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October 17th, 2008; 2:24 AM
Current mood:stressed

Nothing in life is a victory. It is all such defeat.

I had the begginings of such a beautiful day. How can life be so hard? Why is it so horrible? I try every day. But it is a series of defeats. I think to myself, that it is of utmost importance that we are kind. That I am kind to myself and others. And then I find myself walking down Sonoma Avenue with my mother, just trying to get her to walk to the bus station, thinking that it will be such a victory, if we can take the bus. If we can make our way in the world without a car and still be fine. But I feel horrible. I feel horrible. My poor mother doesn't know what's going on. She doesn't understand. She's scared and tired. And she seems on the verge of an attack. We keep stopping so that I can hug her and she can lean on me. And each time she says "thank you" and it breaks my heart to be here. I don't want to be here. I hate this life. I hate all of this. I hate making things so hard on my mother. And I don't want to. I want to have things be gentle and peaceful. Soft and nourishing. Comforing and safe. But instead my/our lives are hard. They are filled with daily challenges and stresses. Assaults of the senses come from all over in unexpected ways. I find myself hating people. Holding people in disdain. We sat on a bench, waiting for the bus. And a woman who just made my brow furrow and hackles raise came out from a sleazy apartment. She was fat, round, and barefooted, with greasy stringy hair. Her voice was husky; an acumulation of years of smoking, phlem, and the thick layer of bacon-fat around her neck, choking off her carotid arteries. Her corpulent body came up, a bit too close to us. She made furtive eye contact, and laughed. I could hear the layers of mucus pushed aside by her breath. "I was coming out here to smoke." I didn't mean to, but I know my face betrayed my feelings. -I glared back. She seemed jovial enough, but still untrustworthy. I had seen her type before. Section 8. She was not cut of the same cloth as my first Section 8 tenant. There are not many Maisha's in the world. Maisha swayed me. She was wonderful. Hard working, a dedicated mother, and a full-time college student. A strong woman. Someone that I admired. There was no crime in being poor. It was just a moment in life. One that I was sure she wouldn't stay in. Someone that great was destined to rise. But every Section 8 tenant after that has been like this barefooted thing. Destructive, uneducated, shifty, and pressing in my personal space. I did not want to make room on the bench for her to sit and smoke next to us. There were so many things about that that annoyed me. Why the fuck should I let you poison me and my already sick mother with your stupid cancer sticks??? My mother and I pressed on. I felt so bad for making her walk such a long way. I left my mom holding onto a tree. I told her not to move. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back. Please, just stay right here."

"OK."

I walked swiftly to the nearest ATM and withdrew some cash. As I walked back to my mom, I waved to her from down the block, so that she could see that help was coming. I wasn't going to make her take the bus. Clearly she can't do that. It's too much for her. We might try again with a wheelchair. But it's too much for her right now. -Probably ever. My mom was not meant for this life. She was meant for far better things than this hard place. I found myself thinking that if I could, I would buy an island and go far away from this dirty, scary, and strange place. I would grow my own food organically. And we would sit in the sun, letting it soak into our bones and comfort our souls. The warm breeze would wash over us, and the lul of the gentle Carribean waves would relax us, and sweetly, we would drift off to sleep. We would read, and think, and be. That is my ideal life. Hermitish isn't it? I'm strange in my own way.

I ushered my mother into another taxi. The 2nd ride of the day. I should have called the first company. But instead I opted not to wait, and to grab one off the street. -It was a mistake. The car was strange and stressfull. It was an old police cruiser that someone had made into a taxi. The locks were removed from the back seats, so instead of feeling like I was safe, I felt somewhat trapped in a menacing way. They hadn't removed the lights from the side of the car and the silver handles inside kept catching my eyes. I wondered about all of the criminals that had tried evading police, only to be searched out by these little chrome plated hand-maneuvered lights? Our driver looked like a junkie. This was my karma today. Junkie karma! I think it was a girl...but could have been a boy? She was very emaciated. The bones on her cheek protruded, and the sinews attaching her head to her neck were very prominent. She had a darkish red/purply rash on her neck. And what looked to be track marks. I figured it was worth it to make my mom happy. Just get her home safe. That's all I care about. This person was so young. She did not look like she would outlive even my mother. Now that I am home...I do not think that that was a ligitimate taxi. I think they just "did it." She ripped me off too. I knew the distance was far less than the first taxi we took today. And she charged me just as much. I gave her a twenty-dollar bill, and she didn't have change. "Do you mind getting paid in quarters?"

