"Becoming the Change": Poverty & Philosophy

Day 1 of Mission: "Going Homeless" 12/4/12

It almost didn't happen. Plagued by a swarm of emotional issues resulting to a breakdown led on by any of the number of issues facing me lately...Either the meditation that's been releasing up my suppressed unconscious that I've pushed down and numbed for so long--forcing me to face them and deal with them. Or my predestination for anxiety, and swings of emotional highs and lows, aka bi-polarness. Or the fact I actually am facing serious debt and maybe on the verge of bankruptcy caused by my efforts, passions an ultimately my somewhat failed attempts in starting my ventures and working towards my passions...You know I don't know if I believe in God or not...but it seems like life can often times be ironic. During the time in my life when I sought to do one of the biggest and boldest attempts in my life as far as becoming homeless and making a difference through it for others. And there by accomplishing a goal towards the future non-profit i'm working on. It seems like its my only option...that in a weird way I actually need it....I need it more than I could ever plan to give to the program...Which I didn't see coming. The saying "People make plans and God laughs" holds true...at least in fact that things mess up...success isn't a strait arrow path. It's a jumbled up mess of scribble lines. As I sit there eyes still puffed up and red from the emotional drain I had, phone still in hand from speaking with my meditation teacher, I felt refreshed...Still drained but drained clean. I felt I could do it...I felt I would rather go to the shelter than sit isolated in my room. I looked around the room and grabbed several of the books and magazines I'm in the middle of to take with me. One of the books being "Black Like Me" a documentary about a caucasian gentlemen who became a blackman in the deep south of the 1950 segregation. This book was given to me in hopes that I could get something from his story...That I could pull from his experience of diving head first into a world not known by many others on the outside looking in, if they even take a look...because it's to hard to look at...even when you're the one on the inside up to your eyes in it. The one difference though is that.. is not new for me...I've been homeless before. I've spent my time...close to half my life at the bottom of the barrel...moving in an out of treatment centers and jails and JDC...The only difference this time is I'm not as numb. I'm looking at it through new perspectives. A higher level of awareness and enlightenment. I can only imagine how this will turn out this time around. A beautiful quote that I've found to be sooo true says "Research is the art of not knowing what one is doing" So in the spirit of "Just go with it" and Giving it to a God that may or may not be there. I walk. I walk the several blocks It takes to get there. The air is cold and damp, cars with people pass but I barely notice...I couldn't even tell you were my mind was...except for a million different places. As I get close to the shelter I see a man...who I'll get to know a little better later, we'll just call him Dan. Dan is kissing his girlfriend good by. Apparently today was her birthday. As I head in the first thing that hits me is the light...the bright lights of the building...It paralyzes me for a second...until I notice the two Jolly ladies that are working at the desk wile a black gentlemen in factory style clothing, name pined to shirt and all, Charles, is sitting at a table drinking coffee with them carrying on what appeared to be a fun and pleasant conversation....I don't know about other shelters. But what I've notice about the one in Mattoon is that on the surface the people who stay there often times do not appear to be that upset. The setting is not as gloomy as one thinks or it appears in the movies. No, the darkness and gloominess is often hidden from the faces. It's in the depths and recesses of their minds. It's in all our minds..."Hello!" "How may I help you?" says the Jollier bigger lady. "I'm here to get registered for the night" I say. "Oh, okay sweetie just pull up a chair" I grab one the old familiar brown metal chairs I've seen so often in the past...Thinking to my self it's been a while since I've had to do one of these, feel out an intake sheet that is. It's a little weird being back on the other side of the desk. I notice the other ladies belly hanging over her pants and I think to myself..."It looks like she has two pairs of breasts! One above the other" Then I think "That's not nice to think..but accept that regardless I couldn't help it and accept that looks like what it looks like" So I chuckle to my self a little and then go back to listening to the bigger jollier lady. "My Journey from being in the shelter my first time around to now with it's great successes, achievements, relationships come and gone, dreams full field and stomped out and all the failures I've come to know that are apart of it, have led me back full circle. I've heard success often put is two steps forward and one step back. She takes me through the familiar questions I came to know as a volunteer there after my first departure of being homeless. "Have you been here before?" "Yes." "What is the reason for you being here?" At the moment I didn't feel like or know if explaining the full situation was the best thing to do. Knowing that part of my mission is to be incognito as much as possible without lying. I say "insufficient funds" Which is true still non the less. "How long do you plan on staying here?" "Indefinitely." I say. It takes us about 10 minutes to go through the full intake. And after singing my name to a life I'm now committed to for the next several months, I am now officially registered homeless. I pick up my backpack of books and mags and head to the back of the building to find my cot for the night. It's a small group here tonight about 6 of us total, 5 men and 1 women. When I reach the back there is only one gentlemen laying down. He is texting someone...maybe his wife indicated by the ring on his finger. I ask him which beds are available, hoping to get one by the wall..."Nope, those are taken" he says. So I opt out for one of the ones in the middle. I grab my sheets and proceed to "make my bed and lay in it" as the expression goes and which ironically has a literal since to it. I feel too emotionally drained to make an effort in getting to know any of the people tonight. I try and just rest in the fact that I made it up here..maybe in broken pieces...But up here non the less. It makes me think about the saying "When things seem to be falling apart...maybe...Just maybe they're falling into place." Man have I've been waiting for that. "It's been hard not to be so pessimistic lately. It seems that all I see when I look around is pain and struggling and my ineffectiveness to do anything about it. Both within my self and of the world. To know how far I've come and what I'm am capable of... what we're all capable of...but that it's often lead to no avail. That it seems I've given everything I've had spiritually,emotionally, physically, mentally and financially, but it's not enough...I'm not enough. That all my preaching on positivity and pushing forward are null words that are lies. I fear that I can't help no one because I can't even help myself. That for as much effort I put into to trying to better my self or others there is a stronger force that stops me...is it a loving god trying to strengthen me for a bigger purpose? Is it a cosmic darkness that wants to see me fail? Or is it just me and whatever that means? Maybe I've been waiting this whole time and it's been here I just can't see it or accept it. After a cigarette I crawl into the bed for the night. So exhausted that the hard plastic feels oh so welcoming. At least they're not as bad as the ones I've slept on in jail or the Juvenile detention centers I think to meself. I pick up my book "Black Like Me" and begin to read until I slowly drift off to sleep...kind of. It's more like a half asleep half awake trance. My head playing tricks on me. Moving into dreams of a life of possibilities well lived and spent in the shelter and the reality of me being there. It becomes hard to tell whats real and whats not. But all I can do is just be there. Just be present and accept whatever comes. I finally fully awake about 4:50am something. The gentlemen on my left is getting ready to take a shower...maybe that's what woke me up? Joe, the guy that works there 3rd shift who've I've known from my years of volunteering comes back and pats me on the back... I know.. wondering..."What's he doing here?" I merely give him a nod and a quite "high" and he leaves it at that. He accepts this not wanting to push anything further at the moment and lets me be and heads back up front. It's quite now, quite enough to meditate. And as I do my meditation teacher's words start playing in my head from the night before. "Sometimes if meditation is bringing up more than you can handle you might need to take a break from it" But all I can do is push forward. It's that or death for me. Ding.....the buzzer on my phone goes off letting me know my twenty minutes of meditation are up. It's still kind of dark in the back but I'm ready to get up. I look forward to talking with Joe and some of my new found acquaintances. Joe of coarse asks the questions that I knew would be coming and I tell him the short version of what the project is...Still not really knowing what it is myself. Given much has changed since I first purposed this to the different groups and non profits involved. But satisfied by that, we catch up on old times about the place. I start to interact with the group of guys and the one lady who is currently calling the shelter home. It turns out we have good group. No trouble makers and for the most part all relatively happy.... on the outside at least. The lady and I hit it off pretty good with some pretty intellectual conversations about meditation, science, religion and all the crap they put in our foods today. Some of the others there though feel she is crazy...indicated by the circling of the finger to the head when I was speaking with her. Though I did find here to be somewhat disturbed, especially when it came to the topic of religion and science...more explicitly the church of Scientology. I found her to be open at least or was at one point to possibilities and that for the most part she had some insights into some deep topics....which I always love to discuss. It's outside the norm of talking about people or the news.... Maybe that's why they think she is.... Maybe I don't know her well enough. Maybe there is still hope for her. Whatever that means to her. And that's what it's about. Working together realizing that often we are all broken in so many ways. That we can all learn together. To accept where we are in life and try and move forward to together. That there is no hero in tight spandex. We all wear are suites and costumes in our minds and more importantly our hearts. How often do super heroes die and lay at the ways side needing a hero themselves?

