From Val's Desk

Sometimes when you are too poor to afford a psychologist, you can listen to your heart, sort things out, monitor your own growth, make decisions by writing things out... Some call it journaling...taking notes...bad poetry... Some experiences become understandable by giving them words...safely...privately on paper...to be shared when ready. It works...a cup of coffee...a yellow pad...a number 2 pencil...and a little time out....

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Location: Spokane, Washington, United States

Friday, May 30, 2008

The Terrorists May Have Won


America is emerging from her mind-numbing shock and pain of 9/11
With increasing awareness that it may not be enough to
Blindly support the president's plans as patriotic duty or
Wave the flag and knee-jerk our way to war.

It's our responsibility to question the actions of our leaders.

We go to war when countries have resources we want.
North Korea has only poverty. We aren't going there.

Iraq sits on resources we desire to control.
We'll light matches in this mideast oil field with
No thought to future consequences.

We'll bomb from a distance and never see
Faces of the innocent women and children
Caught up in our carnage.

We'll say "how about you and them fight."
We'll supply the weapons of mass destruction.
This time you can be on our side

This is not a righteous war against an enemy country.
We need a bogeyman to vent our rage against...
Osama's gone missing.

We need to validate a military strategy that
Satisfies the testosterone response to
Beat the hell out of someone when we're mad...
As well as enrich our military industrial complex.

Bombs cannot change the minds and hearts of a
Different culture when hope has been long destroyed.

Grieve with mothers on both sides who will pay a price
For the miscalculation of their leaders.

Why must the most powerful country in the world
Threaten and bully anyone weaker than us?

The terrorists may have won.
We have changed and I am not proud of the results.

Friday, April 18, 2008

Friends



Friendship...that fragile relationship between two people
that says “I am aware of your existence in this world”

A world that oft times holds phantoms and specters of
past pains and dread of a future that may only offer reruns.

A world that holds people you see...but don’t know
people you know....but are not friends.

Folks who care...but cannot fill that core of loneliness
found within your center.

Being...is such a lonely trip...one we travel with braille touches
cautious probes and stumbling steps.

It really does helps to know that ‘someone’ is out there
aware that you ‘are’ ...and they are friend.

Friendship...I know I’m there when it’s safe enough to get mad.
When we honor and accept each other’s honesty.


May 1974

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

A Child's Other World



Sometimes…I still try hard to dwell in the land of mind traveling.

That’s where I hid as a child
Up a tree…under the bed…in the closet.
With blushing heroines…
Splendid knights.

My world was innocent and safe
Contained within the covers of the books
Who were my best friends.
I was never alone.

When I had to come out and face
My mother’s world…school…neighbors.
I was always “blinking” as though
The light was too bright …too harsh.

I never saw those people very well.
They were not as real to me
As characters in the books who remained
Unchanging…good ….brave.

I learned values from them…
Those book friends of mine!
How we should treat one another.
The possibility life could be different in the future.

I was too little then’…but “someday”
A word I learned from my mother…
Kept hope going in those days.
When…realities were a challenge.

Somehow…those friends in the books
Always found a way to solve dilemmas …save the day


Wearing your mother’s shoes to school
Wondering if the kids will laugh.
I skipped school…hid out in the foothills
Played at being my favorite characters.

Magic combined with goodness of heart always prevailed.

Out of coal…
We burned newspapers and wondered about
…when they were all gone….
“I was the Little Match Girl”.

Out of money…
We collected pop bottles
Sometimes….we stole them.
I was Oliver Twist

Out of food…
We ate pancakes and Indian fried bread.
Found blackberries by the creek;
I was an Indian who just whipped Custer.

Was it the books that kept pride going during those days?

Christmas Day on Navy Beans
Was better than the Salvation Army Baskets…
That shamed us before our neighbors.

Had I not read “Little Women”…would I have
Given my only Christmas present to my little sister?
She was too young to understand “no presents”.

I’m grown up…but life is no different.
What do I still find myself doing?….
Escaping to the world of books!

City Libraries and College Campuses
have made “Someday” a reality!
I thank the writers and tax payers!

Monday, April 14, 2008

What...


What scares me is ...loneliness

What warms me is...love

What drives me is...pride

What helps me is...acceptance

1974

Watch Me March



Life is sad and ... life’s a bummer
I can’t even ... “hear” my drummer.

I’m so down...just got to rest.
I’m tired of doing... my level best.

Smile...they say...lift that chin...
Cause copping out is an awful sin.

Put one foot before the other...
Keep on thinking of your brother.

It’s other folk...who need the help.
You just forget about yourself.

