One Brave Christmas Eve

I sat still, staring at the beautifully created glass mosaic window hung high in the front of the room while my dear heart beating, pumping as fast as the adrenaline allowed it to. My mom to the right my dear friend to the left and another to my front listening intently.  Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Steady your heart beat. Slow and Steady. I almost turned to my left and intertwined my arm with his for some steadiness, some peace but Inhale. Exhale. or what if I reached out my hand to my front to put my hand on her shoulder but Inhale. Exhale. Why is my heart beating so fast?  I'm too shaky, calm down. Inhale. Exhale. The choir stands and begins to sing and my heart steady's to a fast but steady pace. Inhale. Exhale. and I lose myself in the melody and in the angelic high notes of the sopranos and I feel from my feet to the tips of my ears the bass of the organ pipes beautifully being played. I stare and remember the chaos and the amount of times my world has fell apart and all the pain that has stretched me and the muscles in my face that have at times felt too heavy to lift a smile and the tears shed and the screams nobody ever heard and the highlighted frustration for things gone wrong and Inhale. Exhale. I hear the voices of the choir continue and my soul disperses to glide along in the air, dancing with each note sung, momentarily kissed by peace and becoming one with the universe. Then I remember the pain also hugging my dear friends at this time and Inhale. Exhale. I remember why I choose to believe in love. I think of all those whom I do not know in deep pain through all the celebrations, existing, being, breathing. I then wonder of the important night with virgin Mary, perhaps she felt too many things were gone wrong on a day when she'd give birth to the savior. She too must have had her heart beating fast and mind full of stuttering thoughts Inhale. Exhale. be calm she must have breathed to her heart. 

Candles glistening, people singing and all our stories put to a halt so we become one with the universe. Peace comes and gently kisses your soul. My heart finally comes down to a normal rhythm and I realize I didn't have the energy to be there. My body knew my soul could not hold me up this night and adrenaline kept my soul from shutting down. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

Glowing eyes and soft smiles. Hug from her and him and them too. Love from her and him and them too. The pain present but no longer as intimidating. I breathe on my own without thought or reminders this time. I stutter goodbyes and Merry Christmases. I give tight hugs and hope they know they're loved. I stuff some peace in a box and save it for later. I watch her cross the street and watch him get to his car and I see the small faces of my dogs in my car anticipating my arrival. I breathe and look to the lit moon thankful for my friends and the fact I didn't get to face this really hard year alone. I remember the laughs and the clumsy hugs and the kisses on cheeks that always warmly surprise me. I remember all the details and how they became the bright stars in my darkened sky of a year. My heart beats and I feel love inside flowing, pumping within. I remember that I am alive feeling pain and love, experiencing laughter and hugs. I remember the souls that I am now deeply connected to and I remember to breathe. I love my friends and my dogs and chocolate cake and trees and hugs. I LOVE because I am ALIVE. I HURT because I am ALIVE.

I am alive and in pain and in love and thats real. 

Real is okay. 

Real is good.

Real. Is. Great.

Merry Christmas.

Brave Enough

On my knees staring at the dirt underneath my fingernails

Bleeding so many places I keep losing my count

My ears have a heart beat and

The air in my lungs creeping out of me so fast no chance for stable breath

Life around me turning, moving, mobilizing

and my eyes hanging onto it all

Maybe somehow, someway crawling along, bleeding along

with my crys and wails and tantrums

I will catch savory drops of hope in a pain

Capture waves of loving light in my darkened darkness

and with that scavenge enough courage

for my continuance

To breathe out the lies my demons convincingly whisper to me

To mobilize myself with bravery and courage

To achingly get up time after pain stricken time,

for my soul to stand 

with my heart maintaining its soft gentleness,

not closing itself up,

for the world shall not make me hard

My bravery constantly reborn

and so my continuance certain

On my feet staring at the sky,

bleeding so many places I won't continue to count,

Oh, my heart and its beautiful beat,

and the air in my lungs, the air in my lungs

 the breath in my lungs,

life around me moving, creating, beaming

and my eyes glowing with it all

Maybe somehow, someway 

I will joyously live with savory drops of hope

and waves of loving light

I will mobilize myself with courage

and continue so even with crippling fear

My bravery constantly reborn 

and so my continuance is certain

I am brave enough.

Midnight Blue.

I find myself forgetting what it feels like to have a home. The memory emptying out of me and refilling itself with a foggy gray cloud. I find myself sitting on friends couches,burrowed brow, trying to recollect the feeling I once knew so well. I'm losing it, I tell myself. There are parts of me that believe I have already lost it. A part of me believes I can never lose it. That home won't turn into just an idea.

I'm so past the point of tired now. I am so emotionally, mentally stretched that my soul has run out of energy, of life really. My soul has shut itself down in order to protect what little life it has left. Its as a wise woman I know phrased it "recharging". I had no choice in the matter, you see, because I would have still been running even with my deficit of energy. You know how your body rebuilds, heals, and rests itself while asleep? Yeah, its a lot like that. My soul became so tired it checked out whether I was okay with it or not. My life has been so heavy, so energy sucking that my soul checked itself out and I am now a walking talking body on auto pilot.

I find myself strained to feel things deeply. I feel lifeless. I stare into the eyes of the beautiful children I care for every week and feel as if a gift has been stripped from me and now look from the outside to the inside of a world full of feeling I wish I could be apart of again.

I know that my soul will once again become recharged and I know that this situation won't be my forever but right now in the midst of it all my soul is beyond tired. Right now in the midst of it all, my heart is stretched too far from feeling everything and nothing simultaneously.

Recharging is good though.
A slow process but good.