Day 2 Mission: "Going Homeless" 12/6/12

You can't come back....(Tonight was a short night at the shelter, meaning I didn't stay long) I sat here in my chair at my apartment,the lease of the terms of agreement not ending until January 15. The plan was to be out by December 1st...or so I thought. But the extension was necessary so my roommate has enough time to get situated. What would I be saying if my actions in trying to understand and prevent homelessness put my roommate in that exact situation? Not good, but it's given me the time to move out in a process and get things situated my self, so I'm not too worried about. But the show must go on. I'm watching scholarly videos on the historical evidence of Christ "Fact or Fiction" for research on another blog I'm working on entitled "Agnostic Philosophy". It's about 6:30pm, getting close to the time when the doors open at the Shelter, 7pm-7am and lunch only from 11-1. My stomach all ready to go because I am actually getting pretty hungry...and don't have money to buy anything given my money had to go to the courts today to keep me out of jail for a fine I had back in 06 on an underage drinking charge. Like I said, life has been quite ironic in making sure I fulfill the part of being homeless and broke as much as possible,ha. I'm wondering what they'll have. Being a kosher vegetarian I realize that the saying "Beggars can't be choosers" means a little more to me now than before. That I'm going to have to bite the bullet, or in this case "meat" in order to live this through. I start getting ready about 7:05 after a couple more posts on facebook a little browsing of my fellow Facebookers posts and A call to my friend and partner in crime Hank, who is helping me do the video documentary for this...No answer. "Damn It! I knew I should have called him earlier." "Oh well should I change?" I'm still wearing my dress pants from court today with an all white shirt and a red and gray hoodie with draw stings that double as broken earphones. To say the least I don't match. I thought about changing before I went up there until it occurred to me that I'm going to be around some of the least judgmental people you can ever meet...at least when it comes to not looking your best. It brings a smile to my face knowing that they'll just look right past all this unmatched mess and judge me on my character. I wonder... is this a characteristic they've developed over time because they have so often been judged by their dress code? Do they see the "somewhat" ignorance in this? Have they developed a wisdom that a good portion of society has seemed to forgotten and overlooked or should I say.. not overlooked. Either way I'm comfortable and I'm going as is. I'll fit in a little better anyways. I grab my Jacket off the top door stop of my closet it hangs on. The Jacket I left in my grandmothers van earlier with my cigarettes in it...I hate smoking, and that I like it so much. A battle I've had a good part of my life along with other addictions. But this time when I quit it's for good!...I hope. I make a half ass attempt to try and grab stuff I'll need for the night by not even really paying attention to what I'm grabbing or doing. In retrospect, ever reminding me that my meditation goes beyond sitting and being aware to being fully present in what I'm doing at any given moment. I'm getting better little by little though. Satisfied enough and my stomach starting to take on more and more of my attention I head out the door. It's dark, but not that cold out tonight. I don't like the cold and am not looking forward to the part when I will actually be sleeping on the streets.. or alleyways or wherever I end up. No tonight I rather enjoy the air. On my way to the shelter I'm finishing up a half cigarette I grabbed from the basement...the only place I smoke when it gets cold, and I wonder who is all going to be up there for supper. Supper usually yields more people than who actually stay the night. Cutting through and crossing the large empty park on my way there I see man in the distant, humble and scraggly looking. I wonder if we're heading to the same place....There I go judging someone based off how they look...and nope he's not. But who knows? Maybe he has been, or will in the future or in a taboo way would "want" to and not know it.. Sometimes homeless is better than a home. One of the things I've come to realize from my previous stay and volunteering is that some of the gentlemen or ladies who do stay at the shelter are more than capable of getting a place but they'd rather be there.. and it's not always because of what you may think. Some of the reasons my surprise you. I know one gentlemen who had more than enough money from his SSI and he didn't drink or have any addictions that we were aware of to blow his money on. His remarks and attitude suggested that the shelter was his "home" the people there were his "family" that to be alone in an apartment by his self would be too much. They would be the self made walls of a prison, a solitary confinement to reflect upon what is truly our only prison AND our only true freedom!... that which is in our minds. We must learn to get beyond our own prisons. To see that companionship has it's rightful place but is not always the best place-- I can relate though...even as an introvert. I've longed and enjoyed places where a brotherhood has been established, even in the most darkest places they can give comfort or "numbness" from an even darker place with in me. I've found them... in rehab..in jail.. In drug users and rebels. These close inclosed quarters allow a freedom in each other and escape from the our mental onslaught of negative thoughts and emotions...I once watched a movie "the Salton Sea" in which gave voice to an unnecessary but wanted and warranted truth "When You finally hit bottom and you know who you are, because you can't go any lower. When you find... a friendship that you wouldn't have found anywhere else. Still and all, there's a kind of intimacy with those that can go the distance." When two or more people have nothing to do but escape in each other it's sometimes beautiful...sometimes sick.. but often times a little of both. In the distance as I approach the building I see people squatting and leaning against the building smoking. "Seriously" I think "Did I read the clock right" I approach them and give a nod and say hello. A couple recuperate the greetings, the others just stare off into the distance or into the thoughts and images in their minds. I reach the door and see people eating. A quite almost unnoticeable "yes" comes from my stomach. The light is not so blinding this time as I open the door. The place is half way packed full of people, some I remember from the other night, some from never. The Kitchen ladies are hard at work cooking and serving with a smile. One of them I have met many times in the past as a volunteer. A blond lady, about 50 something and a unique lisp of some sorts. "You hungry?" they say almost in unison "You betcha" I reply back. I wonder if the one kitchen lady remembers me? It doesn't seem so...Or at least she's good at keeping her wonderment to her self Or maybe she just doesn't judge or think anything about it. Maybe She just understands sometimes people no matter how high they're up can sometimes come crashing down. I would guess one of the latter two given she's always seemed to be one of the most happiest, non judgmental people I've known. I start to sit down but then realize that I forgot to register for the night, which is the policy so they can keep track of their records of who stays and who eats. The lady working the desk, which was my job when I volunteered there, is a lady I recognize as one of the pads's board members when I presented the project Mission: "Going Homeless" to them. She looks at me for a second kind of bewildered as if she's thinking "So he's really going through with it." "It's Kory right?" "Yea" "Oh shoot what's your last name again?" "Stone" I say. "Date of Birth?" "4-3 of 87" . "Okay then, that about does it Kory. Go ahead and grab a bed." "Alrighty, thank you!" A second latter thinking "That's right." my stomach will have to wait just a little longer I need to put my stuff up and secure my sleeping quarters for tonight. I walk back to to the back and see that the bed I slept in the other night seemed to be open again. So I throw my bag under the bed and head back up front. But not before the lady board member of pads stops me and asks how the "Mission" is going. "Fine" I tell her. "Tonight is my second night. It would have been my third but I had to take care of some business in Charleston today so I stayed there last night." She nods--appearing to not really know what to say next accept " Okay,I wasn't sure if you've started or not yet." I just say "Yep" and then Looking to escape the awkwardness I find the chair next to two gentlemen the one were calling Dam and the other we'll call Brian. The Chair is empty and low and behold there is a plate ready for me. I notice it's mack and cheese with meat, a side of corn, some really well mixed up mashed potatoes and gravy and a small piece of cake. I stare at if for a second and think "I wonder if they have something...more vegetarian. But thought it best not to ask given i was hungry and that it would just have seemed rude to me to ask such a question and that it would have went against the spirit of the mission. But I did at least find it within me to ask for a definite food necessity..."Hot sauce" baby:) So after drenching everything I could in it I swallow my disgust, shut up my mind, open my mouth and swallow the meat filed mac and cheese...It's not that bad if I try and not think about it. Plus...being that it's a shelter with limited income they withheld a lot of the meat..thank god,ha! I engage the gentlemen next to me by inviting my self into their conversation about what they did today. "I sat up at the Library for about 6 hours strait. Three of them being on the computer" Alex said. "I thought the library cards only gave you the allotted time of two hours" Said Dan "Yea they do. But Someone left without logging out. So I used up their time and then used up the two hours on my card" "Oh I see" says Dan. After probing Alex to tell me more about his day, he went on to tell us about a day in the life his "homeless experience." A life in which many ascribe too in passing the time when the shelter is closed. A life of sitting at the computer for the restricted time and then of reading magazines of "Motor Trend" and "Hot Rod" waiting for something else to do or the shelter to open up. This eventually led us to a long talk on NASCAR, something of which I know little about but learned a lot about and found actually pretty interesting. After we all finished up Dan stood up wile taking a call of someone on the other line. "Well no work tomorrow It looks like" he said, me not really being sure if he took that as a positive, a negative or had mixed feelings. Probably the later of the three. He told me what he did for a paycheck the other night but I forget already. Something I'm going to have to get better at, remembering those important details that is. And not for the column necessarily. But because it shows you care enough to remember those details about people. I'm sure you've felt it before. Those times you've told someone a million times about something about yourself and they never remember. You get this since that they maybe trying to be polite by asking, but they're inconsiderate enough to not remember any of it. And it usually comes off that way whither they are or are not being inconsiderate. As they all head out to smoke or head home for the night I decide I'm gong to help clean up since it looks like everyone is done. I ask for the cleaning materials. A spray bottle with bleach water and some paper towels and then proceed to wipe the tables down and put the extra chairs up." It's been my philosophy since I've volunteered there and the research I've done on the motivational process of people and organizations that the shelter should be self sustainable as much as possible. Meaning that no matter how broke a person is, with in reason, they should be apart of the process of keeping it up. Instead it's sett to were they are waited on for the most part by the volunteers. There is a great book based on this philosophy called "When Helping Hurts" And don't get me wrong some of them up there do a good job of helping out, but like most things there is room for improvement. Which thankfully is moving into that direction! After finishing up and waiting for the women to come back inside from smoking...men and women can't stand out side and smoke together because of some incidences in the past, I then head outside to smoke myself...But to no avail. I must have put my cigarettes in my back pack because they're not in any of my pockets. I head to the back to get my back pack and stop and see Alex reading a book that looks familiar. It's the AA or "Alcoholics Anonymous" book. But even knowing what the book is I ask him what he's reading in order to build a connection given I've spent 10 years of my life in and out of programs like AA. He tells me and we carry on a little conversation about our own experiences and the possibility of starting a group within the shelter. He goes on to show the gracious, unselfishness brother hood I've often seen within these programs, as to even offer me his "12 and 12" . Which is An offset of the AA based on the 12 steps and 12 traditions. The foundations for the majority of the"anonymous" programs. I decline at the moment telling him I'd probably like tor read it in the future, thank him and tell him we'll talk more about it later.About a minute or two and several attempts to check and recheck and recheck my backpack and pockets within my jackets. I realize I forgot my cigarettes. "Sh!T...mother phucker...I knew it...I always forget something...damn un-mindfullness" Shhhhh..awhhoooo. (breathing out) I knew I had to ask...though I was sure I knew what the answer was going to be. I headed up towards the front where the front desk and keeper of law is. "Is there anyway I can take off for a minute?" "Where too?" the board/desk lady asks. My apartment I say. And the words even though meant in an sincere and apologetic way, facial expressions and all, come across cold and definite. "No, I'm sorry once you're here you have to stay. If you leave...You can't comeback." That was it. I knew the rules and I knew that I had to abide by them just like anyone else. I thank her and head back to my bed. "Thinking to my self" "What the hell am I going to do?" I could "bum" a cigarette. But there is a couple problems with that. Half the people here don't have them and if they do they're not likely to because they can't afford to buy them half the time, a cruel vice in a more cruel world, often leading them to want to hold on to them and the ones that can afford them are usually tired of giving them out to the ones that can't half the time. My pride won't allow it. I can go homeless but I can't ask a homeless guy for some cigarettes. Try and figure that one out! And two, I have a long night ahead of me. I have to stay up too at least the earliest of 5am in the morning so I can sleep in the rest of the morning to be rested up to stay up to work my 2nd/3rd double shift at my job tomorrow. "God...why does crap always happen to me?" "Why can't things just run smoothly" "This is b.s! Here I am trying to help people and life keeps messing crap up for me" "Okay enough of the pessimism negative Nancy. You're just going to have to accept what is"...and unfortunately that's not staying here tonight. I'll just have to pick up were I left off on Monday night when I'm done with my weekend double shifts. I grab my bag and head up to the desk and explain that my addiction to death sticks are more powerful than any intention to stay here tonight. She looks at me like she understands and says "Okay sweetie" I tell her I'll be back on Monday night and head out the door telling everyone goodnight....Did I mention I hate smoking?

