One's Purpose in Life

I read once a book called "Voices of Our Ancestors" by Dhyani Ywahoo. In it she said that each person had to figure out why they were here. She suggested looking at ones talents and as I get older, I have also looked at what things keep happening in my life. What is easy to do that I keep doing?

The "problem" about this is that one's purpose in life may Not be what one Wants it to be. Native peoples of N. and S. America, had rituals of differing kinds to find out early in their lives what their purpose was. Also, in smaller groups and less technological cultures, parents and especially elders watched young people carefully, for the purpose of nourishing their gifts. These things don't happen in our dominant, post-industrial culture very much.

But I think I have finally figured out why I am here. I'm a bit behind traditional Cherokee people, who are believed to become fully mature adults at age 51. I am 55.

What I Want to do is run a tiny business, creating OOAK (one of a kind) original clothes for dolls. I want to sell these dolls for a price low income and middle income parents can afford, and I want a believable story to go with each doll. It is also important to me that the dolls I sell come from all kinds of ethnic and religious, and non-religious backgrounds. I never seem to run out of clothing designs or stories.

BUT, what I am Meant to do is to help people in many differing ways, who are willing to work for their Own benefit. It might be encouraging a very bright person to go back to college, talking about it with them. It might be helping someone trying to overcome past trauma from abuse. It might be teaching Braille free of charge. It might be offering informal counseling, or connecting people to the right resources. It might be writing about how we can donate relatively cheap, healthier foods to a food pantry.

I'm not aware of a particular name fo what I do. It's a combination of social work and teaching. But whenever I begin having too much time to sew or to spend by myself, someone always comes along who needs something I can give. Sometimes it is food, sometimes something less tangible.

But in Each case the person is doing their Own emotional work. All I do is be a friend in the best way I know how. Don't misunderstand, I'm not saying I am always successful, or great at anything, but I seem to be a good support person for those I know. And being, as Ann and I were, a transportation hub for things to travel through to those who need them is part of this job.

This is really a personal journal entry which probably Doesn't belong online. But it Is something I would have discussed with Ann, if she were alive here. And that is why I started this blog in the first place.

I did not have any sudden revelation or grand experience in realizing why I'm here. But I was told about some affordable apartments by one friend and happened to be talking to another who needs to move and is paying more for her one bedroom apartment than the two bedroom ones I'd just learned about cost. Someone called me needing tolearn Braille mathematical symbols. This person has been through awful medical problems and is wondering why They are here, as they had always wanted to get married and have kids. We ended up talking a long time. This individual's disability has effected their social life, including dating and marriage to a large extent.

So within one day these two small things happened, I will be teaching (as well as I can) Braille math symbols and rules, and hopefully providing emotional support to someone who is bright and willing to work for themselves. As I look at my life, I see that Something like this happens nearly every day. Some relationships I have are based on my willingness to give. Others are mutual, where I receive assistance as well. I will spend part of Christmas day with a friend who is in a difficult emotional place, but who gives back and whose company I enjoy. We will eat mostly junk, talk and laugh when we can, and pretend it isn't Christmas. I am glad to have a Friend to hang out with, since Ann will be gone.

I hope this makes sense, I think I know why I'm here, though it isn't why I Thought I was here or what I had planned.

Today was a day off, did hours of hand sewing (I do this better than machine sewing) cooking soup with cooked beans donated by a friend, and reading (audio) Harry Potter book. But tomorrow I'll be hanging out with someone.

I think sometimes a person's job is to Heal themselves, and in that process, to help others in various ways. It doesn't fit this culture well, or our outward plans, does it? f

Native American dolls WHERE?

For Months now I have been searching for a Native American doll which a blind child can play with! Ain't none, at least, Not so Far. Most of the Native American or "Indian" series Barbies (2 different series) don't look Native American. And the doll I'm looking for would, ideally be larger anyway. It's kind of Hard to hug a Barbie, hard plastic, and too small if you are over 4 or so.

