, that has become more difficult than I expected it to be, but it's also better than I ever expected it could be. I left a life of plenty, because there was no love, no real unconditional love, and if I have to be poor and marginal for the rest of my life in order to be loved for who I really am, then I will work my darndest to be okay with that.

Peace out mofos :)

Menstruation! Periods!

Large cork placemats from Pimpernel - Made in England

So I personally hate the clutter of ads on blogs, and I don't see my blog as a marketing ploy, so I haven't signed up for any monetizing opportunities...until now. Today I signed up to be an affiliate on a menstrual cup website, and I've placed a friendly button on the right, under "My campaign to save the planet".

A couple months ago, I bought a cup in hopes that it would work for me, and allow me to radically decrease my personal waste. I get pretty offended by implicit suggestions that we as women should be scared or ashamed of our business, that we need someone else to take care of it for us. I've heard fear and disgust from so many people - it makes me sad :( There's nothing wrong with you, and there's nothing wrong with your body. Yeah, maybe I'll have a daughter someday and give her the "miracle of life" spiel, and then we'll all laugh at what a crazy hippie I am.

I am also VERY offended by those campaigns that tell people to buy sanitary napkins for women in Africa so they can go to school. When we place more importance on money than we do on human beings, we dehumanize people, and ourselves, in the process. I don't need to make any money off of the affiliate program. I just want to publicly support personal behavioral shifts that radically defy the status quo. Is that such a big thing to ask? I like to tell people things that they didn't know before. I like to be helpful.

Note: If anyone can affirmatively ding me for using that vintage ad as a button, let me know, and I'll take it down. Also, full disclosure, my deal is that if someone buys something through my page, then I get 15% of profits from the sale. If you think I should use the money for a particular cause, let me know in the comments :)

Thrift Share Monday :)

Vintage clip-on earrings - no signature, but aren't they awesome?

I am being really hard on myself right now. I usually assume that everyone thinks as poorly about me as I do about myself. I don't know that this is true. I've been told that it isn't. These moments (and I have them every once in a while) are full of comparisons to other people, and self-flagellation about not being A, B, or C when I reach age thirty less than two months from now.

Laurel Burch "Toucan" earrings - very fun :)

I wish I thought less of myself, as in, thought I was less important. But I was raised to believe that the world's emotional health was entirely dependent upon me, and that's a tough false belief to shake.

I just know that someone out there would love these, just not me.

When we thrift, like as a lifestyle, nothing is ever perfect. We may see it as perfect, but let's face it. Think of all the hands that touched it before you found it. How's that for perfection? I don't know why I allow everything else in my life to be imperfect, yet continue to expect myself to somehow rise above and defy gravity.

I suppose sometimes I imagine that other people need me to be perfect in order to keep loving me, and my love of thrift is my statement to the world that I will, in fact, never be perfect, and everyone just needs to deal with it. Now if only I could get my frontal lobe involved in this operation...

Linking up with Apron Thrift Girl :)

Single and in need

Oil + vinegar + seasonings = Homemade dressing

Are you married, or partnered? Is there a single (i.e. unmarried) person in your life that you love to love? If not, get one, and soon. The fate of single-kind rests in your hands. We are weak and unorganized. We tend to gather in groups, but real unity doesn't always stick. We need more stable entities to ground us, hold us to a neighborhood, a home. We need people who will stay even when that staying is not a civil agreement marked by the courts.

I don't know when I first started adopting families. I was probably about fifteen or so. I needed something that my own environment wasn't providing, and I looked far and wide for something boring to latch onto. I found that stable boring wonderful something in my best friend and her parents, who sat down every night at 9pm to have dinner together. I was always welcomed warmly, though I never had anything to give beyond my strong dish-washing abilities ;) Those moments helped me stay grounded in a chaotic world, and have served as a template for other families and other dinners.