Mission: Going Homeless "The 5am Caller"

Hey Joe I need to talk with you for a minute...in private.------"You know Kory it's funny you're bringing this up to me. He called me at five o'clock in the morning yesterday asking what you where doing up here." "Really" I said. " I didn't even know he knew I was Pat's son let alone was up here...That is crazy! How'd he find out Joe?" "You know Kory I don't know. But he's was not happy about it! Going on about. Kory has know right to be up there! He has a Job...probably making 15 and hour (which is not true)...has an apartment with his dad. (Which is also not true) He's just coming up here to start shit with me. You guys have him coming in undercover to try and get to me. I know it. I'm not going to stand for this. I'm going to call the board and talk to them. He has no right to be up there." " REALLY? WOW. That is so crazy Joe...I was hoping I wouldn't get pulled into this. I'm just focused on the mission right now. I don't care to have anything to do with him." ------- This is part of a continuing conversation Joe and I had from the first day I went up to the shelter a conversation that was an accident to be honest. Joe asking "How's your father Kory?" Leading me to answer honestly with the good and the situation at hand. The funny thing was that Joe was able to pick up on who it was with out me mentioning a name or a physical description just his actions in regards to others. But to understand it requires telling the back story..and what a story it is! But we'll get to that later.---- I make it up the shelter just a little past 8 o'clock. Supper has been put up for the most part aside from Charles the volunteer eating some "Chicken on a stick." The other lady volunteering tonight, I didn't catch her name...did I even ask? But she asks if I'm hungry and I tell her "yes." She's a bigger lady and I can't remember if she's the same one from the other night or not but about mid 50's early 60's I would say, with white hair, glasses and an easy smile on here face. "It's KFC tonight." She says enthusiastic about it. Not knowing I'm a kosher vegetarian and against KFC's practices when it comes to handling, housing and the killing of there "product." For those of you who don't know a "Kosher Vegetarian" is someone who try's not to consume anything from animals that are raised or killed in-humanely or add harmful ingredients such as but not limited to hormones and antibiotics to their diet...to grow them bigger and faster and keep them from dieing due to the disgusting tortures environment in which they live. But alas I have little choices here. So I thank her and proceed to eat the chicken. I must admit that it is good while I'm at the same time I'm disgusted. I am only two put down two of the 4 pieces she put on my plate along with the corn and fruit on the side. I ask if anyone else is interested in the other two pieces. Charles tells, with a mouth full of chicken on a stick already in his mouth, to "Put it up on the shelf and I'll take it home latter." It makes me wonder if Charles based on his humble appearance and the way he's going to town on the food that he's just inches above poverty himself." Then again maybe not. I've eaten better there than I have at home in quite some time, aside from the meat. People are always bringing food up left over from parties or banquets or just out the care of there heart. I clean up my area and head outside with some of the other guests to go and smoke outside. "I'm about out of cigarets" Dan says with a facial expression of someone who's said that a lot lately. "Tell me about it." Says Peter" "I had to pick up two days' worth of cans and take them to Harges's to get money to buy some. Got about 16 bucks, not to bad I guess." I ask what they usually do to make some fast cash and they tell me there aren't many options except for collecting and selling cans, pan handling, which is illegal in Coles county or hitting up the churches for money." The later being somewhat of an issue for some. Since others have been known to take advantage of the churches hospitality to only turn around and spend the money on drugs or alcohol. "It pisses most of them off because when someone could actually use the money the few choice others spoil it for the ones who could actually use it. We get on the conversation of jobs Peter tells us his challenges with finding a good job. "I've put in several applications today. One back at County Market over there. Heck I don't know how many applications I've put in at county market." I concur "Heck back in the day when I was looking for a job I put several in there as well and did check ups on my application. But never got any phone calls" Yea- peter says" But the good thing is I've got hope about getting a job at Freddy's." A new restaurant in town that is trying too hard to be like Stake-n-Shake if you ask me. "The same people in town who own the Arby's down on Charleston ave. Told me I was too qualified to cook there when I put in my application and so they were going to see if they could get me a position out there at Fredy's. Which hey, doesn't bother me. I've always liked cooking and at this point I'll take what I can get." After finishing our smokes we head back inside and each go about making the night interesting as possible. For the most part that requires a lot jesting each other, telling jokes and stories, getting on the computer they have for us and playing some cards here and there. I grab my book "The Moral Landscape- How Science can determine Human values" A book I'm reading for a book study with some friends and that apply to some moral issues regarding poverty, the people in it and how we as a society deal with it. It's proved to be both enlightening, interesting and confusing at times. But the basic argument is that Morality, which has almost universally been excepted as subjective/relative to cultures or rooted objectively in a higher power of some sorts, has to be re-framed and equated with the "well being of conscious creatures" Or other wise it can give way to calling atrocious acts in the name of culture or God to be good and moral. Such as the belief held with many Muslim groups in the forcing of veils and education prevention of women to the point of any resistance equates to death or tortures acts as in the case of the little girl Mala. Or where the cultural practice of certain permitive tribes to cut off the "clitoris" of young women because "women are not to enjoy sex." The fundamentalist christian view that people who are born gay should not have the rights of others because what homosexuals view as love... to fundamentalist is considered to be an "evil and amoral" act and to allow it would invoke "God's wrath." This is a view with the same reasoning applied to being born black during the days of slavery and segregation. Or cultures of extreme evolutionism such as Hitler's Nazi party or Pol Pot who thought the most moral thing to do was to rid the world of it's problems such as disease and ignorance through the annihilation of races they considered un-pure. It should be obvious that these sort of practices in the name of "God" or "Culture" are not in the best interest of an overall well being both personally and universally. Because in reality these things are not rooted objectively in a god or culture they're rooted on man made scriptures and cultural practices of the past. They invoke fallacious infallibility and out dated traditions based in ignorance of our current evolved understanding of what well being means. But even the perpetrators of such acts are as much a victim to their own ingrained thinking as the ones they harm. If they only new that they themselves are caught up in a life that is not being lived to the fullest extent of the word "Well-being" cause it goes against the golden rule and the fullest spectrum in which that can be applied. But if people of any and all faiths understand that morals should be understood and are based on our ever expanding and understanding view of what well being is, then we have somewhere to stand from and grow. Because that's what it comes down too. Wither in this life or the next...You can't escape that morals need to be rooted in "the well being of conscious creatures" But I do love that he poses the argument that morals take on a "landscape" nature and that their are often times not direct black and white solutions. That there could be many alternatives to well being and the lack there of, within the reasoning of well being, and that well being still has room for growth and a better understanding of it. He uses the analogy of "health." Our idea of health 100 years ago is not the same as it is today and within reason has room for different values on how to be the healthiest. This applies to poverty in many ways and how we deal with it. In which I will explain a little bit about later.----Ten O'clock roles around and Joe, the third shift worker, comes in an hour early as usual. And on cue some of the other guys in the room start rassing on him with him giving it right back. Joe is a bigger guy mid 50's to 60's. Usually sporting a hat and a Jolly smile. A country boy appeal to himself. I tell him "Hi" and he start's to get settled in a bit, letting our good hearted friend Charles leave for the night...my chicken from earlier wrapped up in aluminum foil in hand and takes of out the door wishing every a good night...Charles is a wizard mechanic, can fix anything with a motor...and the best part is, he LOVES his Job. I love hearing people tell me that. I got the since that outside of mechanics his formal education might not be that high, which is probably a good thing in many areas. Considering it probably allowed him to learn how to think and what to put priorities on in his life like...Do following you heart and loving others. Not follow the money and love others who can help you. His vernacular may suggest a lower standard education but his "words", actions and heart suggest a wiser man than most. And wisdom is far a greater characteristic than just being an societies version of intellect.--- I wait for a while just talking with Joe and the others, biding my chance to ask him the question my father wanted me to ask. A smoke break came, which happens often here, and the ones not in the back laying down started to head out side. Joe a smoker himself lagging behind a bit was the last one. When it was just me and him in the front I figured this was as good a time as any I said "Hey Joe, I need to talk with you for a minute...in private." looking at me for a minute with a puzzled look and says "Yea what's up buddy" And just as I was about to ask. Peter came up front.....I look at peter for a second then thought, "damn."....."Ummm, never mind Joe..I'll just ask you later." He looks at me with an even more puzzled look and says in a voice that amplified his confusion "Ookaay?" and then slowly heads out the door. I go on about reading my book for a while, while some of the others start to get ready for bed. At this point I'm about ready for a cigarette my self and I putt on my jackets and head outside....Joe following shortly afterward. "So what did you want to talk to me about Kory?"------Like I said for you to understand the story you need to hear about the back story. A story that starts about two years ago. A story that starts out as about most do. A story as old as time and as deep as the wounds it left in our 5am caller. A love story of tragedy, but so far with out an ending.One in which left both people broken up and shattered by it. The only difference is..is that one of them, unable to let go, decided to pick up the broken, sharp, piercing pieces and go on the attack, slicing through every remaining person close to the girl... that got away...but barely...and always seemly in his reach and in his obsessed mind. "Bobby Hall Winters" a Big guy about 340 5"10 sandy blond hair with miss matched clothing. The description I got from the "one" time I saw him...from the front seat of my dads car as m father pulled over next to him on a side walk then jumping out in a fire of furry and indignation, threatening to stomp a foot up his ass if he didn't leave his girlfriend and him alone.--- Bobby was at one point seeing My father's Girlfriend's best friend "Daisy". Daisy, a sweet girl at heart and mother of two trying to find here way through what many might call a tough life, has made here fair share of bad choices when it's come to finding love. But with this one in regards to topping the cake would not be an accurate description...he's a whole other cake to him self. The damage he's left in his wake of vengeance has spread through boy friend to boyfriend Daisy met after him and even my father. Going so far as to smash countless windows in cars and homes, calling their work reporting make shift lies about anything from drug abuse to child abuse. Putting restraining orders on the people too Calling DCFS....even being seen at the bus stop of Linda's littler girl. Linda being my father's girlfriend. But the craziest thing about this guy is that he seems untouchable and to find out everything. My father, trying to do the "Christian" thing by not resorting to violence or trickery, much of that of what are friend Bobby is known for today and my father was know for before he took his faith seriously, has resorted to trying to build a case on him for over a year now. But to little to know avail. Always seeming to slip through the cracks. He was even caught on camera smashing Daisy's current boyfriends windows in his vehicle and home. And as of so far there has been one court date...but with finger prints missing from the file was let go. From the report my father has gotten from speaking with several of authority figures cops and judges, all he has gotten so far is "Pat there are forces at work here above us is all I can say" "Pat, I'm not allowed to look at your file...I could get in trouble" "Pat, you need to stop asking about Bobby." Honestly I have little to know Idea who this mystery man is but all I know now is that he's aware of me...and thinks I'm out to get him. Though a part of me is slightly worried what his plan might be...if he has one other than trying to get me kicked out of the shelter in which I was assured was not going to happen, I'm at peace with whatever happens. Call it a reliance on a vague sense of a higher power of some sorts...whatever that means Or my years of training to have serenity in accepting the things I can not change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference. I do not believe he is untouchable and he will see his day...and soon. Justice has a way of working it's self around...maybe not in the way we want or think it should and if it doesn't then Justice's sister Karma will make sure of it. Bobby is no stranger to the shelter, he him self apparently has spent many nights up here eating or staying the night. And apparently the consensus of the group within the shelter find him to be many negative choice words. His bridges are being burnt left and right...loosing solid ground to stand on, he'll find him self Isolated and alone...that which he's been running from...in his hopes of it being into daisy's arms.-----Now many people would say that this person is behaving is amoral and they would be right but we can not say that he is necessarily amoral or evil. It's not entirely his fault and to call him an evil man is simply not understanding what we know today in regards of certain areas of science, neurology, psychology & sociology among others. As Sam talks about in his book these issues derive from a genetic and social frame work. For example people with who are labeled as psychopaths lack certain connections in the brain that allow them to feel empathy or sense it in others. Their brain was simply not wired the same way a normal persons is and depending on the severity of those factors along with the social environment in which they grew up or are in presently, they feed off each other producing the results of ones character making it more positive or negative aka "Good or Evil." This also goes into how we deal with these types of people. We have built a society that wants to punish or strictly condemn negative behavior more than understanding it or trying to resolve it. This type of philosophy does little if anything in behavior control. As given by our statistical evidence in the areas of repeat offenders in almost any area of crime and or poverty.Imagine if we reversed this view point the countless numbers of people who, once was seen as burden to society, are now seen as positive contributors....Makes you think and hope...I hope.---- I put my arms around Joe's back and give him a couple pats on the back and tell him "Thanks for looking out." He tells me "No problem and that he has my back." The question I needed to ask him in private was, If my father would be able to speak with him in regards to Bobby, since Bobby confided in Joe about some of his mischievous deeds. I just had to make sure no confidentiality agreements were being broken in doing so. He assured me since Bobby was not registered up here at the moment that it would not be any problem. Being comforted in the fact and finished with our cigs, We head inside and Just as were taking off our Jackets and I telling Joe that I would let my father know...the door opens and in walks my father almost as if it was a cue. "Hey dad!"I say a little freaked out and confused and frustrated that he would come up here with out me letting him know it was okay. There was no point in asking him what he was doing up here, I knew what he wanted and not knowing if it would be a good idea to get him to say it out in the open with a couple people still being up I just ask "Did you try calling me or something?" Thinking maybe he tried and was not able to get through to me so decided to come up and check. He says no and just gives me a hug then says hello to Joe with his big smile and warm personality, long blond hair tucked under his Harley Davidson hat with matching H.D. black Jacket.I try and gauge Joe's face and he not only seems okay with him being there...also knowing what dad wanted to talk about, But seemed to be glad he was there. We all pull up chairs around the main desk. Peter, the only other one up now sitting at a desk next to us checking messages on his facebook seemed to be not that interested in what was going on. After some initial formalities of "How's things going my dad and Joe jump right into the conversation at hand. I wait for a little bit of a break in between and ask Joe if he is allowed to disclose the conversation we had outside just a minute ago about the phone call. He says sure and proceeds to tell my dad the story again. He say's he's not surprised really but wonders how Bobby found out about me and me being up here. As suspected though his fatherly instincts kick in and he tells Joe what I've heard him say before "If he ever tried to hurt Kory though that would be it! I will go to jail for that I don't care!" Even at 25 and being a former Muay Thai kick boxer/ MMA fighter and coach I'm still his baby boy...but that's what they say. "You never out grow you're parents out look that you're still their little one." What did surprise me though was that Joe second it. I mean I knew we've built a good friendship over the couple years of me being a volunteer and we both had a tremendous amount of respect for one other but I had no idea he'd be willing to go to jail for me so to speak...Feeling a little overwhelmed, tired and a sense of "how about them Cowboys" awkwardness I tell them both I'm heading in the back to pass out for the night. I hug my dad one more time and give "Joe" another pat on the back for good measure and to show I appreciate his brave words of daring. I head towards the back thinking about the night earlier, the fun it was just to hang out with everybody and crack jokes and tell stories of our achievements, our failures or past "romantic partners" ....You know guy stuff. The new lady that came in tonight. A pretty and well kept lady about mid forty's to mid fifty's, with brown hair and only her upper dentures in. With one of those voices that suggested she'd been smoking for a long time. Her personality fit right in with our crazy group so far. Dan, a tough looking tall middle aged guy with dark brown hair, mustache, scattered tattoo's and working mans appearance. Tim, a quick witted slightly older gentleman who's always got something funny to say...which usually is funny. His wicked mustache moving as rapidly as his quick witted comments. I don't know if I've ever seen him without his stocking cap on though...it makes me wonder if he sleeps with it on. Peter, a sandy blond haired man with a kind face and just several inches taller than me, makes me think he could look like a liberal college professor who doubles as a blue collar worker. I've known Peter from the past years at the shelter he's a guy that seems to wear his heart just under his sleeve and really wants to make a difference in his life. And then of coarse Gigi, the girl everyone thinks is a little out there. She's the most mysterious though so far. She mostly keeps to here self, smokes and drinks coffee like an old time sailor and keeps a some what agitated look to her. I just keep trying to break the ice and build communication with here. Sometimes she responds...sometimes she doesn't and just looks at me or ignores me completely. I don't know what it was about the first night i stayed in which she opened up but that's okay. I just continue to try and build a positive relationship in which we can grow in. As I lay down I can here Joe and my dad talking away in the background my mind drifting to that, the events of the day and what tomorrow holds which is going to be a full one realizing I that I need to get some sleep if I'm ever going to have the energy to last through tomorrow. So that's what I do I slowly start to drift to sleep.