The problem I keep running into is, new paint job, SAME FACES! Ok, it saves the company money, I get it, but Really! My doll expert who has been Incredibly patient has helped me look through Amazon, (lots of cute Native babies there, even one with an older face.) American Girl, Out of the Question money wise, Hearts for Hearts Girls, (contributing to the charity World Vision) Paradise Galleries, (beautiful face sculpts, but hair can't be handled much or brushed at all, upper arms and legs are sometimes wire covered with stuffing and cloth, could break if moved too much) Journey Girls, (good substitute for American Girl for about one third the price, except that price has gone up $5 or more this week for Late Christmas shoppers. No Native Americans and the Same Basic Face Shape, but different hair.) So far, the Only possibilities are at Dolls Like Me, and Maybe Ebay, but they need a good eyeballing from the patient pro. Oh, I've also checked BFC Inc. (Best Friends Club, Inc.) large dolls. No Native Americans, but two differing face shapes. Karito Kids, a doll from Mexico, no Native dolls.

Of course, the reality is that all Kinds of people have Native ancestry. There are Latino Native Americans, African American Native Americans, European looking Native Americans, and Asian American Native Americans, and every other kind of Native person I may have left out. What I am looking for is a minimum 13 inch, maximum 22 inch doll whose Native ancestry shows, as in dark, mostly straight hair, a skin tone somewhere in the medium range, and a pair of dark hazel, or brown eyes. Ideally, the doll would have a face in which Some Native ancestry showed, and it Could be Played With by Touch!

Carpatina has a doll they call a "Japanese school girl" with auburn hair and hazel eyes, hu? And this doll looks, according to both the pro doll expert And Dolls Like Me, like a racially mixed person with some Native ancestry. She may be my choice, or a "multi-ethnic" Corolle doll who looks like a Native American, Pacific Islander, Southeast Asian, (she could pass as any of these) according to Dolls Like Me, a cool site. This doll is a bit small at 13 tall, but she may have to do.

I noticed an interesting thing while doing this search. There are NO Native American Boys or Male dolls. I remember the author Vine DeLoria, Jr. (Standing Rock Sioux) who wrote "Custer Died for Your Sins" and many other books, writing that Native men were viewed as wild animals, wild life, and therefore dangerous. True in dolly land. There are some dancing Native male action figures but Coco`um is the only Native male doll I have seen who has been allowed to grow beyond 6 inches tall. From the statics onasaults on Native women by non-Native men, I think we can Guess what Native Girls are thought to be.

And people wonder why there is a "self-image problem" among Native kids?

AbAnndoned

Living in the air, I fear falling.
My life has no roots anymore.
There are sighted people in the dark whom I can't see.
There are sharp-eared people in the night whom I can't hear.
You had my back, no it's bare.
If I shout for help, no one's there.
But most I miss the Feeling of your presence,
Your voice, your hands, your laugh, the times we shared.
The absence of Ann leaves me abAnndoned.

Comfort Books

In order Not to have more comfort foods than I Do, I substitute dolls, and books. Ann and I read the Harry Potter series in audio because, of course, there was a major effort to ban these books from some local libraries. Ban a book, you make people Want to read it to see Why! And although a comentator on the BBC stated that he just Couldn't understand What an adult could see in these books, Ann and I enjoyed them thoroughly. They are full of normal kid behavior to make one laugh, as well as good basic concepts, what helps us face fears, when something good is accomplished, a sacrifice is usually made by someone, NO, Not a Blood sacrifice, get a grip. They also demonstrate how kids' friendships change over the years and how these difficult changes can be dealt with. Lessons like, you can be driven mad by your desires for the future and forget to live today, are also there. Besides, I had a house parent at blind school who reminds me Very much of Delores Umbridge, a Great name for the type.

My two comfort series are quite different. I wish the last book in the Harry Potter series had been divided into two books, with more detail. But it is what I think of as my "kid comfort series." And J. R. R. Tolkein's "Lord of the Rings" trilogy is my "teenage comfort series." Ann Loved the beauty of Tolkein's Elvish, and so do I. I love parts of his "The Sylmarillion" (Sorry, never read thi title in Braille) not just for the interesting mythology, but for the beauty of the language!

