Its Snowing in Seattle....

Spring time in Seattle has been beautiful with the many trees blooming.

Despite the beauty, today I growl.
Work sometimes is harder than it needs to be.

It's not the clients, it's other "professionals".

The streets and sidewalks are covered with the raining blossoms, which look like a different version of snow.

Really annoys me when we can't be kind to one another and put our egos aside for the betterment of our clients.

I've been working with him for two years...
I don't know why you're involved.
Too many cooks spoil the pot.
I don't think my client needs others involved.

The blossoms smell wonderful and their sidewalk droppings add more beauty to an already dazzling spring-time.

This is not the first time this has happened.
Same group of "social service providers." What am I doing wrong that this keeps happening? One co-worker says, "It tells me that you're doing your job." Nonetheless, I've let this get to me and I remain pissed
and I am forced to look at how I can carry a grudge.

Spring time in Seattle.
My learning never ends.
Sorry for such a boring entry.

Doors...

In my daily wanderings I encounter many doors and they are a great place to learn about who's behind the closed door. I find that many people like to decorate or put messages on them. The following are just but a few of what I encountered just today...

Technically, this really isn't a door but when I saw it from a distance, I thought it was a door.

I would never dare to park here!

This was at one of the housing buildings that I go to...It's a bit fuzzy due to my attempt to be surreptitious. The top writing reads, "Me myself and I are..." I didn't knock.

Housing inspections are a big part of my clients' lives. Another issue are bed bugs and they can be a real problem in these buildings. It's not just where the poor live but bed bugs are everywhere, even in the fanciest of hotels. As staff, we are always being trained on bed bug prevention protocols, as in how not to bring them home. Just a little warning to those of you who may like to shop at thrift stores for whatever delights you might find: it's not uncommon to bring home the little nuclear survivors--just a little warning & prevention tip.

The sign on the left reads: "Bug man's coming Wednesday, 4/7."

Here's a door of an instructor at my local community college. I like the advice.

And another....

Some folks prefer to keep their doors pristine and just put their messages nearby....
I cannot speak to the chop sticks message.

This is one of my favorites. Remember Mr. Mexican Mafia guy from a few blogs back? Well, this is his door. He's working on trying to get clean. People knocking on doors is a real issue in the buildings and I hear many complaints about the phenomena. What do they want? Often money, drugs, and yes, sometimes just a cup of sugar. His message does cover a broad spectrum.

And speaking of cups of sugar. Today as I was doing my rounds, I knocked on a woman's door. She greeted me warmly dressed in a very open, slinky robe. She invited me in and as I stepped over the threshold my eyes locked with a buck naked gentleman looking a bit panicked.

Me: Ohhh. I'm pretty sure I've come at an inconvenient time.
She: Oh, no, that's okay come on in.
Me: Ummm, no, I'll come back another time.
She: No really, it's okay.
Me: No, I'll see you another time. This is bad timing.
He: Do ya think??

One never knows what's behind those doors. She had no sign.

Back To School

May I always continue to learn something new every day—until my last day when I will learn how to die.

I’ve started back to school and have joined the throngs at one of our local community colleges. This Spring quarter, I am taking three classes—one on Ethics and the Law (as it pertains to chemical dependency issues), a class on doing special evaluations for folks who are seeking treatment, and lastly, a class on domestic violence.

Why, why, why, some may shriek? Well it’s all for future planning and getting a certificate that I want that ultimately makes me a Chemical Dependency Professional.

My peers--sort of, technically speaking....

This deciding to go back took a bit of pondering. Most people I have spoken to have said, in such a gentle manner, “Sounds great but the process and the classes will drive you crazy”. I’m guessing they will be correct at times but I am bound and determined to make it through despite the fact that I possess many years of experience (working and teaching) and according to the State of Washington, they do not count. So, I’m taking a bit of my own advice and just doing it—jump the hoops, click off each class and ultimately end up with the certificate.

A community college is very different than what I have been used to over my academic career. The spectrum of classmates, sights, sounds and events will keep me quite entertained if I can hold the attitude that we are all there to learn together and good for all of us for being there!

Learning has no boundaries and just on my first night I learned about how two women skillfully and thoughtfully chose their seats…Both spoke their streams of consciousness aloud and it took me a minute to realize that they were not talking to me particularly, but to our Universe in general.

Woman #1: Oh my, I’ll never fit in one of those desk seats. Nope, not gonna work—not here or even over there; nope none of them. I wonder where I’ll end up sitting in this room…..
The instructor quickly pointed to a long desk in the back of the room and encouraged her to give that location a try. She happily rolled her large suitcase back there and was satisfied with the solution.

Woman #2: Where shall I sit? Why, I think I’ll sit right here; right here is by the door and if I have to go to the bathroom, I can just get up and go, right from here. Yes, this is good; if I sit over there, well then I will have to walk by people and then everyone will know my business. Yes, I do think this seat right by the door is a good place to sit. This is where I’ll sit.