The fact that you’re struggling doesn’t make you a burden. It doesn’t make you unloveable or undesirable or undeserving of care. It doesn’t make you too much or too sensitive or too needy. It makes you human. Everyone struggles. Everyone has a difficult time coping, and at times, we all fall apart. During these times, we aren’t always easy to be around — and that’s okay. No one is easy to be around one hundred percent of the time. Yes, you may sometimes be unpleasant or difficult. And yes, you may sometimes do or say things that make the people around you feel helpless or sad. But those things aren’t all of who you are and they certainly don’t discount your worth as a human being. The truth is that you can be struggling and still be loved. You can be difficult and still be cared for. You can be less than perfect, and still be deserving of compassion and kindness.Daniell Koepke  (via internal-acceptance-movement)

I'm gonna be okay and so are you.

One day at a time,
but if that's too hard then moments at a time.

Full of Suffering and Overcoming

I am in a place right now where my tired soul is sitting in a dark corner. I am overwhelmed and tired and in pain and bleeding and confused and stuck and lost but also fine and centered and full of wonder and growth and I’m flourishing and thriving all at once. I am good and sad and tired and raw and healing and nourished all at the same time.

In the midst of all the tired that we are there is life and beauty and precious treasure. What a loss it can be when it all becomes too much and in turn we get lost under all the weight. The heaviness feels as if it’s sinking us into some unknown abyss and the sorrows overflowing from too many places to give full attention to. The hope in which we own buckets full can lose its endurance and dry up. The ever present idea in which the world doesn't run on fair gets loud and closer than ever before. The uncomfortable slap in the face that reminds us that what we want is not ever necessarily what we get even if we work for it. Among all the different forms that we can be tired in there is much flowing beauty that we can become indifferent to. 

I am trying to see the light and beautiful moments that happen in my life every single day among all the chaos. Every day there is at least one moment made up of pure light and beauty. I try to not let the weight I carry slow me down. I don’t want my life or situation as difficult it may be to box me up into complete bitter unhappiness. I long to move forward and experience beautiful moments. I want to feel, I mean really feel, those moments. Especially when I'm with good company. The moments of laughter and love and right nows. I want to be a safe place for others too instead of always being so caught up in my own world. I want to experience all the good things that are already in my life and the good things that are happening. I don't want to miss those good moments because I'm to busy focusing on the bad. I don’t want to miss the kind and tender moments life gives to me. I don't want to miss the beauty in my life because oh how bleak it is when I do. I want to be awake to feel moments. I want to be alive, really alive not just a breathing body. This is difficult because so many other things are taking up all my energy and there are times where I don't have anything left of myself to use to be awake and nourish my soul. I am trying to survive and thrive all at once. Most days I do more surviving than thriving. That frustrates me incredibly. I am impatient and the slow progress and small steps in which I thrive in are very frustrating. But I don't want to look back at this time and remember only sad things. I want to remember the beautiful moments more. I want to remember the people who sat with me while I was crying or when I become too numb to say a thing.I don't want to be so tired I miss my life. I want to remember the times I laughed and smiled genuinely despite the pain. I want to remember the bits of healing through the bleeding of myself. I want to feel the light and warmth during this difficult time. I also want to be aware enough to still be a light for others and to be able to create beautiful moments in the middle of my chaos.

I know that the breaking of me can be the beginning of great transformation and growth. I truly believe in using pain as fuel for growth. I recognize that where I am is a great platform to transform. I know that I will look back at this particular time of my life and be grateful for my strength and friends and good meals and belly laughs. I know I will look back and see all the beauty and I am going to wish that I had felt things more deeply. I am trying to do so but right now in the middle of it I am not thankful...I am tired and want this episode to be over already.

Beautiful tender moments are vital for the continuance in my journey. Life can bang and beat and tear you apart. It is never as gentle as we would hope it to be. I don't want to miss those precious moments because they can fuel me to keep going because as much as we hurt and bleed and ache we must continue to keep on. Tired you may be or may become but we must not give up yet. We must not yield to the weight of which each of us carries. We must search for peace. We must not forget that there is so much more to life than pain and suffering. There is beauty and light among it all.

There is a pivotal point in each of our lives I believe at a time in which you become tired of getting beaten and hit and torn apart by life and must make an important decision. We must choose whether we will keep moving forward using it all as fuel for growth all while staying soft and vulnerable or if we will want to chain it all onto our souls to weigh ourselves down and in turn become guarded and hard. I refuse to settle with being a victim just because life has happened to hit really hard. I am choosing not to stay in the hole I dug just for my tired 'ol self. Every day I choose. I choose to keep going. Sometimes it gets so hard I don’t even recognize myself. Sometimes some people look at me and see nothing but sad eyes. I am trying though you see. I have not stopped putting one foot in front of the other and doing the next right thing. 

Lets keep doing that. 

Lets keep crawling out of the hole or caves or corners or whatever 

we put ourselves in. 
Lets keep on.
 Lets continue on our journey. 
Lets keep making the decision to stay fully alive. 
To feel things more deeply.
To feel all those beautiful moments
and to be present enough to also create them.

I have not lost my will to stay fully, completely, beautifully, painfully alive. 

Don't lose your will.

Rise friends, Rise!

Imperfect Bodies

I love how bodies aren't perfect.

I love how they are filled with marks.

Like life’s graffiti wall of art

We stand for something,

We own proof of life

Hands with popping veins and bitten fingernails

Wrinkles and Cracks on skin

Faces with lines and stretches and shadows.

Legs and arms made their own with scars and spots

A bit extra or loose here and there

Stomach and thighs stroked with paint like marks

Knees distinctly sculpted

Sloppy birth marks

Eyes as deep and beautiful as the sea

A nose carrying its own distinct posture

Lips so soft and gentle they’ve become a blush of pink

Life has left its masterpiece on you

Stories stored.

I love it.

I love our imperfect bodies and the stories told on them.