"Don't worry about it. Keep it. Thank you for the ride. We really appreciate it." We got out as quickly as possible. My mom had a horrified look on her face, when she couldn't get her buckle undone. I think for a minute there she was worried that the taxi cab driver would leave with her still strapped in. I leaned in and unfastened her, and helped her to the sidewalk. I was glad to be home. Home sweet home.

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I just wanted to comment a bit on *kindness* I felt a dearth of kindness in me today. I had an utter lack. I wanted it. I tried repeatedly to rally. But I was just exhausted and assailed by things, places, and people who brought out my stone-wall rather than my kind warmth. I get that in moments like today, it is especially important not to lose one's better self, and to be kind no matter what challenges you are presented with. My kindness ebbed and flowed. I feel bad for asking more of my mom than what I would have, had life been turned back 10 years from now. We were so much more affluent, and so much more protected and innocent. I used to drop off my mom and my grandmother at the door. I would park as close as possible and patiently escort them to their destination. I took *care* -real care of my loved ones. And I am not in a position to do that right now. I am doing the best I can. Taking the best care I can. But it is uttter failure. And I need to find my cheerfullness. I need to find a way through all of these challenges and rise to the occasion. And most importantly, I need to be kind in the process. I need to be gentle with my mom. She is precious to me. She deserves better than taking the bus, walking, and having junkie-driven-illicit-taxi-cab-rides! I need a car. She needs protection. Additionally, I wish my medical insurance covered her. All of this would be so much easier. It seems like it should and yet it doesn't. She is like my child now. My ward. I must protect and provide for her. And yet with all of this responsibility, my insurance doesn't extend to her. -My blood. Ain't life a peach? Anyhoo...back to kindness. I need to be kind in thoughts and actions. Most importantly to my mother, for she is so weak and tender that she cannot withstand the harshness of much of the outside world. I need to remember that. Just because I can, does not mean she can. I feel so bad for forgetting that. And then 2ndly for trying to push through it. That was not a time to push through, it was a time to just stop and pay for a cab no matter how hard things are financially. I also need to be kind to me. I beat myself up so much in my head. I need to imagine if I would let anyone talk or treat a child that way (NO!) ...so why would I do that to myself??? Why would I talk so negatively to myself? Or not be gentle with me??? And lastly...with others...like the cab driver, or the lady who wanted to smoke, or the Section 8 peeps... I need to not be such a hater...and be kind. Just be kind. I have such a hardness about me when I am faced with serious drugs. I don't usually consider myself very judgemental about things like this. I think pot should be legalized, and certain drugs could be safely used in a recreational sense, and also should be legal. But then there are things like Meth, Cocaine, Heroine...and that sort...which I just think of as vile, wreched, dirty, skanky, and dangerous. I have a zero-tollerance policy for those drugs or the people who chose to do them. I wish they didn't exist (the drugs). I just see how destructive they are and how people lose the connection to their family, themselves, they lose their health, and leverage all sorts of things that shouldn't be placed in jepardy ever...like their bodies, homes, children's safety, relationships, etc. etc. Part of my strong reaction is because I feel so exposed and vulnerable right now. I come into contact with drug addicts weather I want to or not. They're not my friends. I don't invite them into my home. But they are in the world. And contact is inevitable. And my position in life has much LESS insulation that I am accusomed to. I never knew how protected I was before. So I have a particularly hard time with this right now. I wish I could just get in my car, lock the doors, roll up the windows, and drive away. Basically be safe. And I feel a bit too open to the world right now and whatever yahoo happens my way. I don't like that feeling. I need to create that safe refuge (of a car) for myself, just so that I have a little extra to give to others...so that I am not so contemptfull. It would be horrible to be someone who say...had all of my problems...but then on top of it was so fucked up and addicted that they didn't even notice and  had a drug addiction ruling their life. I should have compassion not repulsion. Anyhoo...I'm working on manifesting the love here. I really am. And I'll try to be kinder in the future. -Seriously!