My Aunt Daisy

 Last night, my phone rang after 10 pm and although that is not unusual, the picture and name on the screen of my so-called-smart phone caused my heart to race.  When I glanced over at the phone with the intention to let the call go to voice mail, I saw my father's name and number. I grabbed the phone and tried to hide my concern as I said hello. My parents (and I) tend to avoid phone calls after 10 pm...because we usually fall asleep in front of the television around 9 or 9:30!

He shared his usual greeting, "Hey! What are you doing?" followed by "Where's Maya?" (As if he didn't know the answers!) He asked what was new and after I said, "nothing at all" he said, "Well, I have some news." I held my breath and waited for him to share his news. He solemnly said, "Aunt Daisy died today."  This came as a total shock because I knew that other relatives were older and sicker but I did not know that she had been in the hospital for two weeks. So, my cousins are making arrangements for a Saturday funeral down in Georgia, where dad and his siblings grew up...and got in more trouble than the law allowed!

 I was looking through my photo albums but could not find a picture of my Aunt Daisy. She was a card! She reminded me of Eartha Kitt with her wonderful laugh, wide smile, and her unique voice. She lived in New York and the trips to her house were always fun even though I was the baby cousin and was not allowed to go into the basement with my older cousins.  She let me cook the rice once...long before I knew how to cook anything...and proudly told everyone "Carla made the rice" which was code for, "It's sticky because she stirred it instead of letting it cook undisturbed!" This would not be a crime in most households, but these folks were from Georgia and messing up the rice is a cardinal sin! (I have since repented and made amends...and made better rice, too!)

I remember my crazy cousins who used to hang out in the basement, probably listening to Parliament Funkadelic records and doing what older teenagers do in the basement without supervision...draw your own conclusions. I'm not telling all of the family business, but that's only because I have no firsthand knowledge because they never did let me hang out with them. I guess they thought the girl from Jersey didn't know what was going on. Hmph! Even if they didn't let me hang with them, I knew they loved me. We still sat at the table and cracked jokes and my cousin Lena would take me to the store. (This was a big deal for me. Remember, I lived in the suburbs, so walking in the streets of NY for a bag of chips and a soda was HUGE!)

I also remember hot summers in Dover, Georgia where my Aunt Daisy had a beautiful brick house built across the street from the one my grandparents lived in. There are pecan trees in the yard and a shed with a bunch of broken down trucks and cars waiting for the Grim Reaper to tow them away. Next to her house is the "shop" where my grandfather sold pickled pig's feet, candy, sodas and God knows what else. There were pool tables and a jukebox and I remember putting money in so my mom could hear the Manhattans singing "Honey you, are my shining star, don't you go away..."  I liked Aunt Daisy's house because she had air conditioning and a television with cable so we could watch more than three channels.  I could dash from the shop to her house to the yard and then back to the house only to be scolded for "opening and closing that door"! Ah, the good old days. Now, I am among those who warn the little ones about trafficking in and out of the house. My last memory of that house is walking past it holding my father's hand after his mother died. Of course, there was drama about who would ride in the limousine (all the way across the street to the church that was less than a mile away!) and there were all of the other emotional markers of grief like fussing, fighting, and crying. It was a quiet moment of tenderness that I will always cherish. It was a moment of calm in the storm of grief all around us.  That beautiful brick house will always be a symbol of the complexity and beauty of what it means to me to be a Jones.

This weekend, the family will once again gather in that house and tell stories and share memories and shed tears. Aunt Daisy's life will be celebrated and her loss will be grieved. Our lives were made richer for having her with us. I pray that God will comfort my family with happy memories, kind words, and loving embraces.

Shalom

Crying Out in the Wilderness

     With the regularity and disruption of an unwelcomed guest, depression is making her rounds once again this winter. I wanted to write about the beauty of the Advent season and the promise of hope, but there is also the problem of running for our lives through the darkness. There is an intentional hustle and bustle that many enjoy during the season of lights, yet there are many of us who are still wandering, fighting and crying in the darkness. I am asking you, dear reader, to remember those who cannot see or enjoy the season of lights this year.