Give Me My Secrets Back!

Sometimes I get so scared that I want all the secrets and heart spilled moments I've ever released into the universe, back. I feel so open and soft, so vulnerable. Sometimes I just want it all back to keep for myself. I’d like to gather it all together and forget that anyone ever saw any of it. "Why did I ever think destroying those walls of mine was ever a good idea?? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid." You see, I get scared too. I get frightened of sharing too much and in consequence being too vulnerable.  I get scared of being wrong when I speak out, which of course happens sometimes. I get scared of being unaware of hurting people and being blind to see important sides of something.  We all live with fears that we never let anyone else know about and well, those are some of mine. 

Even with all the beauty and raw human-ness in which vulnerability brings. I get scared. I know that being vulnerable can bring upon great things. I know that at least one person will connect with whatever it is in which I’m being vulnerable about but I still so often get scared.  I get scared and I yell at the universe to give me all my secrets back.  I jump into a puddle of insecurity.  It gets messy and sometimes some people don’t sit well with what you say and sometimes you get burned. I tend to curl into that dark place in my mind and mutter to myself that I won’t ever open up again because you can get hurt. I jumped and I fell and now I have to get back up again. 

Oh no, I’m gonna need some courage.

The other day in admitting that I was scared to a friend she told me that she gets the same kind of scared too and that even though we are scared we jump and fall anyway. I sat with that and something clicked in my head. I realized that the courage is not in the jumping when scared but in the falling and getting back up. Unlike some people believe we are not brave because we are scared and jump NO we are brave because we jump knowing we can fall and must get back up again. We are brave because we know we will have to try again. The bravery is in the continuance, it’s in the trying again. It’s in the trying! SO I realized that yes I may be vulnerable and may not say the right things at times but I am still trying. I have kept on trying. There is the courage, the bravery in which I am so blind to see during those moments of fear with the world. 

We jump and fall ANYWAYS.

So HAH fear! You have not won like I can so often believe. I am winning because I am still trying. I am brave and loaded with courage because I am continuing even after I get burned, and am wrong. I keep on and continue to try. I am brave because I call out my fear and even though sometimes I may not jump; I am still brave. Admitting you’re scared when no one else is admitting it is BRAVE and full of courage.  Brave can be and look like many things. So yes, I share my heart and sometimes I sit alone and yell at the universe to give it all back but I am still brave because I still try.

Have I said brave and try enough times?? 

I don't think soo because NEVER.

I don't know why the idea of me being wrong is so utterly embarrassing even though I know that everyone is wrong at some point and even daily. Its the perfectionist in me. I am still learning about this whole thing of taking up space even when I am not particularly correct thing. 

I am loved. 

We are loved not because we DO but because we ARE.

I am loved not because I do but because I am, 

How many of us continually get caught up in impressing people and accomplishing things in order to be loved or continue to. How many times do we believe we have to be successful to be loved?? How many times do we believe that we must be successful in order to be worthwhile?? I know I forget and believe that a lot of the time. 

I am scared sometimes of giving too much of myself away and being left with nothing.

Thats not a very smart fear. You want to know why?

Its not smart because every time I give some of myself away I get at least twice as much back. I am shown this countless times and yet I still get scared and yell at the universe. Each time you share your heart you will not be left out to dry because someone will always reach back with a piece of theirs. I believe in that. I believe in vulnerability. I adore it. I love that someone can open themselves up some and this raw beautiful stuff comes out. I love that it is a way of saying I AM HERE and flawed and HUMAN.  I am utterly fascinated by people and their way of being. I love that every single one of us has a big remarkable story to tell. I love that everything that has ever happened to us throughout our lives has shaped and impacted us in some way or form and made us into the ever evolving person we are right now, positive or negative.  We are all so different and alike all at the same time. That is so incredible to me, that each individual is contained with such complex and great stories. 

I will continue to remind myself that my courage is there because I am still trying and that I am loved not because I do but because I am. Maybe I'll even work on to stop yelling at the universe but between you and I thats one I keep to keep myself sane. Sometimes you just need to scream at nothing and everything. You know what I mean? NO? Okay, just me then.

You are loved and you are brave.

Keep on.

-Analaura

"Despite what you may believe you can disappoint people and still be good enough. 

You can make mistakes and still be capable and talented. 

You can let people down and still be worthwhile and deserving of love. 

Everyone has disappointed someone they care about. 

Everyone messes up, lets people down and makes mistakes. 

Not because we're inadequate or fundamentally inept, but because we're imperfect and fundamentally human

 Expecting anything different is setting yourself up for failure"
-Daniell Koepke
Creator of the Internal Acceptance Movement on Tumblr
Check it out!

We are Due.

You are due for great things.

Don’t you hear me?

You are due for great things.

You are brilliant and oh so strong

You are due.

No more I’m not ready yets

No more but I’m still a mess

Who you are right now is able and willing

Time to step away from the safe and into the wild

Into freedom

I am due for living into my greatest self

And moving on from who I’ve been

I am a wonderous creation

And it is time I believe

I, me, myself

am due for great things.

Today, Tomorrow and even after

We are due.

The Words in The Corner

The words are still there,
right where you left them,
They float in the corner of the room
Like an imaginary balloon,
Reminding me of when we ended,
make it stop, make them go away,
They've been here for so long,
Yet still burn like the first day,
But i've noticed them wilting,
Lingering a bit low,
As if they are losing air and importance along with it,
I guess this is what they call moving on,
If only it didnt happen so slowly

More time has passed and
Your words have lost their importance and with that, now they are no longer your words but just words
And they no longer float in the corner of the room in my mind, like they once did.
Now, I will throw words up in the air and they are meant for you to see
I hope they dont linger like yours have done to me
But i hope you hear them then let them be
I'm no longer yours and you no longer mine
I am my own and no longer will I settle for left over praises.