Hey! That ain’t smart and that ain’t wise
Reckon it’s time to realize

I need help...I need a friend
Who’ll help my aching heart to mend.

To smile at me ...to look my way
And warm my heart...so I can say

“Life is real...Life is great
Now I got something ...to appreciate!”



October 1973...

Truths...



Homegrown truth comes from the belly
through the heart and is given final form
in sharing it with another.

Hybrid truth comes as thought
formed by seekers as final summation of
Truth from other men’s bellies.


March 1974

Time Passed



Time passed…reality became a way of life
I no longer dodged that dull edged knife

Time passed…success was on the way
I no longer wrote bad poetry to pass the day.

Time passed…I fought and stayed alive
I no longer doubted I could survive.

Toting Up My Beginnings


I am the sum total of my experiences.
Each episode, emotion and enlightenment
shaped a part of me.
I became a part of others.

Connectedness happened
without intent or permission.
Change was sometimes by design.

My life as a foster child
included a loss of siblings
becoming a high school dropout
living in other peoples houses.

Life was having a window into the
intimate life processes of strangers,
absorbing their values,
learning survival skills,
gaining insight about differences
being impacted in ways
I’ve spent a lifetime discovering.

Life was about figuring out
the unwritten rules
most families take for granted and
are different from home to home.

Life was about feeling guilty for
having left my own family.
Was it my fault?

Life was about trying to overcome
abuse and neglect that
colors a child’s view of
how safe this world is and
if it’s safe to love anyone again.

Life was many changes of schools,
family mores, and
new expectations
in terms of performance.

Life was about bringing all your
possessions in a brown grocery bag.

Life was about owning
pain, anger, fear of loss and
a need to control the world
that had failed me.

I understand intimately about
being a child raised by the village
…paying it forward to those
who come behind me.

I made it.

It was not an individual endeavor.

It took the support of many
along the way.
Social workers, foster parents
teachers, pastors
and my favorite…librarians!

Sad part ...I don’t remember all the names
of those who had such an impact on me.

I value and treasure those
who kept me safe
taught me how to be strong…
even somewhat normal on occasion.

These frail words are to say thank you.


April 2008


Sunday, April 13, 2008

Face the Day


I’m seeing the world of Leena,
a four year old Native American child
from St. Joseph’s Children’s Home.
We travel each week to
the Mental Health Center for play therapy.

Leena was raped by a foster father,
suffers from developmental disabilities,
seizures, and odd psychic moments
where she sees ...what no one else is privy to.

Her behaviors resulted in estrangement
from her immediate family.
The spiritual leaders of her tribe
were not able to help her.

Through her rambling words,
I see Leena’s fear of flooding by the river
that passes by the back door of St. Joseph’s.

Her view of Sister Nicola,
the keeper of the keys
(she bit Sister, the last time I brought her home)

I see her impish smile as she dared me
to guess what she had
“That was mine!” It was a Smile button.

Given to Leena to be worn
...when days were dim
when she couldn’t find a smile anywhere else
....not even in the mirror.

Fifteen minutes later
... I went to leave her in the treatment room
Leena came running back to the coat rack
...pinned on the button
and bravely went to face the day.

I wished I hadn’t given up
wearing Smile buttons ...sometime back.

Take a Risk



Offer up your vulnerabilities....and goodness.

Hope to meet needs...yours ...theirs.

We’ll make it for awhile.

Illusions carry us along.

Dreams are so strong

They blind us to realities

Each day of sharing, hoping, dreaming...

Will shape the future and give birth to days...unexpected.

Take a risk.



February 1979

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Being Alone...


Being blind...
It’s such a scary place
I reach out to touch
To know your face.

Being deaf....
The words are all misspent...
I try, but can only guess
At their content.

Being mute...
I cannot form a word
And so...my love and pain
Cannot be heard.


January 1974...

Begin Again


Rhymes and reasons have been
floating across my mind all day.

A beautiful day with just enough
work...to ease my conscience...

I dozed in the spring sun.
filled with its life giving energy.

How many times will that happen
…gathering up the strength
to begin again?

The number of times is an unknown factor.

For certain is the fact that it is a routine…
And will go on all the rest of my life.

Beats…giving up!

Adding to the Sum of Me


Today I start to be
A person I want to be.

Every experience
Will add to the total sum of me:

Each book I read
Each time I laugh

Each time I listen to a song
Each time my feet rock and roll

Each time my heart sings because of
The beauty of the world around me

Each hour spent with others
Each time spent in solitude

Each service given others
Each time seeking a higher power

Each acceptance of my puny human existence
Each request for help from friends,

Every effort to resist resentment and self pity
Each attempt to turn away from shaming others.

