I believe I have been suffering from "burnout."
This happens to me from time to time when I am constantly thinking about problems I have no direct impact on. This time, of course, happens to be with the Aborigines and the state sanctioned sex abuse about to, if not already happening to their children. Being a survivor puts this issue very close to my heart.
So when I see so little action being taken, it brought me to the point where I realized that most people really just don't give a shit. This is what has brought me down.
But I learned an important lesson long ago. When I feel helpless about helping others with their struggles, I have to remember to rejuvinate myself otherwise I will become a useless piece of shit not only to those that need help elsewhere, but to myself.
This has not come to a hardcore level, ever, because I remember that lesson in my soul. I cannot do effective work if I have not taken care of myself. I have been neglecting my creativity as well as neglecting the fact that I am in a safe place.
A safe place means there are few or no direct threats against me in the immediate sense. Therefore I have to do what I can to keep myself happy and healthy otherwise I will not be of any use to anyone, especially myself. If I don't keep my arms strong and healthy, I won't be able to lob stones or swing a hatchett at the appropriate times.
I always give this advice to other activists and offer it to myself again as a lesson reaffirmed in this latest struggle: "Find those things that make you happy and create beauty in the world because if you don't, you will get burned out sooner or later doing this work because it is HARD WORK! You will become of no use to yourself let alone others."
I currently don't have to directly deal with issues of being shot at, bombed, being made a refugee, having my whole life disrupted and the lives of my family, etc. I cannot be an effective activist if I don't take care of myself in the safety that is currently a privilege in my life but should be a HUMAN RIGHT in everyone's life!
So, I've whipped out the old camera and have started taking photographs and creating poems and commentaries to go along with those. Some serious, some humorous, some beautiful, etc. It is one of the ways I celebrate life in my safety in order to hopefully help inspire others and create change in this world.
If you are in a safe place, don't forget to care for yourself. Don't forget to keep you spirits high because you have the opportunity. Don't forget to DO SOMETHING with those high spirits to help create change in this world. You need you, I need you, we all need you. Celebrate, Love, create joy and beauty, and struggle for yourselves, your families, your communities, and all of the peoples of this world.
See you at the revolution, and you damned well better be bringing your dance with you to share with us. I know I will!
That's me, on the left, there. No! Really! They did some photo shop on my body to make me look like someone else...Really! [If you believe that, I'M GONNA RUN FOR OFFICE!]
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Forgotten Lessons Remembered
History Lesson
The important thing, I've learned, is what you don't read or hear about in history. I learned this lesson by reading Howard Zinn and from my friend, Jim Craven.
History begins in the Western U.S. when the pure, or "white and delightsome" (as the mormons might say), families moved west after the invasion and conquest of Indian lands in the east. The man seems to be saying; "Look over there, my pure white family. Those are the Red Niggers we are gonna slaughter and steal all their land and resources because..."
"We will use this to further our colonialist desires, and when the Red Niggers refuse our advances and don't allow us just to take everything that belongs to them, we can use that as an excuse to further our military conquest and slaughter the inferiors by the thousands, millions, and hopefully wipe the face of the earth clean of their inferior race."
Those who refuse to die will have to be beaten and tortured with this book. It is a superior religion to theirs because we are the superior race and therefore...
Notice here what whitey has behind his back. He has something to back up his desires to steal everything that doesn't belong to him. Which, reminds me of one of my favorite Daniel Boone stories. When Dan was captured by the Shawnee, he met Tecumseh when he was 7 years old. Dan showed Tecumseh how white men did business, that's how Dan put it to the young lad. Dan held one hand extended and one behind his back, Tecumseh reached for the hand of alleged peace. When he shook Dan's hand, Dan grabbed his and put the knife he had hidden behind his back to Tecumseh's throat. Take that pattern and overlay it with a lot of shit that is happening today, and ain't much changed.
And what is this offensive statue between the court house and the cop shop in dowtown Portland called? That's right: "The Promised Land." You see, god promised this land to whitey, it's just that god was too fucking stupid and made the mistake of creating red niggers here first. Therefore, the red niggers had to be dealt with, cleared from the land like the trees, salmon, camas, and many other plants and animals. These "problems" had to be "solved" by whitey. Final solution. Kind of like what is happening with the Iraqi's right now. They are a problem to be solved in order for the superior race to get to the resources that god was too stupid to just give to whitey. He put other races of humans there, and now that problem needs to be solved.
There is your history lesson. Any questions?
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Trying to Stay on Top of it All
I haven't had much time to work on issues the last several days. I worked 14 hours on Monday, had a lot of things I wanted to do yesterday and wound up working 10 1/2 which cut out a lot of things, inlcuding helping on the issues here.