Homeless. What Do I Know? Final Part #3

Laughter. 

That’s it. 

That’s the secret.

Life is and will continue to be HARD and pain will always be present somewhere. There will be many, many times you will want to quit.

Break down. Yell. Scream. Pound the floor. Cry in the shower. Reflect. Mend. Grow. Eat that delicious piece of cake. But don’t give up.

OH yeah and laugh. Laugh as much as you can even if it makes you sound hysterical. Life is filled with so much all the time that taking a break is necessary. Do something that feels good.  Laughter is one of those things that can lift you up even if it is just for a few seconds. It’s sort of like that feeling when you change into sweatpants or when you’ve been holding your pee for a long time and you finally get to go.  It’s the temporary ice pack for the bruises of life.  That is how we have survived. That is how we are surviving, well that and chocolate cake, of course. I often make jokes about my situation and most of my friends, shockingly, don’t know in which way to respond. It gets awkward sometimes, well most times, like sip your water a little too long to pass this awkward silence kinda thing. 

I was walking with a friend after church the other day and as brilliant as I know my friends to be this particular line was so perfect my heart did a double back flip. He said, "That's funny, in a sad truth kind of way" and I non-nonchalantly responded with "You gotta laugh at your sad truths sometimes" even though inside I was jumping up and down and screaming with relief because YES! YES! YOU GET IT!! I had been telling my other friend Lori just that a week before! I told her how I make jokes about my sad truths and how I wish people would just laugh with me when I make them. I know it must make my friends uneasy because they care about me and know I'm struggling but lets for a second think of how uneasy it makes ME to actually be in it.To be living it. These sad truths I laugh at are my reality and they pain me too, a lot so I laugh because it hurts and because I'm tired of crying and wanting to cry. I laugh because I'm tired of complaining and I'm even tired of being tired!

 Can this all go away now? Can the happy ending happen already?! Can all our prayers get answered and in return my faith in the divine grow bigger than a stinkin mustard seed already?! I want things to get better just like I'm sure my friends also do but they aren't. I would love to say that because this series is ending that so will this episode of our lives. I would love to say that we are going to be in a home soon and we are somewhat financially stable now but I can't and I probably won't. I wish things were getting better or that we had a better plan of how to get up on our feet and going again but I can't and it pains me like you could only imagine. We feel stuck. So. So. Stuck. The frustration that erupts in me when I think of our situation and the things that aren't happening to make it better. OH God help me! The me of so little faith. 

I use to tell myself that maybe I needed to be more grateful for what we do have in order to be happier with what we get, when we get it but thats not it. Although, I truly believe that I carry myself with an attitude of gratitude more so now than I ever have before which is fantastic but I no longer believe God kept an innocent 10 year old girl from a home because I wasn't giving enough thanks. What twisted idea of God did I have in my head that would make me in believe in that?? 

So I laugh. To keep myself sane. To keep my family sane. To create courage. To continue with faith. To feel good. To win at life for a while. To discourage complaint. To deal with pain. To love more.

To send out positive energy. And because I'm confused and lost and a bit tired.

I continue thinking of how its so easy for me to feel grateful for the little things now but what about when things get better? I am going to struggle with being okay with less because I get to taste a bit of more. I am going to forget the burden that comes with having to go to the bathroom because I'll have one easily accessible in my home. I'll forget the feeling of wanting but having nowhere to go because I'll have a home to resort to. I will forget that people are still struggling and in despair when my life is going great. Thats all so scary to me. I don't want to stop being aware because I'm scared of what will come of it. I'm scared I'll stop feeling as compelled to help. I don't want to get lazy because I'm not living it anymore.

-----

This series could honestly go on longer but because being homeless is not all that I am, I have chosen to end it with number 3. I have gotten such an amazing, overwhelming response throughout this whole series and I couldn't be any more thankful for it. What I set out to achieve when writing each part I believe has been accomplished. I wanted to start a conversation for people, to stir the waters on this topic. I wanted to give perspective from someone people could be able to relate to. I wanted to inform and maybe even inspire. The response has made me feel like I've achieved that and more so Thankyou! Thankyou! Thankyou! 

As for my family and I well I don't know whats going to happen or if its going to get better sooner than later but you bet we will be laughing the whole way through. and with chocolate cake too.

I hope you choose to laugh when it gets hard which to be honest can happen and be a lot of the time. I hope you try for compassion and understanding with things that stir up the waters in you. I hope you love and love well. I hope you choose kindness. I hope you leave your toolbox at home unless you're asked to bring it. I hope you never feel as if you've arrived because closed minds never expand and expanding hurts but its wonderful too, miraculous even. 

I hope when you see a homeless person you feel an ache in your heart and I hope you don't pretend you don't see them. I hope you offer them kindness whether it be in a smile or food and water. I hope you see a homeless person with a grocery cart and remember that they already feel like a nobody and most likely have nobody so all that stuff helps them hold onto that twisted idea of home they now own. 

Be kind everyone and Love well.

-Analaura

Homeless. What Do I Know? PART 2

Choose gratitude over complaint.
 I am blessed.
 I am blessed.
  I am blessed.
This is how we survive.

Maybe finding the grace to stop complaining and whining isn't always the easiest or the most convenient to do but its something that I have chosen to live into and something I do implement into the lives of my mom and Celest. Everyday we are confronted with how much we need but also how much we already have. We can't go through life not noticing the many blessings we do possess because oh how much we would miss. Its true we will always need something and lack another but we will also always have something and be overflowing with another. Our lives are not empty, this I'm sure. Whether they be filled with pain or joy or love or creativity or experience our lives are NOT empty. 