Tonight, I shared one such dinner. We discussed pink slime and my current employment status. Many strawberries were eaten, and I had an extra helping of salad. It was wonderful because it was shared. I don't sit at home and cry when I eat dinner by myself. I enjoy silence quite a lot, and often long for it during the chaos of the day. But there are times, usually Saturday nights, when all I want is a family to eat dinner with. So thanks to all of my family friends, who welcome me warmly into their homes no matter what I'm wearing, or how much I monopolize the conversation.

What's up with that?

 

At my job, I can make one hundred good decisions, and generally just be my bad ass self, and then one bad decision, and suddenly, I'm a failure. Everything I've done for the past few days is for naught, and I should never be gainfully employed, and I suck suck suck.

What's up with that?

Forgiving ourselves: treating ourselves the way we'd want to be treated by other people, is a difficult thing indeed. I can't tell you how many times this subject comes up for me in conversation with other people. At least once a day, I have to explain that it is unacceptable for you (i.e. the person sitting in front of me) to demean yourself in my presence. Don't do it. It serves no purpose. It is never therapeutic for you to hate yourself. It will never do you any good, no matter how much you think about it. So knock it off.

Speech over. Peace out mofos.

Sometimes, I eat milk chocolate

 

This recent post by Katy over at "The Non-Consumer Advocate" got some heated responses, so much so that she shut down commentary on the post.

I myself have been the recipient of some pretty nasty online communication. It hurts when people are rude because they can be, instead of assuming the best and perhaps beginning some dialogue about their "negative" feelings. I think that people on Katy's blog were generally able to say how they felt, and the conversation was cordial and honest.

I talk about online manners a lot because I work online. Very, very rarely do I get to meet a customer face-to-face, or a reader for that matter, and I have learned time and again how important it is to be literal in one's communication, and kind above all else. Sometimes, it is even appropriate to anticipate problems and address them before they happen.

I admit that this week, I did not respond well to an online overreaction. I was curt and annoyed when someone took offense at something that was in-no-way meant to be offensive. But in the end, I am only reminded that I am also human, and often fail. Sometimes, I eat milk chocolate.

Did you know I love dogs?

I saved a dog's life this week. It was a big black Labrador, late at night. He was standing in the middle of a dark street. I was also walking a black lab, which was strange, so I let them sniff eachother. Then the male dog ran into the street and got hit by a car.

I screamed. The dog walked away like nothing had happened, but the sound of the impact convinced me that he had some sort of internal injuries. I figured if I left him behind on the canal, he'd run into the street again and get killed (he insisted on running in front of the cars-so scary), so I hooked him to my leash and tried to walk the two beasts together. That lasted less than a minute, so I just hollered at him every time he went near the street and he walked home with us. It was awful. Walking one beast is enough of a job. Worrying about the other dog just made my heart race faster. I was exhausted when I got them both home in one piece.

The dog slept with me, so as only to keep him from being shot by an exasperated neighbor in the backyard after he howled with sorrow from 12 to 5am. I didn't get much sleep, between the howling, and the sleeping with a beast. But it was all worth it. In the morning, my mom called animal control and thirty minutes later, the owner was at the front door.

I know it's a simple silly story, but I felt like a hero that night, and saving a life is good for the soul.

You need some love :)

 
1. Orphans
2. Widows
3. Aliens
4. Prisoners
5. Prostitutes
6. Homeless people
7. Mistresses
8. Foreigners
9. Prophets
10. Foster kids
11. Divorced women
12. Single people

Don't throw 'em away.

Vulnerability...the true monster

Love with your whole heart, even when there is no guarantee. Be grateful; to feel vulnerable is to feel alive. And always remember, you're enough.

Those are not easy things to do, so read that list through a few times before you walk away.

Bootstraps, anyone?

 

This story kills me.

People offer us love, and we deny it. People offer us help, aid, and we throw it away, saying we'd rather find it ourselves. I have an image of a toddler in my head, practicing the art of independence-"Do it myself!"

There's a TED talk on vulnerability I'd like to watch today and perhaps respond to tomorrow.

