Halloween

Or is that hollow-een?

The times are scary. They match the calendar. Only we are not laughing.

Rallies are staged. Supporters are curried. The speaker soaks it in. feels good. Fields his complaints. Gets more support. He feels good. He thinks he is leading, governing.

Not. Of course, this is not leadership. This is not governance, either. It is one-sided. It is not uniting disparate thoughts and feelings. The rhythm of these shows masks an inability to manage the important tasks. They mislead the already ill-informed.

Yes, their feelings of inability, feebleness, powerlessness are uplifted. The reactions follow: blame, rage, agitation. The need to lash out if only to yell or jump up and down. They are doing something to vent their frustrations.

We hope they keep it there and not take it outside to spill over in other activities of their lives.

A mind unsettled and twisted may take action. The bomber did. So too the muggers and beaters and slashers. Angry at their situation. Angry at their powerlessness. The draw to mob action grows.

A synagogue is attacked; 11 dead; several critically injured; lives shattered as much as the peace is broken. It is a long-lasting result. A horror. The product of terrorism – foreign or domestic.

We are London, Paris, Bangladesh, Beirut or a Syrian village. Violence. Mayhem. Ugly behavior that demeans human life, humanity.

We reject these results, these conditions erupting from anger. It is life we hope to govern.

The how and where-for of governance is tried and true in so many places, societies and history. We know what works; what doesn’t. Openness of process slows us down but makes for buy-in and support.

In the midst of all this chaos are the responders to the horrors. They put pieces together, save lives, help the maimed, remove the dead for their families to grieve over. They find the culprits and put their harm far from the public. They bring peace to a neighborhood if but temporarily.

The governing role is left to their bosses, their professional servants of the people, and their elected leaders who serve the public. These are the ones with the duty to determine a way forward.

A way forward to what? To sustainable peace? To civility? to solutions of problems that have brought us to chaos? Do they understand this? Do they know how to proceed? Do they have help from us, the governed? Are we able to advise and consent to them?

How ready are we to listen and learn what the problems are? And their causation? And possible solutions? And the comfort we have or not with all these considerations?

The work is right there, isn’t it? It is the hardest part to do. To think deeply about what matters and do something about it. No; not easy at all. But it still needs doing.

What can we do to help?

October 31, 2018

Facebook Friends

I get requests from people I don’t know to be Facebook friends. If I recognize someone I know in common, I usually accept them. If not, I scan their Facebook page to see if we think in similar fashion. If there are enough kernels of synchronization, I accept them. Synchronization; doesn’t mean they agree with my thinking but might bring diversity into the conversation; might help others understand broader issues.

Scanning their information, I learn where they were born, where they now live, what job they have and where they were educated. This provides a broad pastiche to begin understanding them. I am stunned at the number of people without formal education. They have survived by doing what is needed to live and survive. They are whole. They have come through their journey thus far to make a life and enjoy it.

In comparison with those I counsel, some thoughts are formed. Here is a small cross section of those thoughts.

·        Positive vibes provide a good outlook on life; they are married and have kids, or maybe involved   with their siblings’ kids until they have their own

·        They engage in fun activities 

       

       They are active and express satisfaction with their accomplishments 

·        They demonstrate caring for others

·        They make the best of their experiences including education, no matter how humble

·        They seek the positive

·        They anticipate the future

Getting my counseling clients to emulate the listed observations of Facebook friends, is the task I must do. Somehow there is a connection to this positive thinking that most of us have. They do not. They are locked in a lonely place. That has led to job loss, poverty, drug or alcohol abuse, and a continuing decline in their spiral of life.

Reversing that spiral is the goal. But how?

Who has the expertise to do this? Can a patient heal him- or her-self? What are the chances that this happens? Does it last? What do non-patients do, the normal ones?

I think they experiment to see what works. They try to fix first, if that doesn’t happen, they seek short term escape from the problem. Later they return to it and try again. They don’t give up; on it or themselves.

The less fortunate don’t return to try again. They are defeated. They accept defeat. They look for blame to escape their own pointing finger. But that’s the problem we seek to fix once again. How?

I fervently feel we can help. Maybe by getting them to laugh? To express themselves in directions they don’t feel able to? If depressed, ask them to jot down their thoughts? Write a poem or short story on the feeling? Perhaps it is a song they are compelled to sing or mutter. Maybe it is reading something familiar that pulls them to a better place and then relaunch their thinking?

Questions. Always questions. It is they who need this. But it is we who press forward for them.

Are we making a difference? When will we know this?

October 30, 2018

Laughter as Hope

In the midst of sorrow, we find something to giggle over. In frustration, impatience sets up absurd happenings, and then laughter. A comedian stands alone on stage and speaks; we listen. He tells a tale, draws us in, then delivers a line that is absurd but recognizable. And we laugh.