Our truth is the sum total of our existence
I will strive to strengthen and nourish my truth.



Friday, April 11, 2008

A Lonely Trip



When I go reaching for new horizons
Searching for the unknown me...it’s a lonely trip

Often when I find myself thinking…
You are finally learning not to ...”Push the River”

I look around to see that I am, instead
Expending a hell of a lot of energy...digging new channels

I have made it halfway
Through this life and am still pursuing the question marks

Seems like I still reach for love...and
Flee from the shadows of ...loneliness and wandering

I entered this world as a bona fide bastard
And grin as I watch others still trying to become.

Having decided on tackling life’s problems head on...
I find the effort a full time marathon in itself.

There is no time left for playing dumb games.
Reality is a full time job.

February 1974

Thursday, April 10, 2008

The DFWM Woman's Group


“Here’s to us women... short and tall.
God bless us broads...one and all.”

Meeting for over twenty-seven years...
We now are aged “ fifty to eighty-five.”

In 1980...we were the
“Thursday Night Marching & Chowder Society,
Prayer and Burn-out Group”.

We grew…got smart…got strong…got powerful
…accomplished much….and changed our name!

In 2008, we are
The Don’t F... With Me Women’s Group!

We are kind…heart wise…intelligent…funny…insightful
Intuitive…talented…hardworking…powerful…and friends.

Cross us at your own peril.
Accept us and we will love and
support you without judgment for life.

Gail
a child of rural America with its deep values
and common sense that never left her.

A strong woman who still unstintingly gives
to family, friends and community and
leaves the world a better place.

Don’t mistake her quiet demeanor for lack of courage.

This is the lady who caravanned across America
in a statement of freedom to chase dreams

who explored other cultures in Latin America and
understands the workings of our own world.

A graduate student, social worker/therapist
businesswoman, mother and school volunteer
...she still glows…and grows.



Cindy
...a woman-child of inner spirit
who searches for truth and peace.
She embraces wisdoms from across the ages.

She is an artist who colors her world
with an imaginative eye.
She became a massage therapist and now
relieves pain and stress with a seeking hand.

She has an ethereal nature that does not sit still.
We stay tuned to see if this sprite can ever be contained
for one moment or... all time.
We welcome what she brings to the sisterhood.

Sandy
At first you see wide-eyed wonder
…running late and seemingly distracted.

Yeah Right!

We know about the sexy siren in a snow cave
Co-pilot with Don Quixote in a hand built glider
High country hiker
Mental health professional...grandmother.

We look deep and see...common sense
...steely resolve...humor and wisdom.

She is Athena anchoring her family
with gossamer threads of love to the earth.

Jean
Who is the very model of a modern major matriarch...
Doing work that changes the world …one heart at a time.

Creating art that reflects her soul’s eye.
Dancing steps that say
“I am woman...watch me roar”

Mom to children, grandchildren,
friend and stranger alike...

In her 80’s....sailing, flying,
driving across the fabric of her country
Ever learning new things..
language, art, skills, ideas and possibilities.

She has been teaching us how to live without regret!

Carol
She sees the world through rebel lenses
Sees life as it ought to be.
Fights off the uglies as they are
For herself and others.

Honored in Japan as respected elder
Striking awe for working two jobs .
Respected for her courage
And her moxie in the art of survival.

Open to all possibilities ... tough in adversity
Patient with her friends
Thoughtful in her gaze…artistic in her soul
She ministers as nurse and counselor.

She re-invents her space, keeps searching
She supports friends without hesitation
She keeps dancing
And takes crap from no one.

Kym
Notice that Kym gets tougher,
smarter and bolder every year?

From those who admire her fighting spirit
And willingness to challenge
Unfairness wherever she finds it
....we say “Hoo-ah!”

Notice the sun beams dancing on the river...
It’s Kym’s spirit out for a spin.

Notice that Kym’s friends love her company
And laugh...and sit in awe...

Notice how the world would be duller
More perverse without Kym’s presence.

Valerie
What can we say about the self appointed scribe
For this uppity women’s tribe?

Still rocking and rolling after fifty years.

Reading since the second grade
Writing in her second life.

Knows the secrets of mind travel
Values books high among possessions.

Creates purposeful chaos and change.
Rescues the lost and thereby herself.

High school drop-out
Became a graduate student.

Motorcycle rider
Became agency program director.

Peaceful poet
Rabble rousing and marching against war.

Soars with Dr. D in his magical aero-machine!