We will always want more its our human condition. We are fed by the media this very ideal. As much as I'd love to say that being homeless has made me realize that I shouldn't worry about how much I have or that its made me want less, I can't. What a big fat lie that would be if I did. I can't say that I would be completely happy with a tiny place because at least its a place to call home right but truth of the matter is I would want more space. I would want a yard for my dogs and a room just for Celest. I would long for beautiful colored walls and pretty furniture.Even as insignificant I know and truly believe all these things are. Even though I know that with how much I have it won't bring upon lasting happiness. I would still be left wanting more. When I remember all this and how my heart begins to whine for more I say to myself "Gratitude over complaint. I am blessed. I am blessed. I am blessed." This has become a mantra of mine and every time I repeat and repeat and repeat it to myself its helps me live into it. Even as desperate and tired as I am from not having a home or catching a break I want to be able to try for gratitude. I want to say in the morning of everyday that yesterday I tried for gratitude so that I can be able to try again that very same day.

One of the many things I have come to know is that when you are submerged into this outcast world of people who don't have homes you are confronted with amazing deep stories and you are forced to look at your own story and see the very blessings you have.  You see the people who are homeless and have a car are the homeless that are at the top because these people have a lot more luxury than all the others. These people are usually the ones who get out and that is by far one of the greatest tasks we homeless have. Although having a car still has its downsides like keeping it legal and running which requires money which is what most of us don't have most of. Those who don't have cars resort to sleeping in between bushes and finding something with wheels to carry belongings. They don't have anywhere to go and finding somewhere to be where they wont call the police on you is such a task. I remember back in 2013 when our car wasnt working and we were on the bus and always scavenging for somewhere to stay and to be during the day. People would often question how someone who doesn't work or do much all day could be exhausted. I'll tell you why because your body or mind never rests from not getting a good place to sleep in at night due to bugs. people,police and even your own safety. You don't rest at night or during the day. Not having a safe place to shelter you and to call home makes a huge difference in regards to rest. It is exhausting not having anywhere to go with no stability or security, It takes major strength to keep your sanity in this situation and we all mutually give moments of silence full of understanding for those who weren't able to keep their bits of sanity. When a homeless comes in contact with another we don't become best friends like most people would believe we are all different as I've said before so we may not get along or agree with each other but we SEE ONE ANOTHER and I believe it to be a magnificent thing. We see and we understand because we are living it right along side one another so there's this silent bit of respect behind each of us for one another.

Most people wouldn’t skip the address question on paper work like I often do. Not having a physical address is quite difficult. The dmv will ask for one and will tell you that it’s not acceptable to put down a post office box. Insurance companies ask for a physical address as well and often deny any request to put down a post office box. We often resort to having to coyly admit to being homeless and anything other than our post office box is just not available. It’s something that boggles my mind because it seems that when you are homeless it’s expected that you disqualify yourself from being a part of society. Isn’t that weird?  It’s like people who become homeless also become less than. How unheard of.  It is a vision some people have with being poor in which you must look like a precious moments character with patches all over your clothes and big begging eyes to qualify. There are so many labels that are so often stuffed into little boxes. So many boxes that we don’t have to settle with, that I won't settle with.

---

Celest started 4th grade this past Tuesday just like a lot of kids here in San Diego did and she is just filled with so much wonder for whats ahead. I love it! I love the girl but YAY for 7 1/2 hour school days with free breakfast and lunch! What a blessing teachers are, am I right? Its just my mom and I and the dogs during the day now when I'm not working 3 days out of the week. I am a nanny Wednesday, Thursdays and Saturdays every week and I couldn't be happier about it. People have always been curious to what I do, if I work or go to college and there has always been so much shame carried in every single one of my responses. I don't go to college and for the longest time didn't have a steady job. Then the following question always came next. Why?? I never know how to respond to that one worded question because for me there's so much to it than just a simple answer. The reason I have always been hesitant to take any job like a waitress or at a fast food place is because I am in recovery. I dont think most people realize how much work recovery takes.  A couple years ago I was so obsessed with the idea that I was better off dead. I was in such a dark place that I would often day dream of my funeral not prom or guys or college. I was fighting for my life and I still am to this day. Although I am in a much better place today than I was even 2 years ago I am still in recovery and I will always be in recovery.  I have gone from giving up the fight and teetering on the edge of suicide to being determined to stay alive and healthy both inside and out. So yes maybe the fact that I haven't gotten a real steady job wherever I can find one is selfish of me to do because then maybe we would have already saved up enough money to rent a place but I will NOT apologize for it. I will not apologize for doing whats best for me. I know that if I got a job I wasn't happy in doing I would wake up everyday and dread going to work and slowly that would slide into dread waking up and that would push me into that dark place I swore to myself I would never go back to. I made a promise to myself to fight and thats what I'm doing. That place is so stubborn and SO hard to get out of. I live everyday knowing that its still there, waiting for me to tire out and give up. That terrifies the crap out of me! So I took the jobs to be a nanny to the most wonderful beautiful children that I LOVE SO MUCH because I don't dread going to do it!! It may not come up to the standard of what some people would like to see from me but I could really care less because I am in such a healthy place right now. People, I'm still ALIVE!! Holy SHIT you don't know how amazing and ENOUGH for me that is. I am loving others and loving myself and life! Thats so fucking AMAZING. I am growing and expanding and becoming a better person with each passing day. How GREAT is that!? I go at my own pace and now just recently have decided to look for another job I can enjoy to work on the days I don't in order to get my family ahead. 

OH how badly I want to let go of all this SHAME that manifests within me because I'm not where I thought I would be or other people think I should be. I don't want it! I don't want shame to make me feel like what I've done and what I do is NOT enough because guess what IT IS enough. It is! It is! Its enough! I'm ENOUGH. So yes I'm homeless and I don't have a job that pays enough to pay rent but I am so alive and it feels good. Its still every bit as hard and I AM tired. OH boy, am I tired but I'm not giving up. I'm staying in community as hard as it is for me and I'm loving others and letting them love me because simply put I WANT to not because I NEED them to. I'm not where I used to be and thank God for that.