So right now, as this depressing Christmas draws near without Ann's presence to share it with, I'm sewing and rereading " Harry Potter" series whenever I get the chance. a Comfort book and pleasant activity, whenever I get the chance.

The Dreamer and the Dream

The Dreamer and the Dream

One thing I love about good Science Fiction is the way it plays with ideas. When Deep Space Nine was airing Ann and I tried not to miss it. But I must have missed this one. The writing for that show is so Consistently Good it Still amazes me!

I cannot tell you the name of the episode, as that is flashed across the screen or written in print, (not my language) on the box.

But I will tell you About it. Guessing from the music, it was set in the 1940's or possibly the 1950's in a large city, possibly Harlem, though it might have been any large city with a segregated African American community. I don't know where that era's Sci. Fi. Pulp fiction was published in magazine serial form, but it was a city which had such a publisher.

Captain Benjamin Sisco of Deep Space Nine is in the middle of what feels like a Hopeless war with a superior enemy force which seeks Total Control of All of our quadrant of known space. He has just lost Another good friend, a ship's captain and his crew to this foe who would make all subservient to them or dead. When his father comes to visit from Earth it is because he is seriously worried about his son.

Captain Sisco collapses and his brain shows an incredibly High level of synaptic (nerve interaction) activity. Is he dreaming, having interactions with those known as "the prophets?"

A young, talented African American writer begins to write of a time 400 years in the future. He dreams of a station in space, whirling among the stars. And the Captain, like himself, is African American. But there are all Kinds of humanoids there, some tall, some short with big earlobes, and shape shifters, too. He writes so brilliantly that it all becomes believable, but . . .

The other Sci. Fi. Writers, (including a woman who must write as a man in order to get published) love his work! His girl friend owns a restaurant and wants him to get into another line of work, one that Pays!

But he Knows his work is good and either it can't leave Him alone or He cannot leave it. There are arguments with the magazine editor where All he has to do is Make his Captain White! But he can't do it, it isn't the truth living inside him.

Periodically he meets an African American man on the street who keeps giving him cryptic advise which always boils down to "write your truth from inside of you". I can't tell you if this man is a preacher or a homeless man, as I couldn't see him.

The magazine's editor keeps arguing that this young African American man can't have his picture on the periodical's cover along with the white Men, because the public "isn't ready to accept Negro and women writers." When our young writer mentions W. E. B. Du Bois, Ralph Ellison, Langston Hughes, and others, the editor dismisses him by saying such authors are Only read by educated, liberal people, Not the general public. But Finally a story is written which is So good that even the editor can't resist. He agrees to get it published!

The young writer joyfully Celebrates with his girl friend and his friends who Want to read more of his work and See his name in print, even If the pay is crumbs.

When this writer happily enters the editor's office next he is told that his story is not going to be published and that the magazine owner has ordered the editor to fire him. As his stories about white people Have been published, the other writers for the magazine argue on his behalf. Everyone Knows it's the color of his skin and his insistence on African American characters in "white roles". Which have seen his work trashed and our writer unemployed, on the street, and possibly in danger of losing the girl he loves. At the end of this scene the young writer is broken, sobbing, insisting that all he has written Is Real.

On the street once again, he meets the man who guides him. This time he is Told that He, the young gifted black writer Is both the dreamer and the Dream.

Captain Sisco wakes as his brain returns to a normal level of activity. After experiencing what everyone refers to as his "dream" of struggle in the past, he decides he is where he is meant to be and that he will continue to struggle in his time, 400 years After the time of his "dream." But he, like us, must wonder if his Current reality is the dream.

This episode, like "Sanctuary" (written about earlier) was so convincingly acted that I was in deep pain, starting to cry along with that young man when his dream was broken and his gifts thrown aside.

Once I came back to my reality, I'm afraid my first thought was, "Hell, who dreamed up This mess of a life?"

Then I thought about the belief of Buddhists and Some Native Americans that we are all children of a common dream. Our dreams weave together to make our common shared reality. I wondered how far back, how long ago a totally blind, hearing impaired person had to dream big in order for me to be using a machine that could talk loudly enough and send my words to people I don't know, across spaces I cannot physically travel.


Sorry if this copied from "Word"" in a chopped up fashion.