Mission: Going Homeless- "Why don't you just get a job buddy?"

I wake up tired from not getting to bed early. The conversations of last night still faintly rolling around in my head. "What's Bobby going to do?...Should I call my work and see if he's tried calling there? How late did my dad stay last night?" I shake these thoughts out of my head, the light shining brightly above me and the groans of others beside me from not wanting to go out and face the cold bitter weather. A couple jokes as usual pop off "Hey Joe! turn the light off on the way out will ya?" "Hey Joe! come and cuddle with me and keep me warm." "One more hour Joe, we won't tell anyone." I lay there for a minute thinking if I should meditate now or later. Now is ideally not the best time given the commotion going on around me but as one who knows the scientifically proven tremendous benefits it has in numerous areas... I'm always wanting to promote it...even by example. I opt out deciding I'd probably just fall back asleep anyway. I have a habit of doing that when I try and meditate when I'm tired. It causes me to do what is called the "Buddha Bob" in many circles, though meditation transcends any and all religions and philosophies. Scripturally speaking both Christ and Muhhamed practiced and taught it as well. I pull the covers off me. I'm still fully dressed in the clothes I had on, minus my socks and shoes. We are suppose to take our sheets off every morning to be washed but aside from the first night, I have been leaving my on. Though one is not allowed by the rules to reserve a bed, it's an unspoken rule that as long as the place is not full or over crowded then one's bed is there until they leave for good. So seeing that no one anytime soon is going to be sleeping in "my bed" I don't see any health violation reasons to change them after every night. I put on my socks and shoes and head up front. Upon entering there I find an enormous amount of french toast awaiting our arrival. Joe went to town on cooking last night wile we were tucked away under our blankets. " I must of cooked about 40 pieces of french toast." He said half laughing to him self. "Gees Joe, that's a lot of french toast! You are a french toast making machine." I reply. "Well I figure there is enough here for everyone." A big smile on his face. "I'd say!" Thinking to myself there was way more than enough for us and our families." The others who have not made it up yet are starting to fill in. One new guy who I did not meet last night due to him being asleep before I got there. Jack, an older man, white hair with a clean goatee and some stubble all around it, who I knew was not new to the shelter. Tim comes in behind him making a joke about "chicken bread." "Chicken bread I say with a puzzled expression?" "Yea cause french toast is made of eggs and bread...duh" He whips back with a smile on his face. Joe warns us that one of the bottles of syrup are watered down and to watch out for it and that he should throw it away...though he doesn't get to it, getting distracted by something else. We all eat and talk about what's on the agenda today. For me it's a full productive day...even by my standards! Starting out with a genetics conference out at lake land in which one of the worlds greatest geneticist will be speaking on the latest cutting edge stuff in the field biology and genetics. Something my grandmother invited me to and I accepted with great interest knowing the field has a lot to do with the mission! It starts at nine and will last for four hours. Seven O'clock comes rolling around, our time to leave the shelter. I'm out the door first wishing everybody a good day and on my way out thinking to myself about the balance I must live of being homeless and being a professional. That in some sense I am way to far past in my enlightenment to really experience it. What people don't typically realize is that poverty is in the mind about 90% more than it is in their circumstances. Something I've come to learn through studying and experiences in my self and others. The first time ever getting a glimpse this was at the age of 17 in rehab...The one thing I took from it shortly after I left. That I am, within reason, in control of my thoughts, emotions and over all attitude...the one thing that drives our behavior. Charles Swindle Put it this way "“The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, education, money, circumstances, failure, successes and what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a church... a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the way certain people will act in certain ways. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our Attitudes.” Or to sum it up nicely Henry ford put it this way "Whither you think you can or think you can't...You're right." This true philosophy though is only possible if One is to first hear about it and then also hears about it enough to understand it fully to have it wired in. This is a life long process sometimes but I did not come to understand better untill I was 19 and in my 5th year of high school at Charleston High. It was a final in psychology class in which the teacher said we were able to give a report on anything within reason that was related to the area of psychology. The book I chose was "You are what you think" By Doug Hooper, a book I hope in doing a book study on here at the shelter. It was the first of countless many books related to the subject of self development in which I've read. It completly altered the way i thought about how I think. The book points out that people such as the ones in poverty have vastly different thought patterns than those who are considered wealthy or successful. Someone who's thought process equates to images and thoughts of "I can't do this, this is to hard, I'm not good enough, smart enough or capable of enough" will give rise to emotions that fuel our actions. Now contrast that with a thought process of someone who thinks " I can do this, I know it will be challenging but challenges keep things interesting. I may not be smart enough now but I can learn on my own or from someone else and become smart enough and through that I will become more capable of achieving my goals or dreams." The results and evidence of a positive psychology has become so accepted it is now a class in and of it's own throughout many universities and often, if not the most popular class, one of them. Achieving success often times is a b!tch no doubt! And it is not for the weak minded. But that's we have to strengthen it. Our mind is like a muscle it requires daily work outs just like any other muscles does. Zig Ziglar puts it this way. "People often say that motivation doesn't last. Well, neither does bathing - that's why we recommend it daily.” I like to use the analogy of thoughts as pathways. A thought is like walking across the grass one or two times wont' do much but if you continue to walk that path, repeat that thought you will start to develop a path way or connections in the brain. Continue more and eventually that pathway will turn into a road...then even a super Highway. And what happens after you going through that pathway? Eventually nature will take it back and cover it up. This is the main criteria the differs a life of utter failure and success. Though these things can and do depend three factors such as our mental and social environments as mentioned whither intentional or not, Is it one that is conducive to feeding us positively. meaning what goes into the brain our brains will spit back out through emotions and actions. Our genetic dispositions in the way our brain is wired and our physical health. Through the completion of the "Human Genome project", the largest scientific study ever in the world. In which Scientist over thirteen years and spanning over 20+ countries mapped our entire genetic biology. What they discovered was AMAZING and still continues to BLOW the lid off what we understand about our selves and our possibilities. At the least our genetics affect everything if not there being literally a gene for "Everything" from the ones we knew about such as physical characteristics to the ones we are aware of now like diseases such as Alzheimer's gene, diabetes gene & alcoholic gene to personality types such as an aggressive gene or funny gene. The majority of them being polygenic or multifactorial, meaning many factors environments biological and social included. For example someone with a predisposition of the happy gene of lets say 70% is going have their brain wired to be pretty much happy most of the time regardless of their surroundings, within reason of coarse. Compare that to a person with a predisposition of someone with a happy gene of lets say 30% is going to have their brain wired to be more negative regardless of their circumstances, within reason too. This is why we can see people born into little to nothing and have horrible things happen to them but they rise above it and become successful. Wile others can have every opportunity to succeed and live a happy life but they are miserable and continue down a negative destructive path. The wiring of our brains though can change, within reason, to our environments. It's called neuroplasicity. Now I don't claim to fully understand how both of these factors work together but depending on the strength of our genetics in any certain area determines how well we are susceptible in changing these characteristics through our environments alone. The good news that this genome project has opened up an entirely new field of science in which genome therapy and more personal forms of medication can now be applied. Meaning the more advanced it gets our access to treat the worse case scenarios in which environment alone proves too difficult to change, such cases of extreme anxiety, psychopathy, addiction and more, can be treated at it's root cause. Aside from the more extreme cases though we are all wired genetically and environmentally to have strengths we can work with. A great program I have came to love is through the "Gallup Organization" the biggest organization for conducting surveys and poles. It's called simply the "Strengths based Program" And it's revolutionizing the way structure our organizations and personal lives. There are many books on the subject but the best one to start with is "Strengths-Finder 2.0" by Tom wrath. It works by taking a test online with a code in the back of the book. And from that It will spit out your top five strengths. From this they have various programs and teachings on how you can live you life and work a career in a way that will suit not only what your naturally good at but would be the most happy at living and doing. As I sit here typing this at 3:34 in the morning at the shelter the 3rd tri-factor is starting to kick in, our health. There is a reason we evolved to have brains attached to bodies. Our bodies work as a tool for the brain to accomplish it's will and is directly connected to it. If our overall health becomes Jeopardized then so does the health of our brains and their ability to act which in turn effect our overall ability to act. For example the food we eat directly effects our mental out put and consciousness just like drugs can. So can a lack of sleep. These are both issues that effect poverty in big ways. Our brain is like a car. A car needs gasoline, oil, brake fluid and other materials to run properly. Your brain also needs special materials to run properly: glucose, vitamins, minerals and other essential chemicals. For example, the fuel (energy) for your brain is glucose. You can get glucose by eating carbohydrates or other foods that can be converted to glucose. Your brain must manufacture the right proteins and fats to do things such as grow new connections or add myelin, the fatty sheath to axons. You do this by digesting proteins and fats in food and using the pieces, that is, the amino acids and fatty acids, to make the new brain proteins and fats. Without the correct amount and balance of particular building blocks, your brain will not work properly. Too little (deficiency) or too much (overabundance) of the necessary nutrient can affect the nervous system.* Many of these things are needed by the brain and body but are not produced by the brain or body. Therefore, these materials must be taken in as part of the diet. As sit here I am noticing how my lack of sleep is starting to directly effect my mental out put and mood. Insufficient rest can also cause people to have hallucinations, tremors or slurred speech. Lesser amounts weaken the immune system and could lead to depression, heart disease or hypertension among other things.