I know that we all have that image in our heads of what our homes are suppose to look like and where we are suppose to be and what we are suppose to be doing  and I know that in reality we most likely fall short of that "image" in our heads and I'm here to remind you to stop doing that!! Stop it, because what you do and where you are is SO GREAT and its more than enough!

We are blessed. We are blessed. We are blessed.

This. 

This is how we thrive. 

.Stay Strong Fellow Warriors.

How do you survive?

You just do.

There is no other choice,

no other viable options.

You throw yourself into it,

head first

and make a mess along the way.

Gain a few too many scars,

break some things,

mend others.

Eventually,

you find yourself with 

a couple of friends

and a few precious tools.

You just have to.

You will.

Michelle K., How Do You Recover? pt. 7

Michelle K is on Tumblr. Follow her for more lovely poems about recovery.

Homeless. What do I know? Part 1

I often write about what is on my heart at the time so it makes sense that this blog is all about speaking of my truths. Lately, I have had it on my heart to write about my experience, what I know, and what I think about “homelessness”. It is an intense, personal and hard subject for me so I kept ignoring that message in my head that urged me to write about it. It’s too touchy of a subject. It’s too vulnerable. Will I say the right things? Will I give light to this subject in the correct way? And the big one, what will people think about it, about me??  I am all for being vulnerable and raw and real but I’d be lying if I said I don’t ever get scared when sharing things that I keep safe behind my walls. I thought about it over and over and I’ve waited it out several weeks but my heart just won’t let go of this so as scared as I am, I’m doing it.

While thinking of this subject I knew that one post just wouldn’t be sufficient. I knew that I needed to do a series of posts because theres so much to this particular subject and there is so much I have to say. Before I say anything else though I want to say that everything I write is soley based on my and my familys experiences and feelings and it DOES NOT speak for anyone who has ever been or is homeless although I do have hopes of hitting home and speaking for those who are hidden behind the shadows. I also would like to say that I acknowledge that I am not the only one who has struggled/s  or overcome/ing something difficult. We are all survivors and warriors. Pain is not something you measure.

I believe it’ll be appropriate to start with all my experiences with being homeless myself and how it affects my daily life, the things I’ve learned and how I’ve been treated.

The first time my family became homeless (2005) was about a year after we made a big move from a small town with a population of 40,000 to a big city with about a million or so residents. My mom being a single mom caring for 4 kids in a big city realized that her best just wasn’t gonna pay all the bills like it (barely) was doing back home. We put our things in storage units and kept the necessary like clothes and food stored in our car. I was in 5^th grade and Celest only one. We slept in our car uncomfortably, squished and crowded. My mom had just gotten laid off from her job working as a receptionist and was now working 18 hour days with two low paying jobs and I was missing school weeks at a time. Don’t ask where we showered because most of the time we didn’t. After a while of that my aunt which by the way is our only relative here in San Diego was generous enough to let us stay with her in her house. Well, that didn’t last long at all because after many unsuccessful tries of trying to convince her that we weren’t stealing her things from her, we left. There we went again living out of car and trying to survive. After that we decided to move deeper south into town and were able to get a cheap apartment. Well after about two years we got kicked out due to my brothers disturbances. After that we moved into a condo which we left after two months due to neighbors who were up to no good. Then we moved into a house which we also got kicked out of after two years for not being able to pay the rent and my brothers disturbances. We weren’t making it each month. The rent was too high and food was/is so expensive. We were fighting stay above water and were constantly failing to do so. After that house we moved into another house which we left after about a year and a half due to failure to pay the rent. {Tired yet? Hang in there with me, I’m almost there.}  After that we moved into a tiny tiny place in which we eventually moved out of because we weren’t making the rent, AGAIN. Story of our lives. We moved out of the deeper south of the city and into a lovely part of San Diego called normal heights with our big hearted friend in her small 1 bedroom. Oh did we make it work and count our blessings. That was in 2010 then we found a place nearby in which we stayed in for about 2 ½  years then left due to unresolving issues with my brothers and not enough money to pay bills. 2013 my mom, Celest and our 2 newest additions to the family, my dogs, and I set out on our own living in our car looking for a new home, separate from my brothers. We lasted 3 months then with help from our old church were able to get into a new place. We lasted a couple months then moved out due to a crazy infestation with roaches and an incident involving the youngest of my brothers. Disappointed. We were so close. So so close. We temporarily moved into a parked trailer in a backyard which we rented until after about 4 months when the owner decided she no longer wanted to rent it out and started going coo-coo for coco puffs on us. A lawsuit soon followed. From there we get to now. 2014. It is august as you know and its been four months now since the trailer… {I want to say before I discuss the present how my mom has done her best and my brothers may be a lot of things but they are still my brothers so please don’t hold any bitter judgements towards them. This is my story and they are just a part of it. They have their right to the telling of their own stories}

As I sit here with our car door open sitting watching Celest frolic in the water here at the beach/bay I feel blessed and alive and tired. As you have read we have moved from one intense situation to another and never leaving that intense-ness is draining. We have grown and seen so much since 2005. What an uphill battle yet adventure it has been. It is still hard though. It doesn’t get easier. Maybe we get a little use to it because we know so many of the ropes now but easier, no.