Sometimes I say "yes", when I want to say "no", not because "no" is the right answer, but because I know that I am resisting the love of another person, wanting to avoid attachment. Sometimes we need to accept the love that is offered to us, even if it comes in a form that is unpleasant (e.g. I give my neighbors meat even though I don't believe I should; I buy Hershey chocolate because the man that put up my shelves asked for it, even though I believe that they practice slavery). Sometimes I think we need to take more time to make decisions. Sometimes those decisions will end up bringing us closer together.

And we need eachother. Life is tough, remember?

Nothing you can own...

"And I realised, there is nothing, anyone can really own"

That's the line that made me post the song. I get more out of it every time I listen to it.

I have a friend who is going through an unbelievably hard time right now; and it just keeps getting worse, like a Peter Sellers movie where nothing goes right (e.g. The Party). I keep thinking that life is just about holding on, that we have no control over what happens, over what other people do. All we have is how we choose to respond to the shit in our lives that falls in droves from the sky.

Oh yeah, and suicide isn't an option, because it just kills more people and keeps the death spiral going. Sucks, don't it?

Life sucks. But at least it's long, right?

The pain can't last forever.

Have you ever felt debilitating emotional pain? Have you ever done everything in your power to then cover up or numb that awful feeling(s)? If so, you are not alone. And I am here to tell you that that numbing that you seek is perfectly understandable. Those terrible feelings are oftentimes the reason people attempt suicide. Sometimes those feelings do indeed feel worse than one imagines death could ever possibly feel. "Hell? This is hell."

So this is a shout out to all those who have felt those debilitating feelings of awful, unspeakable pain. You are not alone. Ride it out.

Someday the pain will end. It has to. It really must end at some point. I'm beginning to think that if I equate emotional pain with physical pain, I can begin to imagine that this awful feeling in my chest that makes me want to die is actually my heart healing from a horrific injury. It has been blasted, and now it is doing the difficult work of putting itself back together. I'm not going to pour salt into it by sleeping around and making it worse. I'm not going to start drinking excessively. Alcohol will only make it worse.

All of things we do to ease the pain only prolong the feeling(s). And in order to get over those feelings, we must FEEL them. We must do the awful, heartbreaking work of sitting with those feelings and waiting.

So wait, dearies. It will end. Someday, somehow, it will end.

World AIDS Day

 

AIDS is so huge, and hidden, that we often forget how real it still is, that people are still suffering and dying, that whole countries in Africa are essentially being run by an orphaned generation.

Please don't choose to be apathetic and helpless today. Please do something.

As I focus my own advocacy and support towards Mennonite Central Committee, I will point you in that direction. If you already have something in mind, please comment on this post. I would love to hear what you do to honor those who suffer, who have died, who have lost, and who struggle each day to fight against oppression and racism and indifference and ignorance to fight the evil of HIV/AIDS. Please know that the most populated countries in the world are those most at risk for total devastation (e.g. India & China).

Please don't give up on caring. It hurts, and it's difficult, but it also makes you human.

Costly, long-suffering, hope

After this weekend's horrible events in Northern California, I've really been struggling to hold on to my stringent peace position. I have made my life about the work of peace and justice in the world, and for the first time, I'm wavering. I'm beginning to understand those who call cops "pigs". I'm losing my grip on my own beliefs. When I see indifferent violence being carried out in my own world, to my friends, my brain gets fuzzy.

Please recognize that I know that there is horrific violence in the world every day. I know that in my being; I have known it my whole life. And short of banging on soft surfaces with my fists and screaming alone in an empty room, I am not a violent person. I don't believe in violence. I think it's silly, that we as a species would resort to harming one another to solve our problems. I actually don't understand it. I resist it in my very soul. But something changed inside of me when I saw that video on Saturday morning. Perhaps the door in my heart, that I'd shut long ago, had been opened, and I began to see that violence is not just something I hate, but something that is real.

This is not a naive experience for me. I was not born into my beliefs; I have had to earn them. And they have come at a very high price. Violence is real to me, but perhaps I've been looking at it with compassion all this time. I try desperately to understand the aggressor in every situation, to feel compassion for them, to find empathy for the pain that they must experience as a perpetrator, and then later as a survivor of that perpetration. But to see the indifference with which that cop calmly shook that can...my soul cannot contain it.