I have not forgot about our Aboriginal brothers and sisters. Things are building slowly (but they are building) and it is frustrating and aggrivating and nothing unusual.
Yesterday, like my photos from the park, I went to try to find beauty downtown, specifically the waterfront water fountain where folks gather to cool down in the summer heat. I got some photos and will post them soon, along with a history lesson.
Rhonda came home this morning. It is tough, as many of you know, to come home from nature and feel like you belong here. This is not the way one is supposed to live. At least she doesn't have to work today.
And as I make plans, just for my evening away from work, my workplace now takes more and more chunks of my life. I had so much planned yesterday, even working on the Aboriginal issue. Next thing I knew, it was 8pm and past my bedtime.
It's good to have Rhonda home. I'm sad about Corbin. I want to see a better work situation for Rhonda. I want to be...LIVE...out in nature with her. I wish their was more action, action like I saw at the NBA draft, for the Aborigines, against the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Once there is a lag, I'll be at it again!
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
WE LOST A GREAT ONE!
We lost a great one. Corbin Harney has passed on.
I have ran into this man throughout my travels and travails around this nation.
Rhonda and I saw him for the last time a year ago in May. We went to protest "Divine Strake" at the Nevada Test Site which is OWNED by Bechtel Corporation. When we first got their, the desert wind was so fierce we had a major struggle getting our tent up. Corbin and crew showed up, and there was about 30 folks helping him get his camp together. In the morning, he drummed and prayed the sunrise thankful for another day. We all gathered in a big circle, crossed arms and joined hands, and danced until the sun was over the horizon.
Corbin had such a beautiful smile and was a kind and gentle warrior who will be much missed in this Revolution of our Hearts.
See you on the other side sometime, Corbin. And hey, don't foget, please send reinforcements.
Monday, July 9, 2007
Just a Few Minutes
I only have a few minutes to write before I drag my ass into the basement, put on my uniform, and head for work.
Yesterday, I just hit the height of frustration. It seems that no one is doing anything about the Aborigines. Their seems to be a Waco style standoff going on in Pakistan. Israeli's are creating all sorts of raids into Palestine. "Sicko" came out and STILL there ain't no one in the fucking streets. I had it. I felt like my soul was screaming to escape. I was frustrated and pissed off and went to the park looking for something...and found it. I haven't been able to write a poem in over a month (unusual for me). The world was dragging me down. Not that bad, though, I have a lotta strength and a willingness to use it. Just felt like I hit a wall.
I feel refreshed, but I won't be drinking that 6-pack anytime soon. But I did know what the prophet meant.
Rhonda has formulated a plan for the next 9 months or so, and it sounds good. She will be heading to the Rogue today. I'm gonna miss her, but she'll be home soon enough. I hope I can help her well with her transition when she comes home to this noisy part of Portland.
Gloria from Reflections Bookstore called and told me there is an open mic on Friday that starts at 6pm. Guess where I'll be! Killingsworth near MLK on Friday at Reflections listening and reading a little to. Another good release of that energy.
And yesterday, Rhonda and I had a fantastic meal at the County Cork, fish and chips, some of the best in town. But their Bread Pudding...uuuuhhhhhh! (Homer Simpson Drool)! It LITERALLY was the best bread pudding I have ever eaten! County Cork is on Fremont about 14th on the North side of the street. They have great beer their and darts, too. I didn't drink any beer, though.
If you read this before you take off, Rhonda...I LOVE YOU!
Sunday, July 8, 2007
I'm getting Antsy
Going Crazy
Going out of my Mind!
What's the Buzz about
Humm like a flourescent light
or a mosquito buzzing close to my ear
much closer to my soul!
Everything is stop and go
in my own personal insanity
I want to chew a hole through my soul
and run
But choose instead to grab my camera
and walk
to the park
in hopes of finding words
that my mind cannot find at home
looking for home
A prophet
with his half full beer
watches as I chase
dancing butterflies through the trees
with my camera net.
He is sitting where prophets sit
at a picnic table in the park
smoking and drinking like they always do.
We strike up a conversation
because...
well...
one should always talk with a prophet
ESPECIALLY one
who is drinking and smoking
in the park.
"Step back from it all.
Take some time to relax.
Drink a six pack
and forget about everything
and it'll come to ya,"
the prophet advises
my tension and frustration
with words and with life.
The prophet
free styles words
that dance with the butterflies
fluttering in the air
carried on the wind
through the sunlit shade
beneath the trees.
Words my memory wont allow me to play with
here,
but here we are.
My heart dances
with Rhonda's
like the butterflies that
alluded my camera
and I think
of sharing this story with her,
for her,
for us.
And we part,
the Prophet and I,
with a handshake,
one should always show their respect
to their prophets.
I came home
with a camera bag
full of poems
to share with you.
I have seen the light,
Enjoy