I’ve observed this many times; so have you. It is the kernel of absurd that makes us laugh. Absurd is truth or reality taken too far and we see our weakness in stark relief flash before us; that sets us up for a release of tension. We laugh to do that.

The good, bad and ugly of life is the reality. Laughter is the tension breaker. We seek it; hunger for it.

Counseling a homeless person provides insight. He dislikes where he is; it is small, gloomy and crowded with people he doesn’t know. He judges them inferior to himself. He is better than this, than what? Than homelessness. How did he get here? What led him to this?

Not his fault. Of course. People didn’t value him. Family didn’t help when they could. They let him down. It’s their fault he ended up here.

We press for a positive he can latch onto; follow that toward a job. He diverts the conversation to the food provided, the one shower for 40 guys; the unsavory people surrounding him; all losers. Except for him.

The positive is elusive while others engage him to discuss his points of discomfort. They don’t hold him to seeking a job; what type of work could he do right away? What would be a stepping stone job to something better? Does he have any ideas to think about along these lines?

No. I have to protect my stuff, he says. Someone could steal it. These guys don’t like you. They plant weed or worse in your drawer near your bed; then report you and you are arrested and put in jail. They do it all the time.

No positive. No forward thinking or ideas. Just commentary on the present. Resentment for the past.

The absurdity of his circumstances does not yield to laughter. How to trigger this? That becomes my target. It doesn’t come. The others trying to help keep allowing the discussion to return to the lowly conditions.

This frustrates me and I announce my leaving. The others in the room are dependent on my ride so they get up to leave. They ask to take them to their home for the rest of the day. They will hire an Uber car to return him to the shelter. He doesn’t want to go but he doesn’t want to go back to the shelter either. Their discussion at their home will most likely lead them nowhere to a solution.

We leave together. I drive them to their apartment. I wave as I drop them off and leave for my own home. Empty. Unresolved. Fathomless, them and me.

But I’m only the driver. Free, not an Uber. But someone who cares and yearns for laughter in this situation. None comes.

Bummer.

October 29, 2018

State of the Union

Both in our state of Illinois, and in the nation as a whole, the condition of our society is much lower than most of us think. How do I know this? By working with people in need and hoping for a better day. For them.

When we encounter a problem, we turn to someone for help, at least information or a direction to follow. We think we will find a solution during our trek through the maze of social services. But no.

What I’ve learned over the past few months, and starkly from yesterday’s post, social services are few and far between. The government of the state has defunded most of their safety net. You will not know this until you need it, or want to help someone else who needs it. It doesn’t exist.

Endless internet and phone listings of departments that once were, but at least their skeleton remains, with more endless recorded answering services telling you where the office is located, but no phone numbers to call for help. You call a higher office and the overworked clerk says “we don’t do that anymore; try XYZ department; here’s their number.”

Of course the phone is answered by a machine and gives a litany of non-help. Defunded. Not in business.

Over and over again these results are encountered. The old and infirm become disoriented by the maze. They are unable to continue the search. They turn to family and friends for assistance. Some comes their way. Much doesn’t. even family are turned off by the maze and leave parents and aunts/uncles to fend for themselves.

We think these services exist. They don’t.

Private charities and nonprofits do exist. They are not in network to help sort the phone calls, though. All they can do is say, “try so and so for help; we don’t do that.” No funding from state or federal agencies to provide the network; just a cut off of funds.

This is America in 2018. Safety net shrinking; some important parts already gone, zero left.

When you hear a politician say ‘eliminate the waste’ they mean, eliminate cost and return tax dollars to the taxpayer. To you and I that may be $50 to $200 dollars. To the rich that means $50,000 to $100,000. It is the rich making the proposals and paying politicians to support their wishes in votes in legislature and congress. They get what they want. You and I get little or nothing.

This is America in 2018. Don’t believe me? Try helping another family gain access to needed services. You will find very little; maybe nothing.

Sad.

Please vote the makers of this folly out of office before it is too late for you.

And we argue about bathroom rights of transgender people as though that is the true threat we face? Bosh! And more Bosh.

October 26, 2018

The Caravan

Long may it continue its trek toward safety, wholeness and promise.

That’s all any of us can do. Keep doing what we do one step at a time, one day at a time. Keep on keeping on until what we need and hope for is fulfilled. A lot of work to be done by the self in doing this. A lot of work for others to help with. A lot of work for society to make possible. All working together.

This is the promise of America. This has always been so. It is written large in our history.

So, too, have been other messages that dashed that hope, snuffed out the flame of promise. Those moments happened. They are the dark spots on our history. This is fact. This is truth. It happened. 

And we hang our heads in shame for each and every time such was the case.