The consequences of lack of sleep involve more than just feeling tired. Proper brain function is linked to the importance of sleep as adequate sleep is essential to the health of our mind and body. Without proper rest, the brain works harder but less effectively to counteract the myriad effects of sleep deprivation. Concentration levels and reaction time drop, memory and vision becomes impaired, decision-making abilities and Judgments are compromised, the brain falls into rigid thought patterns that make it difficult to generate new problem-solving ideas and think creatively. It is difficult to memorize and recall information as our mind becomes groggy. It effects or Psyche, meaning psychologically, sleep deprivation can lead to other negative effects including moodiness, irritability, aggression, burnout, additional stress and depression. Which can lead to an over abundance of bad sleep in turn leading to other negative effects as well. When we do not get enough sleep, our body does not have the opportunity to do things that are essential to keep us healthy. The body recharges and heals itself while asleep, and works to fix chemical imbalances while ensuring blood sugar levels are at proper levels for the following day. Based on these facts, the importance of sleep should be evident and when people are environments that are not conducive to proper nutrition and sleep then there can become a vicious cycle in which one finds it almost impossible to escape...Add to this a drug and alcohol dependence or mental issues and one starts to see that poverty and homeless is not as simple as..."Just go get a job buddy!" ......P.S. seeing these connections is easier for me, given one of my very top strengths via the strengths program, is "Connectedness" Good night;)

Mission: Going Homless "Too busy to be homeless"