We sleep in our small black suv at this place called Fiesta Island. It’s a beach but more of a bay park area. We stay here every night and have been so lucky the police hasn’t come to bother us to tell us we can’t. Our car is packed with clothes and food and blankets, our basic necessities.  We are so often stared at due to the messy condition of our car from people everywhere we go. I understand its not a condition people usually carry their cars in so I can imagine the “woah” that pops into peoples minds when they see it but some take it a step further and make a dirty face or make snarky comments and some even call the police because God forbid that someone live in their car because ITS JUST NOT RIGHT. I’d like to say that the last part was a joke but sadly its not. I’ve realized that so many people believe it to be a lifestyle choice. That we CHOOSE to live in our car and to struggle. That we like it. Then they coincidedly begin to believe that we are a nuance, a pest, outsiders, people of low moral so the police should come and do away with us. BECAUSE THINK OF THE CHILDREN. Because God forbid some privileged children realize that there are people who aren’t as lucky to have a home. JESUS CHRIST HAVE MERCY, THE HORROR. I become saddened when these things happen because I am so often reminded  the ones who call out our ignorance show their huge pile of ignorance and lack of empathy so much more. I realize that there are so many of us without homes that have to try really hard to blend in and not stick out in the crowd because there is no trying for understanding or compassion from a lot of people. There are gems though, there are some people who see us and smile and may not understand or agree or “get it” but they show compassion anyway. OH how I LOVE to COME ALIVE for those gems. Its THOSE people that get me going, that fuel me up for another day and help me keep the goal of getting out of here. You will not get through to people by judging or trying to fix them that is just about the worst strategy ever that you could use. You create understanding and compassion. You show up with two listening ears and no toolbox.  I’ve been in many situations with friends who feel called to be the savior of our story and come with toolbox in hand to try &  fix what they felt was broken. It has NEVER worked out well because it doesn’t work!! People are not made to fix other people.Even as good and pure the intentions may be. As a favorite quote of mine says

 “You can’t save people. You can only love them”

 That’s what we were made for, to LOVE one another because we BELONG to each other. People are responsible for their own hearts so it goes hand in hand when I tell you that they are the only ones who can change/adjust/fix them. NO matter how much you say or do or try and fix it will do no good if the inscription that makes up their heart is still the same.

Nudges are different. Nudges like smiles and taking time to hear our stories, bringing us warm food, inviting us to shower at your home, speaking to us as if we’re no different because reality is WE AREN’T. Us homeless are real living breathing people who have hurts and scars and stories and friends and needs and hopes just like anyone else. I have come to know so many people with incredible stories who don’t have homes and it makes me sad when people categorize them as something beneath a real person. Does one deserve compassion until we realize they’re different?? No, but that’s the truth for some and its heart breaking.  So I say to you who reads this LOVE AND LOVE WELL even if you don’t get it or understand it or agree with it even if the problem is so evident its slapping you in the face just LOVE and the healing will come in pursuit. Please be aware that although I encourage you to listen and love well it is not me saying to silence yourself. Be loud but also kind. Be fierce but also compassionate. And leave your toolbox at home, please.

My little family is trying to get back up on our feet again and it is difficult. Everyday is hard and frustrating and emotions are always on high and things are said that shouldn't be and cold showers are nice but aren't as nice as hot ones. This is our reality right now more so than ever before and we are making do with what we've got. We are giving gratitude for the MANY things we do have.Like food and clean water and family and friends! I think the best part of sleeping at the beach is letting mother nature do its thing and sing and heal my heart alive. I love how Celest doesn't ever get tired of playing in the sand and swimming in the water. I love how my dogs get to run crazily in the sand because they are big goofs when no life guards or people are around. I love how we wake up and go to sleep watching the sun. I love meeting the many people who stay here who also live in their cars and hearing their stories.I love helping those people and having no one know about it because they're secret acts of love god and I share.  I love watching the ducks and feeding the pigeons.  I love watching a seagull run around with a whole slice of leftover pizza be chased by 5 other seagulls. I even like taking cold showers sometimes ‘cause the sun can get so hot here. I love the sand in my toes and finding sea shells. But even with all those things its still hard and I'm not saying this for pity because I am so not friends with pity or anyone who gives it me. Its still hard because I don’t like the sand that goes absolutely everywhere and in everything, especially my contacts case. I don’t like cold showers on cold mornings. I don’t like always having cold food unless heated up in some store(thanks fresh ‘n easy). I don’t like having to buy ice every single day to keep the food in our cooler fresh. I don’t like how every weekend the beach where we stay becomes overcrowded. I don’t like the way I have to walk a ways to get to the public beach bathrooms just to make a pee. I don’t like setting up our tent on the sand to sleep in at night because they turn on the sprinklers on the grass. I don’t like sleeping deformed in our car when nights get too cold or we get lazy too lazy to set up tent. I don’t like having to get out my clothes from the storage case on top of our car because people stare so hard and it can get embarrassing. I don’t like going to our storage unit every day to get some things out or put things back. But what I especially don’t like is that I can’t say “let’s go home”. Although we do in jokes say Fiesta island is our home its just not the same. I go to other peoples homes with pictures on the walls and spilling dirty laundry and dirty dishes and comfy blankets and I crawl into that sad place of mine because I miss it. I miss not having to do your laundry so often because it doesn't take up square footage of sleeping space. I miss hot water and leaving dishes in the sink. I miss leaving comfy blankets on the couch and cooking on the stove. I miss cold nights in a warm bed. I miss of all that. Even though I have got into the practice of giving more gratitude than complaint, I still miss all of that. I miss having the beach be a maybe rather than a have to. I miss inviting friends and saying lets go home. Lets go home because I'm tired. I'm so tired.

Truth, reality and pain make a lot people uncomfortable. Understandably, because what do you say?? Well, I'm here to tell you there will never be a perfect thing to say because each person and each situation is different so just say what you feel or don’t say anything at all but SHOW UP. I hope you keep an open mind and heart and you stay here with me and keep up with this series.  We can grow together so take a walk with me, metaphorically, although I love to take real walks too. 