As I left my class today, I walked outside and was greeted by a group of protesters. They were in their organizing stage--making signs and placing bandannas over their faces to protect their identities. I learned that it was a coordinated protest between Seattle and Olympia organizers: their goal, to protest many things including the police and social injustice issues. For me, I secretly admire their zeal and how they are questioning authority; I am reminded of my youthful passion for Patty Hearst, the SDS, and the many marches I myself have attended over the years.

On the other hand, I take offense at a sign which read, "Rest in peace Maurice Clemmons". He executed four police officers several months ago and was killed by a police officer trying to arrest him. I shake my head in frustration at the sight of the sign.

The irony was that there were a number of police in attendance--almost more than the protesters. When I walked by them, I thanked them for their service--not to be a Polly Anna but because I feel for the dilemmas they must encounter every day and how letting down their guard while drinking a cup of coffee can be their last moment on earth. So, I carry both parts: question authority while examining all sides of the issue.

These officers were entertained by protesting musicians who played an enthusiastic rendition of "Down by the Riverside".

Down By the Riverside

Gonna lay down my sword and shield
Down by the riverside
Down by the riverside
Down by the riverside
Gonna lay down my sword and shield
Down by the riverside
Ain't gonna study war no more.

refrain

I ain't gonna study war no more,
I ain't gonna study war no more,
Study war no more.
I ain't gonna study war no more,
I ain't gonna study war no more,
Study war no more.

Gonna stick my sword in the golden sand;
Down By the riverside
Down by the riverside
Down by the riverside
Gonna stick my sword in the golden sand
Down by the riverside
Gonna study war no more.

refrain

Gonna put on my long white robe;
Down By the riverside
Down by the riverside
Down by the riverside
Gonna put on my long white robe; Down by the riverside
Gonna study war no more.

refrain

Gonna put on my starry crown; Down By the riverside
Down by the riverside
Down by the riverside
Gonna put on my starry crown;
Down by the riverside
Gonna study war no more.

refrain

Gonna put on my golden shoes;
(ETC)
Gonna talk with the Prince of Peace;
(ETC)
Gonna shake hands around the world;
(ETC)

All of this and just my second day of class!
Stay tuned.
PS: I am really sorry if you can't get the tune out of your head for several hours....

Going Home....

While heading home today I had the following encounters--

On a busy Seattle downtown street,
a gentleman sitting in a wheelchair
both legs amputated just below his hips.
He slept deeply, looking almost serene.

Below him, an exploded bottle of red wine;
a running red star permeates the sidewalk.

Marking Passover, we the crowd,
part around him like the Red Sea.

I now sit on my bus, heading home.
Another gentleman in a wheelchair sits in front of me--
he rambles loudly and incoherently.
"Wanna hear a joke?"
"Hey man, I'm an alcoholic, not a junkie."
A clean cut man tries to speak to him, "Lower your voice."
"Hey you! Go look in the mirror--and God bless you."
Young men leave the bus and as they pass his seat they scream,
"F*** You!"
He quickly replies, "Wanna get a drink?"

Signs of Spring....

Spring has been in Seattle for over a month now. Here are a few signs from our yard.

This is our cedar tree, Goliath.

A close up.

It's been wonderful to watch what Spring time sends forth; also great to be back in our yard again.
Please stay tuned for more--a lot is happening out there.

A Week End Respite....

Some opportunities are just too good to pass up. Kim and I received an invitation to join our friends Deb and Peter (with their two children, Emma and Alex) at a beach house down in Manzanita, Oregon. Manzanita is just south of Cannon Beach and we were quick to say yes to a two night stay and visit to the mighty Pacific.

Peter works for a big well known corporation and one of his associates offered his beach home to Peter and family for a week vacation; the timing also coincided with Peter's birthday.

In the distance, on the left, is Manzanita, Oregon, USA

Our "little beach house".

Talk about seeing how the "other half live"--this for us was one of those times. The beach house was just amazingly beautiful and our jaws dropped when we first entered. Many times Kim and I have wandered these beaches admiring the homes and wondered about who lives in "those" houses and what must it be like. We got that opportunity this weekend. For me it was like being bumped up to first class on an airplane; one never wants to rejoin the coach crowd again--that taste of luxury has such an allure and is like an inhaled intoxicant, rushing to my brain's limbic system. I had to remind myself that this was a special event.

We spent a lot of time staring and announcing whale sightings. Someone would shout, "I think I see something" and we would all scurry to the windows, binoculars in hand, and say, "where? where?" The whales were out there on their northerly route and if one looked very closely and patiently, occasionally we would see a hump or the rising, sprouting water from their blow holes. For me, I t h i n k I saw something but wasn't always sure.
I don't know what would have been so hard for them to do some breaching right out front so one could be sure and thus properly entertained??

Here is Deb, searching patiently.

When we weren't searching for whales, what else could there be to do? Ummm, well how about taking in a movie in the "theater room" of the house? I kid you not! This was just an amazing feature that really made me not want to return to coach.