I wish that I could give you some kind of resolution to this issue (I myself have found a little here and here). I wish I could give you all the hope you need for your own life. That is my life's work. But today, I will fail you. I'm so very sorry.

Change for the better

 

Read this first. If you have time, after that, you can come back to me.

So I live in one of the most impoverished areas in the US. We actually have shantytowns. Yeah, they're small, and don't compare to any third world nation, but they're there, and they're real.

But add that to the startling heat of summer and unbelievably depressing fog of winter (the only two seasons we have some years), and the area doesn't appeal to the mainstream citizen (mostly the undocumented, if you really want to know). And why is this? Because we're lame? No! Because we began as a haven for sharecroppers and gypsies? Why yes! And it continues today (If you need background, just read Steinbeck's East of Eden).

So here we sit, a hole of depression and poverty; a big hole that sucks up all the smog from everywhere else. Yup. It sucks. So what are we going to do about it? Can we bomb all the prisons we house? Nope. Can we make everyone ride a bicycle everywhere? Too late for that (blame it on suburban sprawl). Can we make people happier? Probably not.

But we can do something: We can stay. We can commit. We can say "no" when we're pressured, both internally and externally, to flee the hell we grew up in. We can deny our human need for beauty elsewhere, dig our feet in, and fight for beauty here. We can choose to not ride the coattails of others and benefit from the creativity and vision of those who inspire us, and choose to be leaders here, in our own communities. We can choose the thing that has been thrown away by so many before us, that has been trashed by the media from coast to coast. Yeah, we're the Appalachia of the West. Do we succumb to that title, or do we defy it? Do we, as the educated thinkers and dreamers of our communities, leave behind the people and culture that have shaped us and made us who we are; or do we commit to returning the favor and reinvesting in our cities and towns who need people like us, people who care, in order to change for the better?

I choose to stay.

No one asked for this.

The following statements may make you shudder. I don't know you all that well, so please bear with me. This is a personal thing for every person, a decision that no one does or should make lightly. The decision is whether or not to have children, or more specifically bear children.

When I was a child, I learned about overpopulation, and it seemed like a perfect time for me to decide not to have kids. After all, from my experience, families weren't all that great, so I'd be doing myself and the rest of the world one big favor. Well, I was a kid, a kid without hormones. And now I am an adult, one big grown-up, and boy have things changed. Could I care about overpopulation? Not much.  I figure that a couple won't hurt anyone. But that's not true.

For every child that I bear on my own, I have to raise: feed, clothe, emotionally support, etc. That child, once brought into the world, is in it. They didn't ask to be, but they are, and it will be my responsibility to care for them. Now that's all well and good. I want children. I (hopefully) have the capacity to bear children; great. But just like my vocation, I choose my personal familial set-up based on a higher ethic. I do not only think of myself and my own needs when I bring a child/ren into the world. My faith informs me that I am not an island, and in knowing that, I lose the blasé attitude that what I do doesn't and shouldn't matter to anyone else.

There are children in the world who already need homes, and they aren't all in China, or Ethiopia, or Guatemala. They're around the corner from your house. They're living in a broken foster care system whose only hope is the faithful action of millions. It may not be a childhood dream of mine, but it's the reality I face as an adult. And right now, I'm not in a place to have a child, but when I am, this reality will weigh heavily on my decision.

You can read more here about people who make this same decision, but for other reasons.

For more information about foster-adoption in your area, search with your specific state or county.

We are never alone

"Jiddu Krishnamurti, one of the most revered spiritual teachers of [the 20th] century, once asked a small group of listeners what they would say to a close friend who is about to die. Their answers dealt with assurances, words about beginning and endings, and various gestures of compassion. Krishnamurti stopped them short. 'There is only one thing you can say to give the deepest comfort,' he said. 'Tell him that in his death a part of you dies and goes with him. Wherever he goes, you go also. He will not be alone.'"

Larry Dossey (The Sun,  Feb. 2006)