     When most people get a winter cold, they don’t despair because they know that it will run its course and eventually the inconvenience of sniffing and sneezing will end.  Depression also comes back with the regularity of summer allergies or a winter cold. The trouble is that allergies and colds are more common and family and friends are better able to sympathize with you if you sneeze. Uncontrolled fits of crying and mood swings and other bizarre behaviors are harder to handle – no matter how much you may love someone.

     I compare it to hugging a wounded porcupine. The animal has a built in defense system that can damage you as you attempt to give comfort or aid. So it is with the depressed. We will lie and tell you that we are fine. Those of us who are fortunate enough to be single, hide our unwitnessed tearful days and sleepless nights with ease. Those of us who are married or otherwise partnered will find creative ways to disguise our symptoms. We want and need you to hold us close but at the same time we will push you away because of the depth of our pain. We cannot bear to accept and receive what we need most desperately.

     This year, I was caught off guard and although all of the clues were there, I was unable to interpret the clues until the depression had reached a critical point.  I had been irritable, but what frustrated job seeker isn’t? I began to prefer seclusion…which went unnoticed because I have always preferred my solitude. I became painfully aware of an unmet need to be loved and an almost inappropriate joy for any display of affection. At the same time, I experienced a devastatingly inappropriate perception of any and all rejection – exacerbated by my fruitless job search. My epicurean tendencies are no secret but instead of an appreciation for good food and drink, these became my form of self medication and I was fully compliant with my own prescription for repeated doses of comfort food and anesthetizing beverages. The trouble with these behaviors is that they were simply an exaggerated form of what I did on a daily basis and so they went undetected and untreated until they also became ineffective.

     In his memoir, Darkness Visible, William Styron refers to the fellowship that occurs among those who know the ravages of the disease. Fortunately, I have women in my life who know me and know how to read the signs. I am grateful for the daily calls and text messages from my two “sisters” but it was the persistence of one very new and wonderful sister-friend that provided a beacon of light into my personal abyss. She reminded me that she was acquainted with my demon and was praying with and for me. The desperation in her voice reminded me that I was in over my head and needed to confess, concede and conquer – but I did not have to fight the battle all by myself. That was the lifeline that I needed but do not be misled into thinking that the lifeline hoisted me out of the abyss and onto safe ground. All I could do was hold on to the knot at the bottom of the lifeline because I was battle scarred and weary from fighting alone for so long. (This is probably why Jesus sent the disciples out in pairs. There are some things that we cannot do by ourselves. We all need community, no matter how small, rag-tag, unarmed or ill-equipped). Some would say that all you need to do is pray and let God be your community but my pastor used to say that sometimes we need to BE God with skin on. That is what this sister had become for me – God with skin on. I was “ready to see God” on my own terms and instead, God showed up with skin on in the form of this sister.

     It is in this moment that I am reacquainted with the hope of this Advent season. The story of Advent includes the voice of one crying in the wilderness. The story includes dark realities set against a promise of brighter days, and renewed hope in the promises of God. The story includes the star that guides the way to the manger where “unto us a child is born” and as the child is delivered, so are we. The story is one most poignantly understood this year as I realize that my sister-friend was the star leading me through the darkness as I stumbled around desperately seeking the company of that child who is indeed Emmanuel – God with us.