Here we are in our cozy, cushy chairs. We watched a movie and a nature program from the Discovery channel.

Yes, we did make it outside for some great beach walks too.

And we stopped to smell the wild strawberry plants.

Here's Peter and son, Alex. Kim and I were present at the birth of Alex so we hold a special fondness for this young man. He's handsome, bright, kind and has developed an interest in micro-financing. Who'd of thought?! Such concepts never even entered my mind at his young age.

We got to sleep in and then each morning took time to visit and drink our coffee. Topics covered many realms: parenting, empty nests, where we are in life. We discussed our fears and accomplishments and had lengthy conversations about retirement, end of life and how, should we have any control, we might create some control. Don't be fooled, we also laughed a lot!

For some strange reason they found my morning attire funny;
I don't know why.

A rainbow at the beach; always a good sign.

Alas, our time, as do all things, came to an end.

But, another little voice inside my head reminded me to be grateful for all I have and encouraged me to happily take that coach seat because, either way, coach or first class,
I'm still flying...

Walk My Talk....

As I attempt to work with my clients who are seriously out of control with their addictions and substance abuse, I try to teach them the concept of “remaining in the moment” or as other professionals put it “mindfulness”. So, given this, today as I went to catch my morning bus to work, what did I do but get on the wrong bus. I had not paid any attention to which one had arrived and I just got on without looking or thinking. It wasn’t until I was on the bus that I realized my error. I smiled broadly at a couple of folks I see each day at the bus stop who get on this different bus; I acted like, “Hey, I’m just going in a different direction this morning—a change in my daily plans.” HA!

While it really was no big deal, all I had to do was transfer to another coach later down the line, I was struck by how I was totally not paying attention—truth be told, I was looking at my Blackberry and reading email. This is what 90% of people on the bus now do—we are hooked up to our devices, quietly in our own worlds. Emphasis upon quiet; there is rarely much conversation unless it is someone talking on their cell phone to some unknown entity.

This concept of remaining in the moment often comes up when my client is faced with my questions regarding their “triggers”. What sets you off to want to drink or go use? Almost 100% of the time I get, “I don’t know.” They truly haven’t a clue and thus the concept of mindfulness and being awake to our moments comes up: What were you doing, who were you with, what were you thinking, what was your mood?

This is an amazing challenge given some of the folks with whom I work. Just yesterday I spent my day with two convicted bank robbers, one Level 2 sex offender, one “2 strikes” client, and another long term self described ex Mexican mafia member who’d just gotten released from jail for threatening his protective payee (individual who manages his Social Security money). Add in a large amount of alcohol or some crack cocaine or heroin, a dab of mental illness and we do tend to act a bit goofy…

Me: What happened?

Mexican Mafia Guy: Oh, M'ame, I just called her on the phone because I was frustrated that she wouldn’t give me more of my money; it’s my money. I told her I had a gun but really I don’t; I didn’t mean it.

To make his point of being unarmed he lifted his shirt and did a 360 twirl giving me quick glimpses of a protruding belly, many dragon tattoos and a plumbers view of his butt. A few days earlier he had been dragged out of his building by 5 very large police officers.

Me: Well, you understand that we can’t do things like that—threaten people?

MMG: I told you, I didn’t mean it; I wouldn’t do that…

Me: It’s like this: We can’t scream fire in a movie theater when there really isn’t one—we get arrested for things like that.

MMG: They have a restraining order against me; I didn’t mean it. I don't know how I'm going to get my money.

Me: Do you think that perhaps you scared the hell out of her?

MMG: Well, maybe?...

These days, Kim and I are definitely not lacking for dinner conversation. We try to limit it because there’s an insidious negativity that can be created. We begin to think that this is just what makes up our world. We regularly discuss trying to find compassion in these moments and how for the time we are with the “Mr. MMG’s” we give them our undivided attention and actively push away our personal feelings. I actively try to visualize them as an infant or toddler and that helps me to give them honest compassion because I know that at some young point in time, something began to go terribly wrong.

So, getting back to remaining in the moment, or being awake to what I’m doing, I keep practicing; I have much to learn myself.

I will end with a joke I heard the other night at a comedy show….a good self care technique—go listen to comedy!

So there were three guys waiting to enter heaven and were being interview by St. Pete at the Pearly Gates.

St. P: In order to enter heaven, you must present me with some symbol of the birth of our Lord.

First guy rummages through his pockets and pulls out a lighter. “This represents lights and the star that guided the 3 Wise Men.”

St P: Very good. You may enter.

Second guy goes through his pockets and pulls out keys. “These represents the jingling of the bells.”

St. P: Very good. You may enter.

The third guy is really sweating it. In desperation, he pulls out a pair of women’s underwear and panics when he sees the frown on St. Peter’s face.

“Carole's?” he says.

Get it???? HA HA HA.

Thank you, thank you.

PS: For a few of you who may be wondering (and I know some of you are), NO, the pictured tattoo guy is NOT my client!