If you have any thoughts please feel free to leave them and share them with me because I do very much love to read them.

Please keep on checking for my next post on this series which I have yet to come up with but none the less will happen.

Be Kind everyone and Love Well.

(Please be aware that this may no longer accurately depict our current situation) 

Stand.

I was asked to write something and share on the night of my churchs fundraiser and this is what I came up with. 

I will stand today,

even though it may hurt and may come with much difficulty

even when the ashes of what once was burn my feet

and my toes curl in agony

and my knees shake from the weight that I carry

even with the tears I wear that stain my skin

unwashed, untouched

left there as momentum's of growth

and the mismatched pieces that make up my heart

held together with the glue of good intentions

The pain I've felt forever indented in me,

often replaying itself

The thirst for love my heart beats for

its forever an addict

The cry for rest that yells within me.

the longing for home, for peace, for contentment

Oh, I will stand and I will carry on

and my feet do ache,

my head does too pound with fear,

my knees do shake

and the tears still coming,

the rest to me not given,

my heart still beating,

the light that is mine still shining, still alive

I will stand and fight and continue to rescue myself from the shadows that overwhelm me

I choose life.

I chose life today, 

and I will continue to choose life 

over and over again as hard as it can be.

I'll feel the pain as it comes

in waves

spilling over onto my face

I'll walk one foot in front of the other because none of us were ever meant to stay the same

I will transform,

what a gift to myself

I'll learn and unlearn

I will laugh as often as I'm able for it releases the pressure of all the pain

I'll do the best I can and that'll just have to do

I will not stop.

I've wasted too much time sitting,

fading away

so now?

Now, I will stand. 

Stuffing Pockets or Sharing Books?

I am an open book, a not too flashy, a little worn with some scratches and a few ripped pages book. I don't go throwing myself and vomiting my story at people, well not anymore anyway. I use to run from person to person and throw and stuff all of my stories into their pockets and then I'd become everything they needed me to be just so they could do me the favor of listening. Some would listen politely but none of them ever fully. No one would ever fully grasp and listen. How dare they!? Didn't they hear everything I had been through? Don't you see how strong and special I am?? I constantly stuffed peoples pockets with my stories in hopes someone would stop and SEE me and validate me. I am here! I am here! I would scream. It was just like in Horton Hears a Who when all the people of Whoville scream out WE ARE HERE! WE ARE HERE! I wanted to be noticed because I felt I was often overlooked. I felt small. I had no self worth so I always looked to others to give it to me. I wanted people to love me because I lacked that love for myself and for life itself.

I kept stuffing peoples pockets and you know what would happen? My stories would end up in the lint bin or at the bottom of the trashcan with the receipts. All figuratively of course. They would leave me out in the rain like a penny in a parking lot. I knew I was meant to be something, to do great things but I desperately searched for validation and permission for someone to wave their flag and tell me to GO. I had an unhealthy view of myself and unhealthy expectations of how I wanted others to fill in all my empty spaces. I'd grab a hold of someone and hold on for dear life. I needed people to save me, which they couldn't do or anyone could ever do for that matter. I saw that everyone else had the power. They had the life vest that could save my life if only they could just take it off because they seemed fine and just toss it to me. Why couldn't someone just toss me their life vest? Selfish bastards. All of them.

I eventually learned that stuffing peoples pockets with my stories wasn't the best way to save myself or to get validation. I learned that I would sink other people with me and tire them out. I learned that everyone else is fighting to stay afloat and feel special just like me. I learned that it wasn't all about me and it was never meant to be. I learned that my stories were better off left read by people who wanted to read them or by people who greatly needed to read a story other than their own.
I "rebelled" and said if no one else will do it for me. If no one else will toss me their life vest or read the stories I stuffed in their pockets then I'll do it. I'll read my own stories and be my own life guard. I will learn how to swim and float and back stroke. I will stuff all my stories into a book and I'll read it and love it and learn everything I can from myself and everyone else. I learned to only give my book to the people who ask. I've learned that sharing your story is just as important as listening to someone elses. Other people need validation just as much as we do, so listen and listen good.

One of the most important things I've recently learned is, I've been called to LISTEN. To listen to stories that people try to stuff into other peoples pockets like I did or to read their books. To listen to them. To sit with them. To share my ever growing story. To learn from them. To learn with them. I've learned to stop stuffing my stories into pockets in order to get validation or permission because

I AM HERE. 

I AM LOVED. 

I AM WORTHWHILE.
I validate myself because I have learned that my feelings are valid just for the reason that I feel them.

I see and feel that now. Some days more than others but just like everything else I do, its a practice. Some days I fail and some days I'm great and other days I don't even know but I do try again. Always.

Have you ever stuffed pockets? 

To Those Who May Love Me

To those who may love me,
oh won't you forgive me
for the countless times I am blind to see your love for me.

and for the many days I question it.

How often do I miss the spark in your eyes ignited by my laughter.

or the joy illuminated in you by my sole presence

How unawake am I that I cannot hear when you silently beg of me to be present 

with each warm embrace

Forgive me for pain engulfs me so

 I miss the creative ways you express your adoration for me.

So unaware, I fail to notice your recharged patience for me 

or

The glances you give to me with a sole purpose to remind me,
 you remember, see and have not forgotten me.

 Forgive me when I miss,

the hellos meant to take away every memory of goodbye

 the seconds and minutes used up thinking of me

the prayers spoken aloud for me with thoughtful words

the smiles thrown my way that go untouched by my eyes

the effervescent songs of respect that remain unheard

Forgive me for the many times I can forget to express my gratitude 

and my growing love for you.

But forgive me most for getting so caught up in my universe 

that I forget to remember you and 

all the galaxies that are within YOU.