I will close this blog post with an acceptance of two duties.  First, I implore those of you who are able to enjoy the season of lights to be mindful that yours is not a universal reality. If you know or love someone who suffers from depression or has ever shown any symptoms of the illness, please remember that we may be difficult to handle at times but we just need a little extra care and concern for the moment. The wounded porcupine is dangerous but still needs a healing hand. You need not become the therapist or the therapy for that matter but you can be a beacon of light and a source of hope. You have probably heard the reports that suicide rates soar during the holidays and I have no data to support or negate that theory but I can offer this – a little love goes a long way in preventing it. Styron writes,

Most people in the grip of depression at its ghastliest are, for whatever reason, in a state of unrealistic hopelessness, torn by exaggerated ills and fatal threats that bear no resemblance to actuality. It may require on the part of friends, lovers, family, admirers, an almost religious devotion to persuade the sufferers of life’s worth, which is so often in conflict with a sense of their own worthlessness, but such devotion has prevented countless suicides. (Darkness Visible)

Devotion does not translate into becoming a 24/7 prison guard, but it may simply mean that you make yourself available to your loved one in ways that he or she can appreciate. For me, it was morning text messages or phone calls that served as a means of accountability. One sister’s messages give me the leeway to call or text when I am ready. Another sister made it plain that if she did not hear from me within a particular time frame she would drive the hour to my house and break the door down if she had to. (You know I live in the suburbs and don’t want to be kicked out of the condo association, so I return her texts and calls most expeditiously!) Another sister always greets me with “Hey Boo!” which is more than just an affectionate greeting but it also reminds me of a hilarious private joke that we share and just that simple greeting on my voicemail cuts through the fog and helps me to see the light. Be a fog cutter for someone you love in this season of light.

My second duty is to those who suffer. Know that I pray for you from a place of deep knowing and shared pain. Many of you have reached out to me via email and Facebook and I want to encourage you to keep doing so. I am here (by the grace of God) and so I am here for you. LET YOUR FRIENDS HELP YOU. Recognize that help and love will come to you and though they may not come in the form you want, they will come in the form you need. I have a brother who holds my confessions and listens as I spill my innermost pain. He offers no solutions and no judgment. He offers a safe haven for my thoughts and a reassurance that my life is worth living. I have been unemployed and uninsured for months and so I hesitated to see my doctor for fear of racking up more bills that I could not pay. My sisters saw through my veiled attempt to pretend that I was doing well enough on my own prescription of comfort food and wine. I needed to see the doctor and they made it possible. One delivered cash to my doorstep for the cost of the visit and any other unexpected costs. Another sister came to see me and confirm that I was indeed “okay.”  Another sister offered a respite in her home, which she describes as a place of prayer and a place of peace. 

     You are not alone in this journey and I know that there are days when you don’t think that you can make it. I have come out of this particular episode and will loan you a quarter cup of hope from my heart if that’s what it will take to help you hold on for one more day. I don’t know why depression strikes us as it does. I only know that the best way to beat it is to survive it. In this final week of Advent, as we run for our lives and protect that which has been placed inside of us, we are not alone. There is a star to guide us out of the darkness but we will still find ourselves in a cold stable surrounded by animals with whom we keep company but cannot communicate anything but adoration for the baby who will be called Wonderful, Counselor, and Prince of Peace. Weeks ago, I thought I would die as I cried in the wilderness. I cried out, O Come, O Come Emmanuel with a certainty that He would indeed answer. This week, I am still without a job and without medical insurance but I am not without hope. It is my deepest hope that you will fight the fog, follow the star and by all means, meet me at the manger.

Shalom

Music Review : One With You (1-5)

  My love for music crosses all genres and occasionally my listening experience takes me out of myself and into a place where there is nothing but me and the music...and this is one of those projects!  Sometimes, it is hard for me to speak intelligently about music because I do not have the proper vocabulary to describe the tempo and its changes or what the notes do at a particular point in the song. I may not have a professional point of view, but I do have a listener's ear and and words to convey what I hear. I wrote a brief review for this CD on iTunes, but they recommend a 200 word limit for their on-the-go clientele. So, this is part one of my thoughts about this project. I'd love to know what you think too, so I have included links to multiple sites for your listening pleasure and I have also embedded a player in the blog for you!!(The player below has more than the 11 songs on the CD, so don't limit yourself to the 11 under review...help yourself to all of them!)