I show up to the shelter just a little before 8 p.m. My good friend and partner in changing the world Trevin Mckee drops me off. Trevin is the one that offered to let me rent a room as an office/flop house. He is a always full of spunk and nervous laughs. A brilliant man with a big heart, big vision and wise advice... when I can understand his mode of "thinking out loud" which often come in the form of vague concepts and an ability to go off on tangents. To say the least he always requires me to really think about things. We have worked on many projects together including being in business together on our last venture before it went belly up. I am dressed in light blue jeans, a light blue dress shirt with light brown pinstripes underneath a light brown suit jacket and dress shoes to match. An outfit that puts me out of place at the shelter. Trevin and I had just returned from our weekly Toast Masters meeting in which I am, as of this year, the president of. I have with me three bags and a portable filling case. One of the bags is a black Everlast bag with yellow pinstripes complete with handle and wheels included. It use to hold all my fighting gear but now holds my clothes and stuff that will be kept at the shelter. Bag two is a very large duffel bag that holds clothes that I am giving way along with the cloths of others donated. The third bag is the backpack that I almost never leave anywhere... except when I leave it somewhere. Which happens more often than I like. My father seems to be irritated by my ability to leave and forget stuff all the time. But his irritation doesn't even come close to the irritation i get from it. It holds a number of things I need on a day to day basses, books for research, important papers, medication & vitamins, phone charger, lap top, pens...basically anything I feel I might need at any given time. So basically for those of us who don't have cars...we have backpacks,ha. The portable filling case is of coarse for me to hold all the other important papers I need for this and other projects. As I head in there are people out side smoking as usual. Peter is outside, dressed in a 49ers sweater and sweat pants. He waves with a cigarette in his hand and gives me the "hey buddy." Smoke rolling from his mouth. "Gloves" is dressed in his usual layered out fit, the last "coat" being a knock off leather jacket with his "worlds greatest dad" hat atop his head. He seems pretty inebriated which is not unusual for him this late in the eveing. That half toothless smile on his face. "Gloves" is a character. He tricked me out of three cigarettes one night by asking me for one, and out of the goodness of my heart I gave him three. It was only a short time after all three cigarettes were smoked did I see him pull a full pack from his socks,ha. I just laughed and said "You hood winked me you tricker." He of coarse denied it, saying he forget...in which could of been the case given his state at the moment. I just let it go. I mean It's not like I never did the same thing when I was younger. Either lying or forgetting about having them my self. As I walk in the door, Chuck, a blue collar middle aged man, dark hair coming out the sides of baseball cap, is there to greet me along with a room full of people. They are all finished eating and caring on with some conversation around the big, whit rectangle tables. "Hey guys what's up" I say. "I have a bag full of clothes, both men and women if anyone is interested in looking. I drop the larger of the three bags on to the washer and dryers to the right of me. Carie, the lady with the smokey voice who came in the other day asks me if I have any jogging pants in there. This kind of throws me of guard for a moment. Thinking to myself..."Why would she be jogging? She doesn't seem like the jogging type to me." I let it go and simply say "I'm not for sure, you'll just have to check." I make my way to the back and Tim is back here, red shirt and his usual gym shorts. It looks like he's busy doing something, though I don't know what. His stuff is on my bed and before I get a chance to even say hey, he apologizes and tells me he'll move it. I tell him not to worry about it and ask which of the cubby holes can I place my Bag in? He points to a couple and I place my Everlast bag in the big constructed shelves meant for our personal belongings and leave my backpack on my bed. Chuck meets me half way down the short hall in between the back and the front and asks for my ID. I still haven't received my PADS card. I guess I'm suppose to meet with Glen, the director of PADS to get it. Something I need to put at the top of my priorities list anyway just to touch base. Glen is a younger guy, older than me about 28 if I recall right. he has long hair curly dark hair usually kept in a pony tail and a college look to him still. But don't let this throw you. He is as professional and effective as they come. He has done a tremendous job with turning Pads into a more positive direction. Something I will discuss in detail later on. Just know that he is the man! After Chuck get's me registered he asks the usual question "Are you hungry?" I say "Yes!" Having not eaten since I awoke at 4:30pm and opted out of eating with Trevin to save on money, knowing I would have food awaiting me here at the shelter. Chuck asks me if a turkey slad sandwich, green beans and cookies are alright. I tell him "It will be fine." As I sit down next to John, the man with the ring on his finger but no evidence of a wife...which I find out later is staying with her parents, I introduce my self to the new younger couple is sitting beside him. they seem polite enough but full of spunk. John is dressed in gray sweat pants and black hoodie. We began to talk and some how without me even bringing it up we get on the subject of vegetarians. According to John they are all ass holes. After asking him how he got this conclusion he tells me because Paul McCartney is a vegetarian and he's an ass hole. I think to my self "Are you serious?" .... And after a little more diving i find out...He is,ha! I go on to tell him I am for the most part a vegetarian and he holds to his statement, again referring to his experience that a lot of famous people are vegetarians and they are ass holes. I laugh a little still finding it hard to believe that he really believes this fallacious logic holds true. In the field of "Logic", a class I just took out of personal interest and to sharpen my skills, It would be known as a "False cause fallacy." I go on to try and explain to him that what one eats has nothing to do with their attitudes torward others and that if anything it could be said that famous people can come off as "ass holes" because they are harassed all day long, twenty four seven. But he is unable to see this logical connection. Chuck brings out my food, A big bowl of green beans, some cookies and a turkey sandwich. I am excited for the green beans and eat them up quick with the bread and leave the turkey and all but one of the cookies. The conversation has now some how turned to politics, the new girl, a young girl about early mid twenties and several piercings in her face is in a heated debate with our friend John. It is clear by now that John is conservative and the young girl is a liberal. As someone who is found of debating I struggle to stay out of this one, knowing that no real good could come out of it... but lack the will power to do so. I am neither a democrat or republican and try stay as much in the middle as I can by being open minded to both sides based off logical reasoning and facts. Though I will say that I hold more liberal views in several key areas. With the debate at hand I am necessarily pulled into the conversation for one side or the other. It was more of the fact that both sides carried with them very inconsistent logical arguments based on speculation, opinions and "facts" from unreliable sources that lead me to put in my two sense. Being someone who is has the gift of being very analytical (Clifton Strength finder program) and driven by logical reasoning, facts and probabilities I was simply trying to clean up some of the fallacious reasoning used by both sides. "Obama is the sole reason for our economic collapse" John spat off, The new girl firing back with " Whatever Obama the best president we've ever had. He helps the poor." "Yea by stealing it from the government." "un-hun, he pays it from his pocket. He's a good christian man" "Oh no!" says John "Obama is a devout Muslim...it says forever Allah on his his wedding ring." Anyone with a strength of being "Analytical" Finds this type reasoning and facts to be highly questionable if not irritating,ha. For the most part I know when I'm entering into an area i know little to nothing about and I at least know enough not to argue it. If anything I question it or them with logic and what little understanding I have of the subject at hand. Which is what I tried doing with the both of them. But for the most part they wanted to ignore me and argue amongst themselves...Which to be honest did irritate me a bit, I must admit. The more in ensued, the more it continued to escalate because even more people jumped in. Some on the right some on the left. It eventually got to the point where Chuck, the volunteer had to make attempts to cut off any discussions on politics. But it was little to no avail. It was not until Gigi, got involved and started arguing and ranting about how the maps are all different in the area, how nothing is real that the maps keep on changing... or something like that. It was such a weird ramble that we all had to stop and scratch our heads to figure out just what she was talking about. But it was just what we needed and more than likely a reflection of what we sounded like, just rambling on about stuff in a manner that was not conducive or therapeutic to our situation. The silence it brought was enough to let everyone cool off for a moment to realize this was not going anywhere, and fast.----- I once strayed away from almost any type of debating or being critical of others ideas and even my own. Preferring to keep the harmony and let others, and often times my self "save face and to hold on to things that when look at deeper would fall apart under speculation. It wasn't until I really started to learn, accept and apply my strengths did I my eyes open to the necessity of one's ability to question things. Especially when it is in a manner that is conducive to growth and not just the intellectual defeat of our opponent. Much of my research in "WAGE PEACE" is dedicated to education reform. What we are learning, how we learn, the environments in which we learn and on. I am now somewhat convinced that classes on logic and epistemology should be part of the core curriculum of grade schools. I cam to this conclusion based off several factors that are connected together, but the one that sealed the deal was when I took my first "official" class on the subject of "Logic" at lake land. I was fascinated by it and grew tremendously because of it. Logic gives one the ability to step away from bias and opinion. It allows one to come to sound conclusions about the decisions they make or the ideas they hold to be true. It helps them way the facts or probabilities to come to the best conclusion. Logic is the "scientific method" of arguments and ideas. It is why the field of science has grown more rapidly and done more good for the overall good of humanity then things like dogmatic religion, not to be confused spirituality. The scientific method's sole purpose is to keep an open minded and seek out the truth whither it can be pinned down to a fact or a level of probability. It's not on the other hand looking to accept anything based just on a feeling or faith. Not that faith isn't just as important, because it is definitely is and has been detrimental to new discoveries science. The thing is when faith isn't counteracted with logical reasoning it gives way to closed minded, dogmatic views. There is no room for doubt and it is often discouraged. And to seek the truth of anything often times requires a level of doubt. It requires one to look to try and prove their own theory or idea wrong and be willing to accept it when its inevitably is apparent. Denis Palumbo, a psychotherapist puts it this way “Faith and doubt, both are needed, not as antagonists but working side by side, to take us around the unknown curve.The mistake, I think, is to strive to banish Doubt, to see it as the enemy. Because, just as courage has no meaning without fear, faith has no meaning without doubt. They’re the yin and yang of all aspiration and truth The paradox of struggling with doubt — as with all so-called “negative” feelings — is that only by inviting it in, exploring and illuminating its meanings, can we be enriched as creatively. This is especially true for the. The plain fact is, the more willing you are to mine the landscape of your own doubts, the truer and more recognizably the truth may come to life" Imagine what this cold do for us as a society! It would lessen closed minded bickering, and subjective biased opinions or at the least let people be able to hold conversations on hot topics without getting so negatively emotional. It is well known that when strong emotions get involved the thinking process and creative process can be hindered greatly, along with the ability to hear and accept information that very well could be true. This happens because any since of threat will cause the brain to go into a low drive and act out of it fight or flight mechanics there by lessening the chance of coming to an agreement, even if its to disagree.-----After we all had a moment to chill, I approach John in the back as he is looking through the box of movies on the desk under the mounted tv. "Hey buddy, no hard feelings right?" "Oh yea of coarse not." he says. "I wasn't mad, I don't understand why she was getting so upset. But that's liberals for you they all have a temper and can't control it." Hearing this last part again struck a nerve in me but I wanted to make sure my rebuttal to his condescending statement was not condescending my self. I wanted to say "Are you stupid are something?" But I opted out for "John, I don't think it's fair to say that all liberals are hot tempered and un-controlling. Again I have to point out that regardless of what one's views are, anyone can be hot tempered or low tempered." "He simply said that was not his experience because his father is a liberal and is hot headed." I could have went on and tried explaining that one case is not justifiable to make an over all claim, in logic it is called a hasty generalization fallacy, but I have grown to understand that some people have been wired to hold on to their views more than seeking truth or understanding and that, though it is not impossible to reason with them, it can be very very difficult. In the end we shake hands and agree to disagree on some of the subjects and I head up front and when I hear the chime of my phone the indicates I have a message. It's from a good friend a work who is feeling sick and wants me to work for her tonight. My first response back as "No, Sorry." feeling a bit overwhelmed after just working a double and two shifts over the weekend. But after further contemplation I decided I could use the money and that I wanted to help her out. I later regretted this decision after confirming I would be in tonight. I realized shortly after that I was under a lot more stress than I previously thought. My emotions run rampant with the thoughts of trying to do too much. I make this statement to Tim, when it occurs to me that he's frustrated with not being able to get work and just how silly of me it is to go on complaining. But apart of me still thinks to my self "I never knew it would be so hard to go homeless." This statement as I ponder on it now carries with it a double meaning. On one hand, for one to have to be put into this situation with little to no choice...the experience is going to be hard. And Now that I'm am starting to get a little bit more into the swing of things I can see how and why. On the other hand, there seem to be too many factors involved for me to commit fully! To many responsibilities to take care of within and out side of this project. I am in a sense too often, too busy to be homeless. I feel as though I am running but not getting anywhere. Working but with no pay off. To offer up an Idea I submit the following of what this project fully intells. To start with there is the responsibilities of moving. This project as I've stated was to be in full swing by December 1st and it is now the 18th and I have yet been able to pull this off. For a couple reasons. First off my roommate needed an extra month and a half to get his situation in order, which is understandable given his circumstances. But this has forced me to pay an extra months of utilities and rent. Second I'm and have been with out a license for almost 8 years now and securing a truck or U-hal with movers to help has proven more difficult than originally thought. This is because of the money it takes and the time of both my schedule and others. I have so far had to push my move date back twice. Add to this that my stuff will be separated between 3 different places...the shelter, a storage shed and my new office/flop house and it posses more of a problem. Second there is my responsibilities to make a living by working an actual job wile at the same time trying to start and get up and running my 4th business venture...WAGE PEACE. Third, my responsiblities to make time for my family and girl friend or even just have free time to relax. Last but not least there are the objectives themselves with in the mission: going homeless and what each objective carries with it. They are as follow -Build relationships with members of pads by spending quality time getting to know them and their situation. -Research and build case studies for community out reach program and day program. -Film and write a documentary on the human experience and process -Give public speeches on findings & experience. -Gain experience and exposure to ensure future opportunities in social entrepreneurship and non profit -Save up money to pay off debts and to invest in future non profits. When I first embarked on this journey I was self assured that I would be doing this with the help of several others on board that would help share in some of the responsibilities that would make this effort worth wile and effective. But it has appeared so far that my optimism has failed me in this. And I do not place blame with anyone in which I thought would be on board because those of who I thought would be a part of this have many things going on in their lives which is what I assume has kept them from helping in this project. But alas I feel my self alone with the weight of this project on my shoulders and in my head. I am, for the most part, lost on how to go about it now and what to do next except to continue writing... when I can. The responsibilities of each objective alone covers a vast area. areas in which I find my self trying to cover, but with little to no avail at times. There is a vast amount of action in the form of reading, research, writing, thinking, meetings and speaking that goes into each one of these. Trying to do this all has left me with little time to even try and spend with the people at the shelter. But maybe my dream is too big, maybe I should have never even tried to pull something like this off. I can't help but be pissed at the situation I find myself in. Completely trapped between a project to big to pull off myself, a passion to succeed that drives me and wont' subside, the need to make a difference and in not doing so would mean another failed venture....I don't know if I can take another failed venture. It would could be the end of me...and I don't mean my life. I just mean my spirit. I often times wish I could believe in a God. At least I could have someone to cuss out or pray too. But I don't...not enough anyway. I can only rely on the stories of those who have achieved success before me and know that success is a road paved with more failure than success. But it's not only this I have to fight with i have to fight back my pessimism. success can often make people harsh and cold...because of what you have to go through to get there. It's tearing me up inside. I'm being torn in every direction in which feel I must run with to succeed at this. And I don't even know what this success should look like. Even if I do make it I don't know if I can come out whole. All I know is that it seems I'm often too busy to be homeless. But maybe that's it. Maybe that's part of the solution, keeping busy, that is. Or at least in regard to bettering one's self or situation. I'm always looking to improve. I guess I just need to be happy that I have this problem instead of the one in which I'd have too much time and not anything to do with it.