But we have now. We have today. We have an hour and some energy to take another step and make a difference in someone’s life. Now and forever we have this time to act. To do good. To be ‘my brother’s keeper.’ All of the world’s history includes this phrase in one way or another in each of the religions adored by billions.

Yet there are doubters and naysayers. There are people who do nothing and smirk their victory.

They haven’t won. They have lost. Only those who answer the call witness victory.

Oh, the problems remain. We will always have them to challenge us. The poor we have among us always. So, too, the hurt, maimed and sick. It is the journey of life. We do it together or alone. Much better with others. It reminds us of our humanity and dependence on others. Just as they are on us.

I just wrote that. But I heard it somewhere else before. Wonder where that was? And when.

Might you know?

October 25, 2018

Denial and Celebration

Trump stages his rallies. Thousands gather to hear and remain convinced they are right. About what? They are laughing, clapping, stomping their feet, and cheering. What? Truth?

They hear the complaints against the other side, the nonbelievers. They hear condemnation of what they think they are not. It’s the other people making this world rotten. The right people are in their room right now hearing the truth. What truth?

The facts are never reported. Not by trump. Not by his handlers. Not by the press. They only report what was said and the nature of the crowd. But what about truth? What truth?

The families in need. The unemployed now in the abyss of loss where no jobs exist. Their careers disappeared. They did not know. They were busy living their lives to pay attention. They didn’t see it coming, the abyss.

The family that loves their kids even in adulthood. Love so dear they do not see what is coming. The abyss arrives. They know not why.

The church sings hymns and prays for light. They labor to help others. They see why. The abyss, though, swallows whole communities elsewhere, sometimes right beneath their noses. And they are unable to respond to the call. Some in their midst say it is ‘not I’ to do. If not they, who?

Mother Teresa was often depressed, despondent. Her diary tells us so. And why so low? Because she witnessed so much suffering, so much sorrow, so much of the abyss in the eyes of those she loved and cared for. The task so large it engulfed her? The carer cares too much?

The abyss waits for each of us. We avoid it. We help some to avoid it as well. But its day will come. It is the space of the universe. It tells us our small size. It is not you or I who must care. All of us must answer the darkness.

Is that not what we are called to do? And if the response is not enough? What then?

Why are those people celebrating?

October 24, 2018

To the Homeless Shelter

Friends of mine are in their elder years. The man is 80 and she is 71. She has dementia; perhaps at a stage of 40%? I’m not a doctor so I don’t know. He is exhausted watching after her afraid of what will happen if he stops watching. He hasn’t told her or discussed dementia with her. They live in subsidized senior housing and are facing eviction because they spent their rent money on their son.

The 34 year old son faces homelessness and alcoholism. We think he has been sober for about 2 weeks. That’s the good part. The bad: no job; no resolve to get a job; continues to beg money from his father for food, cigarettes and rent in a local motel. He is depressed. He is hopelessly self-centered and unable to search for a job. He gets ‘sick’ every time we arrange to take him to a social agency or homeless shelter.

Sunday we had arranged to check him out of the motel and drive him to the shelter. He claimed sore throat and fever. The shelter won’t admit him while ill. So, another day in the motel and nothing done. I drove to the folks’ apartment, picked them up and went to the motel where the son is staying. No progress. Stalemate again.

I’ve helped them with this problem for 7 months. I’ve driven countless miles, spent unknown dollars on gas and minor meals out with them to talk about their problems. No progress whatever on any of the problems. The result: I’m exhausted and feeling badly used. She is unaware her dementia makes these conversations difficult because she doesn’t know or trust that we have covered these details before.

The ultimatum has been offered: I’ll pick them up Monday morning, take them to their son’s room, and we will transport him to the shelter. This is the last offer I will make. They know it. They accepted. The son accepted. Now I await whether this will actually happen tomorrow. I’ll let you know.

Update: Yesterday came and I received a call from the dad that the son had become frenzied and uncontrollable Sunday afternoon. Dad hired an Uber car, picked up the son, transported him to hospital where they admitted him for observation and calming down. Later in the day I picked up mom and dad and took them to the motel to retrieve their son’s personal belongings, then drove them home. Made arrangements to take them to the hospital Tuesday and drop them off to await the son’s discharge.

Where he goes from there is an open question. The shelter notified the son they will not admit him and think he belongs in a residential facility where he will get the care he needs. Duh! But who knows where and how to get him admitted? In Illinois there are precious few of these places. Worse, it is a mystery how to get patients admitted to them. Kane County doesn’t offer help. The hospital won’t help their patients gain entry to such programs, and other social agencies have turned a deaf ear.

How much wasted time, energy, money and other resources is spent on this type of folly? How sick a society do we have on our hands? We are enablers not carers or solvers. When will this change?

I have no true answer. Does anyone?

October 23, 2018