You Called Me a What?

I don't choose friends on the basis of their sexual preference. So I have straight friends, "don't touch me" friends, lesbian nd gay friends. But for some reason I have had two gay men friends, at different times, call me a name I resent. The name is "fag hag."

When I asked a gay friend what the deal was, (he doesn't call people names) he said he thought the word "fag" was about self-hatred. And if one hates one's self, it is easier to label others, too.

I remember one friend who has chosen not to continue as a friend, saying something like, "oh, you fag hags are all alike. You hang around then desert us as soon as you get a boyfriend." What actually happened is that He started dating boyfriends and disappeared.

Neither he nor any gay man will be called a "fag" by me. This is conservative rural country where such a word is not a proud reclaiming of identity. And I am Not a Hag. Like everybody else, I have faults and good qualities. But my faults don't make me a Hag.

What brought up this topic was that my friend who Doesn't call names was recounting a conversation where a disabled woman called herself a "fag hag." I stopped the conversation, saying I didn't like this term and asked what he thought it really meant. His first reply was something like, "Well, she called herself that, she's had several gay friends." My response is So What? Over the years I have had several gay friends. The two who called me "fag hag" both disappeared. One of them stayed rent free in my mobile home while putting himself through nursing school. I was helping Ann in her home, to try and cope with disability, school, and work. So I was happy to give him a roof when he lost his factory job and decided to work his way through school. He too found a boyfriend, at which point I became expendable, and vanished.

I understand that when people are working on a romantic relationship it takes up most of their time and all of their interest. But the next time someone uses that name for me I will stop the conversation then and there to discuss it. And I would guess That person will disappear. Better sooner than later, I think, less painful.

Food Donations Can Contribute to Illness

The Sanskrit word for a group of people trying to live by the Buddha's teachings is Sangha. The mail below is something which really happened and which I sent as a reaction to it.

Dear Sangha,
A friend of mine went to a food pantry. I was told that all of the women there,
needing food were overweight, had bad skin, and looked exhausted. When my friend
got food the reason why might have been at least partially explained. What had
been donated for the pantry to give out was all starchy, processed food. My friend
was thankful to get anything at all. But said, when I asked, that she got things
like white bread, cheap cake mixes, instant macaroni and cheese, and similar foods.
If we have the money ourselves to eat something better, it would be an inexpensive
kindness to donate more healthy foods. Brown rice, old fashioned oatmeal, dry beans,
lentils, and split peas are all relatively cheap. For fruit pinapple in its own
juice is available, as are peaches packed in pear juice. Raisins are a relatively
cheap dried fruit.
For those who eat meat a can of tuna, chicken, or even a package of all meat bologna,
(not the most healthy of foods) would contain more protein than my friend received
in any single food packet given. Peanut butter contains sugar, but it also has
protein. A can of peanuts has protein without the sugar.
Basic cooking ingredients like spices,olive or canola oil, artificial sweetener,
dark molasses, or honey, salt, cornmeal or whole wheat flour might also help.
Beverages such as flavored tea in teabags can be a real treat. In Only my opinion,
powdered milk doesn't taste as good as milk in a carton, but one Can cook with it.
Old fashioned cocoa is delicious on a Winter night,(as is cocoa mix) and popcorn
cooked on the stove is good too.
I'm not trying to crusade against all mixes or canned foods. I'm saying
I believe that a diet of only these things contributes to ill health.
If the pantry has freezer facilities, frozen veggies are available which don't
contain the same salt, sugar, and other aditives which are in canned foods.
It is my hope that we can still donate to food pantries and try to be aware, mindful of
what we are giving the people in our communities to eat. Before donating something
it might help to ask, "Would I want to eat that?"
I'm not telling anyone What to eat. But as someone who has had to rely on gifts
of food in the past I feel that for those who have no choice but to eat what we
give them, more mindful giving will do two things. It can help alleviate a feeling
of deprivation and anger, and offer better health if we donate foods with some
variety and quality
Thank you for considering these words.

Sorry this came out so chopped up, copied from my E-mail. I hope it makes sense to anyone kind enough to read it.


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