Mission Going Homeless: The night I met Jesus

I awoke, still in that peaceful phase were your mind hasn’t had time to catch up to the awareness of one awaking. Still asleep enough to fall back asleep easily, or so I thought, I started to fill the drip, maybe it’s a pour I don’t know. Time is funny when you’re in weird states of consciousness. But as soon as I started to feel it I knew this probably wasn’t going to end up well. My mind drifts. Snoring..loud snoring at that. I know its loud because I can still hear it pretty clear through my purple ear buds. “That’s probably what awoke me” I thought. Drip..drip..drip. “I can do this I can go back to sleep…I need to remember to video tape the toastmaster meetings tomorrow”..drip..drip..drip. “Damn it Tim, you son of bitch why do have to snore so loud”…drip…drip…drip. “I need to get more organized in order to be more productive”..drip..drip..drip. I look at my phone; half hoping it was close to 6 this way I could get up and get a head start on the day….1:20am. “God damn it mother fucker!” What the fuck is wrong with me.” DRIP.DRIP.DRIP. Knowing the answer to the question already. That is, that I suffer from disorder known as a manic-depressive bi-polar. It’s a disorder in which basically people swing from one end of the spectrum of high and on the go to depressed and apathetic. Right now I’m in the manic phase which means little sleep for me. My brain is oozing out a chemical electric soup of adrenalin, norepinephrine, and dopamine that pulse through my brain and body buzing, buzing buzing. These All combined fill my mind and body with a manic type of anxiety that , itself, swings from grandiose feelings of euphoria, in which I can take on the world and do anything to feelings of irritability In which everything is amplified 10 fold and become almost unbearable. The later of the two which I’m feeling now. This is the 3rd night in a row in which I ‘ve awaken after a couple hours and not been able to get back to sleep, sending my mind in overdrive. These last couple days have left me feeling like that of a race car in it’s last laps running without oil, smoke pouring from the ears, eyes blood shot red from the heat of an engine. I’m exhausted beyond measure, tired and desperate for sleep but lack the mental ability to go under. I need help…in more ways than one. But now I have to resort to the only things I can think of…drugs and meditation. “please work” I think to myself as I throw the covers off me and reach down to unzip my bag next to my bed for the night, looking for my Nutralight pill container that has my melatonin ( natural sleep aid) and Buspar (anxiety medication) . I open It up and grab two melatonin and one buspar and walk to the water fountain that’s in-between the front and the back. “Everything is super quite” I think to my self, before realizing, I still have my ear buds in. “Geesh haha” I make it a point not to look at Jeff, the night man who you can clearly see through the hall, my introversion being spurred on by my irritability. I lean down and fill my mouth with the cool, water from the faucet then lean back and pop the pills from my hand. As I make my way back, I notice again how full it is tonight. I see “Who” is back. “Who” being his nick name, though I don’t remember why. Who was a regular when I was a volunteer back in the day. Last I heard he was in near Effingham and found himself a decent girl. “Who is about my age, I never asked, but young relatively speaking. A plus size boy with mismatch tattoos all up an down him, harry potter style circular glasses and a mow hawk he wears proudly. I’ve always for the most part liked Who. Even though he’s never seemed to show much effort to bettering his situation. A regular if you will. But, I know , if anything people like who, are either a relatively happy with the way their life is or don’t know where to even begin if they even knew how much their life could be better. I make it back to my bed which tonight is in the far back against the wall in-between (Tracie) and Tim. I crawl back into it and notice that by now Tim has stopped snoring, at least loud enough for me to hear it through the ear buds. “Okay, time to get serious. I’m going to meditate until the medication kicks in and I drift to sleep.” I think to myself…really thinking this was going to work…and why not. It has in the past. 20 minutes later with only about 4 minutes of clear headedness, I give up and get up, at least for now. Thinking “Maybe I’ll be able to fall asleep in within the next hour or so.” I take the ear buds out of my ears, place them in the bag and grab two of my books. “When Helping Hurts” and Chicken soup for the writers soul. I look up and see that (Tracie) is completely covered from head to toe with blankets. I only know it’s him because, of the unwritten rule in which you don’t take someone else’s bed unless all other beds are full. It’s first come first serve then. I had to tell someone this the other night. Though the way I went about it may not have been the best way. Basically I came in for the night and went put my bag on one of the beds next to the left side wall, the one right under the racks and after the shelves were we put our stuff. After that I head back up front to sit down and get ready for supper. I’m a farily quick eater so I finish my supper fast, throw my plate away and head to the back to get my bed. That’s when I see that someone has taken my stuff and thrown it on the floor and replaced it with there stuff on the bed, this of course at first pissess me off. I grab my bag and place it on a bed next to the back wall. The one I’m in now actually. The whole time thinking in my head, what is the right thing to do? Should I confront whoever did this or should I just let it go. On one hand It wasn’t a big deal, a bed is a bed but on the other. I didn’t want someone to get away with just thinking they could bully someone else around and just take whatever bed they wanted…I was in quite the dilemma. I decided it would be best if I confronted the person, I mean I’ve come a long way from dealing with my passive aggressive nature and need to keep it up. The thing was I don’t know whose bag it is, I’m just going to have t ask everybody. So I do. I walk up front while everyone is still eating and make a formal announcement. “Hey. Who’s green bag is that on the left side wall next to the cubby holes?” Half the people stop and look at me for a second. I hear from someone in the bottom left of the room. “I think its Gary’s”, they say. This gets Gary’s attention and he looks up at me. Gary’s about 5”8 210, middle aged with wiry hair that hangs to his shoulders. “Before he gets a chance to really say anything I spout off with a little hesitance in my voice “Did you remove my bag from the bed?” “He looks at, everyone is looking at me now, “Yea what about it.” he says “It was on my bed.” I reply back “Well that’s the thing. It’s first come first serve here, you can’t save a bed and my stuff was on the bed first.” There are some mumbled yes from the others indicating that what I was saying was technical true. “So you want the bed then huh?” he says offended and angrily. “No,” I say back “It’s not a bid deal I will take another bed I’m just saying you can’t go removing people’s stuff off their bed.” By now everyone was totally engrossed between our back and forth and wasn’t for sure what to make of it. Though I tried to come off as professional and responsible as I could, it came off as some young, kid scolding an elder. I wasn’t even sure what to make of what I was doing or what purpose it served. I was later called out in front of everyone for handling the matter in the way I did. Which did not work out the way the volunteered hoped it would cause he himself just made himself look foolish as well. I soon after formally apologies to Gary and made and amends to him and not only got to know him a little better but learned that he wasn’t even aware of the official or un official rules or that the bag was placed there intentionally. He thought the person in the bed next to him accidentally put it on his bed. So as I said, I coincided and let him have that particular bed, while I took the one in between Tim and Tracie.

AS I walk up front I hear Tim talking with someone up front, my mind assumes it’s Dale, a gentleman who can’t stay the night but often comes up and hangs out with Jim, Though when I get up front I notice it’s not, it’s one of the men who stayed last night. I’ve seen him before but never had the chance to talk with him. He like many of the men here a have a blue color look to himself, tall—about 6”2 really short light hair starting to bald from the front to back. He has, a red sweat shirt on with light faded levis, white socks pulled up and over them and black shoes to boot. Jeff, gives me a nod, “Can’t sleep again kory?” “Nope, sure can’t Jeff. This stuff is really starting to piss me off.” I sit down next to the gentle Jim was talking too and he doesn’t acknowledge me, just goes about his business rolling cigarettes. Jim and I talk for several minutes. He tell me Bobby Watters “the 5am caller” called him the other night asking for a ride to Charleston , and that he had to refuse. We talked about how we both struggle with shifting back to regular schedules from working thirds. Jeff’s trick is B double E and R “Beer”. Whatever works for you I think, I’ve resorted to the same in the past before as well. Though I try not to make habit of using alcohol or prescription drugs to force myself to sleep, sometimes it’s the only thing that works. Jeff gets up to head to the back, his one hour ritual in doing checkups. I take this time as a good opportunity in getting to know the man sitting at the table in front of me. “Can’t sleep either huh?” “Nope, sure can’t” he says. Yea, I hate when I can’t sleep…which seems like a lot lately” I say back. “ You from around these parts?” “Nope, just passing through, heading north east to go live in the woods” “ The North East woods, huh? Why, are you tired of it all, just want to get away or something?” I ask. “Go kill the devil” ……… “I’m sorry what’s that” I reply back a little taken off guard. “All these evil spirits have been following me my whole life. I can’t shake’em and the only way for me to shake’em is to get out in the middle of the woods where there is no electricity. You see this electricity hides these evil spirits. It’s a special froth they make out of the bones of the dead and they rub it on there bodys. “ At this point as you could probably tell, this guy was not all really there. One’s first instinct in a situation like this might be to end the conversation and go back and lay down, though sleep REALLY might be impossible. Though I couldn’t, for one he didn’t seem like he was much of a threat and second I was greatly intrigued as to what he just might say next. Our friend here seems to be suffering from a literal textbook case of paranoid, schizophrenia.

Good Intentions?

As Trevin I are making our way back to the shelter, I feel the deep pit in my stomach ever-widening-- A pit that no food could suffice or fill. It is a hole left, or should I say taken by the comments of those I sought to befriend. This hole is a longing for acceptance…in which I not only feel slipping away but slipping into hostility. It’s a hostility directed at myself and for what I thought were good intentions. This in turn, turns my stomach, my stomach turning into a vile of self-pity, the fumes of my anger wafting off of it. “I wouldn’t worry about it Kory” Trevin says with his usually little nervous laugh following right after. “I mean even if something does go down you know you can always just come back to our place.” He finishes with. I tell him I’m okay…a statement that is both the truth and a lie at the same time. I’ve never liked being asked if I was okay. I never know how to answer it and it only frustrates me even more. On one sure I’m better than okay, I am in many ways the embodiment of privilege a white American, heterosexual male. But on the other end I’m usually going through some disturbing issues, whither real or in my head, when asked this question. How would you answer? I never know. On top of that I don’t usually like to talk most people when I’m upset even though it’s a lot of times what I really want to do. I just feel that people don’t typically care to hear about our bullshit. I mean I know there are many times I don’t care to hear someone else’s…I just force myself to be present with them and not only listen but hear what they have to say…because they’re depending on me to do it. A loving society depends on us taking many momentarily un selfish actions like those. The problem is sometimes that these unselfish actions can be rare, and when they are rare people question their motives….My motives are in question by those, and only those whose opinions of me I can’t have questioning me.

The light flicks On, It was one of the only nights I’ve felt I’ve been able to really get to sleep and stay a sleep at the shelter. I’m tired though, more tired than usual for some odd reason. I don’t know but I don’t try to think too much about it otherwise I won’t be able to fall back asleep. I’m not supposed to anyway. When the lights come, you get up! Joe is becoming stricter about this and several other rules lately. Which is good….except when all you want is another 20-30 minutes of sleep. I reluctantly get up after I momentarily fall back asleep until that is I hear the second call again. Have you ever had one of those dreams where you thought you got up? The thought of coffee enters my mind, “Mmmm coffee” I think. Nothing like an addiction to get you out of bed. It used to be a cigarette and some coffee, If I was lucky, but know it’s just coffee. I gaze around the room, eyes still half shut, hair a mess, standing in my all white shirt and blue checkered pejay pants. I notice I’m one of the last ones to get up out of bed today. I was about to head and get a cup of coffee before I started to get my bed ready when Joe comes strolling easily back near my bed, sheets and pillow cases in his arms already. “I need your sheet’s mr. Stone he says in a cheerful voice. Dave making his way past Joe says something smart I don’t catch….There is always something smart being thrown around. I reluctantly hold off on getting my coffee first thing, which does irritate me but I try and not let it show, so that I can get all the sheets and pillow cases off my bed. Because the beds are made of plastic and easily wake me up I always fold extra thick blankets in half and put them on top before I put the fitted sheet on. Jim sees this but says nothing, which I figured he wouldn’t because one I never heard any rules against it and two even if it were Joe has a good knack for understanding if a rule is a bit too much or when it’s called for. After getting in my coffee I hop in the shower and and try to make it out within 10 minutes, as I said I would and I do. I grab another cup of coffee on my way out the door I go, telling everybody good bye behind me. My mind is full of useless thoughts as usual, things I go over and rehash a million times. It’s funny because we can often have the thought that thinking will generate our bright ideas though it is not often the case. Our bright ideas often come from, with in without much of our conscious help. Though conscious can be great at taking said ideas and improving on them but most of the time our thoughts are sporadic and have a negative connotation to them because of our evolutionary process of looking for threats more than possibilities. This is a double threat because one end all this negative thinking causes stress crushes creativity and motivation as well as prevents clear ideas from coming through due to all the mental activity. Einstein said "The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift.”

Many of the most notable visionaries of our time credit their creative success to the use of a trance or meditative state. Among them are; Amadeus Mozart, Thomas Edison, Albert Einstein, Alexander Graham Bell, Henry Ford, Andrew Carnegie, Leonardo Da Vinci and George Washington Carver. Each and every one of these men put themselves into a trance state to access their sub-conscious and intuitive minds. It was from this state that their most creative ideas, their most profound inventions arose

Meditation In The Workplace by Brenda Stanger

http://wolfwindgroup.com/de-mystify-meditation-by-brenda-stanger/

Edison use to sit in a rocking chair in his office holding a rock in each hand, and under his hand was a pail of metal. He would then proceed to relax his mind and body enough to the point where he would start to dose off and when he did the rocks would clang in the metal pales, awakening him often times with a bright idea.

He exercised certain brainwave patterns that provided him with original ideas. Today's technology has improved the process to where all you have to do is just relax in your easy chair to get the creative ideas. We now know that the state between waking and sleep is the time when theta brainwaves are prevalent. In this state we are put in touch with that inner problem-solver that resides in all of us, the subconscious mind. This part of us is somehow able to access dimensions of reality that our conscious mind cannot. Some psychologists say, in the theta state, the mind is able to access a universal filing system that records every thought, word and action in the collective human memory hard drive, a universal data base in the quantum field. Whatever we call it, certain people have described accessing it when they were in a theta brainwave state and it has yielded the kind of breakthrough ideas that have led to culture changing and life changing insights, inspirations and inventions.

Creative Visualization By Ross Craft

http://www.selfgrowth.com/articles/creative_visualization

Yoshiro Nakamatsu or Dr. NakaMats as he likes to be reffered to is someone of real interest who is an avid meditator. Who is the Dr. NakaMats you might ask? Well he, some say one of the world’s greatest inventors of all time with an impressive list of over 3,357 and going, patents to his name the floppy disc being one of them. Dr. Nakamats form of meditation involves his pool and some weights. And what he does, he calls

"swim til almost die!" He swims underwater and holds his breath until he just can't do it any longer. Of course, this is coupled with a systemized routine he has created to enhance creativity and allows his brain to bubble ideas

Creative Visualization By Ross Craft

http://www.selfgrowth.com/articles/creative_visualization

The point is that my own thoughts are getting in the way of what is most important and what I need to be doing. After switching back and forth between going up to the coffee shop or my office to work on stuff I decide my office is probably more quitter, though no much less distraction when your office is room rented out by some of your closest friends, Trevin and Sarah. Though some perks are that both are genius in their own write, Trevin is great to bounce ideas off of and has an ability to read people like no other person I’ve ever met. It’s part of his strengths. I’ve learned more about myself through him than just about any other person. Sarah is also great to learn with, we in some ways share similar views and in others are slightly different which is great because we both grow from that experience. She is also a writer, fiction that is. We feed off each other, or at least I feed off her. We are both “achievers” and “inputs” in our strengths so It’s great for me to be able to imulate a more experienced writer with similar strengths. It motivates me as well as educates me. Seeing her stick to her writing regime as well as get caught up in facebook, videos of cute kittens (her thing not mine,ha.) helps me to make sure I’m getting my seat time in and that thought my dilly dalling around on the internet is not excuasable it’s something many writers struggle with. It’s also a unique opportunity to learn from a fiction writer. Though my style of reading and writing are 99.9% non fiction having a fictional writer in the house definitely has its benefits in learning story telling techniques and editing techniques and so on.

I make it to the house, a light blue house with a concrete porch, tucked away between two big white houses on each side and a red truck that always seems to be out front of the neighbors house. Trevin and Sarah have not made it home yet, they work 3rds at a local factory to the bills why there trying to make money of their dreams part time, much like I am. Sarah said she could not give me a key to the front of the house because her dad is not aware that I have an office there and am paying a 100 a month for that office. So for a while I was waiting outside in the cold until they decided it was okay for me to have a key to the side of the house, why it maters I don’t know but I’m just happy I don’t have to wait for them anymore. I make my way through the side of the house and head to my office. It’s used to store my small library of books and a place to sleep in the mornings during the weekend when I work and can’t go the shelter cause it’s closed. I check and prepare my dry erase board, that doesn’t erase well, for the following day. As usual more stuff to get done than I possibly can. But today is somewhat of a little more important than usual. Today I’m meeting with Dr. Michael Gillespie, a sociology teacher from Eastern IL university who done his dissertation on poverty. I still don’t really know what I’m going to say or ask him, or if I’ll really be able to use anything in particular, even though he’s incredibly smart. I’m just sort of winging it and expecting to get a lot out of it, if that makes sense. I’ve asked Trevin to come along with me to help engage in the conversation if it ever became stagnant, and to over some insight on a variable of things that could come up. (Virgin Mobile, bum chick ding, bum chick ding, bum chick ding.) My phone rings and it’s Judy, Judy a red haired, fair skinned girl with a shy demeanor is a good friend of mine. She crawled her way from the bottom of the barrel in poverty, in every sense of the word, mental, physical, social and financial. Judy used to be a crack addict and would sell herself to get some if that’s what it took. Today she’s on a new track though, she’s been a big part of my walk. We walk together in both improving our selves and each other. Today we are to go meet up at the shelter for lunch and then head over to the library to print off a thank you note for her new job. Judy, has been on disability income for about 13 years now, But as of just the other day she has officially acquired her G.E.D. and Her C.N.A. and was recently hired at a local Nursing home. She is 26 years old and reaching for the stars. I couldn’t express in this little book how proud I am of her or how far she’s come to achieve those goals. It’s never too late to turn your life around….It takes me about 20 minutes to get across town to meet Judy there. She’s leaning up against the wall at the shelter. She is dressed nice with heels to boot, but doesn’t look out of place still. She’s no stranger to the shelter, having stayed the night and eaten there herself in the past. Her father is a frequent visitor for supper often times as well. As I approach her I start dancing silly just to get a rouse out of her. People who are usually innocent or shy bring out a silly nature in me, I don’t know why but they do. I think it’s because I like pulling them out of their inner comfort zone. We Get inside and see my good friend Paul. Paul is the new director at P.A.D.S. He welcomes us in with the big easy smile he’s known for carrying around. He lays down a plate in front of one of the other residents and beckons’ us to have a seat. Lunch goes by quick, we all chat and b.s. around. Lunch is from 11-12 and if you don’t make it by then well you’re kind of shit out luck. We tell everyone good bye and head to the library and get her thank you card made before we split, directions. But before I do I bestow upon her, her letter of recognition in being a member of the prestigious Ken Degler Toastmasters club. She jokes that she has more plaques than a Dr. and I agree with her. She’s an achiever to like me, according to her strengths assessment. These plaques are symbols of her achievements in life. It’s funny too see someone else who had such an amazing work ethic and achiever in them and you would never have known it because of their prior circumstances prevented it from showing up. I’m very luck to have her as a friend in my life, though when we first met it was through my father and I didn’t really have or want anything to do with her or be seen with her in public. I was new to the area, fresh from my own drug and alcohol problems and looking for “cool” people to be friends with and as far as I could tell she was not one of the “cool” kids, so to speak. Little did know what I now, that the whole thought process was uncool, That I myself had no stance in pronouncing myself cooler. Even if other people, the world would deem cool, said so. The world is often very uncool in the way it handles things. The worlds version of cools is often cruel, uppity, shallow, envious, competitive and out for them selves. That is not cool in any sort of way. I arrive at the house just a couple hours before we have to take off to go see Michael but not before stopping by the local salvation army close by. If haven’t mentioned, I’m a book junkie. It’s not like I need the books, more the half the books in my ever growing library I haven’t read and really want too. It’s just my “Input” nature, It’s nice to have the information handy if I need to learn something. But also and a little more importantly I love giving books to people, it’s kind of like a non-religious ministry for me and the S.A. has some really great deals, I end up spending about an hour in there looking through their books, and chatting with this really nice older lady who wishes they would turn the books flat so she doesn’t have to crank her head to see the titles, It affects her balance. I end up walking out with 5 books, The illusion, how to make people like you, the richest man in babaloyn and henry david thero the greatest play ever. All for about 1.35,

"Becoming the Change"

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Poverty & Philosophy

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