     
     Greg Stamper is a thoughtful and talented young artist. He blesses listeners weekly with the 'story behind the song' from his blog on Reverbnation. It seems to me that One With You is a great story made up of intriguing characters and told in 11 parts. Each track tells a different story, but all of the stories have one central theme. That theme is divinity. This is not some inaccessible divinity but one that calls to us from familiar places.  These familiar internal places are like happy memories buried in our bones, muscles and tissues.

   God You Are My Joy does not tell the story of the God of a particular denomination. This track is the love song from the vocalist to the God who blessed him with the voice.  God is not found solely in a church but in each of us and this track sends us on an inner journey to connect with the divine that is lodged deep inside! This song puts me in a meditative frame of mind where I can just reflect on how good God has been to me and how lovely that gift is. When I listen to this through my headphones, my head begins to nod and my eyes close and I am transported to a place of private audience with God where my gratitude can just pour out like the notes of this song. My heartbeat and my breath are slowed down by the beat and repetition in the background sounds. The simplicity of the melody pulls me in and then sustains me as the song continues and the music becomes more complex. This song is the ideal meditation cushion!

         Never Giving Up is a melodic journey out of the places where we might be stuck. (Great music to play while sending out resumes! It keeps me going when I'd really like to toss the computer out of the window and go to the mall to pout instead!)  When the time comes for throwing up our hands and screaming, "I QUIT!" the chorus kicks in and we remember that we are not alone and that there is a destiny for each of us! The piano behind the lyrics calls me to a quiet space of prayer and thanksgiving even in the midst of my chaos.  I imagine the piano being played in a small jazz club that provides me with a special kind of prayer closet.  From within my own musical bubble, my eyes close so that I can absorb every note, every rest, every change and every nuance. Inside the bubble, the music becomes a prayer, the chorus a mantra (Can't stop, won't stop, can't stop) and the lyrics sermonically remind me that the only thing to give up is hopelessness! There comes a point when the music changes and  the mantra comes back to remind us that not only will we move forward, but we will not stop moving! The Can't Stop, Won't Stop (around the 4:01 mark) has that timeless Stevie Wonder quality but it also calls me out of my bubble and puts me back into the community of the faithful who are also repeating the mantra of determination and "press-on-full-ness"! (Not in Webster's yet, but I'm working on it!) This is a modern version of "Ain't Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me 'Round" - but with a collective 'me' that includes all of us who are going through tough times!

          Peace.Love.Joy slows things down a little bit.  Even if you have never felt that which we churchy types call 'peace that passes all understanding', as you listen to this track, you suddenly become aware that it is this peace that pushes you to appreciate peace and also to work for that peace. He sings not as a seeker, but as one who can testify to the beauty of peace, love and joy. This is a wonderful tool of evangelism that shares the good news of the gospel - as I hear it.  He does not sing of what he thinks you need. Rather, he sings of what he has found and makes it clear that it is also available to anyone who desires it. He sings of what he has found and his voice has a pure and clean quality that does not coerce...it simply states the good news and welcomes the seeker on the wings of a gentle melody. Notice that this track follows the one about not giving up, so there are no illusions about a life free from struggle. It complements the decision to keep on keeping on no matter how hard it may seem right now. The song is appropriately titled because it simply oozes peace, love and joy with its catchy melody and comforting lyrics. Again, I hear the influence of Stevie Wonder in the background music but that only serves to make it sound sweeter and more familiar to me. This piece demonstrates original creativity influenced by great artists without the stealing or sampling that is heard all too often in today's music.

      Toward Our Wholeness is a wonderful follow-up to Peace.Love.Joy because it continues to tell the story of the wealth of life that is available to you and explains the beckoning that you might have felt while you listened to the previous tracks. This one has a slightly churchy sound that can be recognized in the four notes that come before he sings the words "all of life is a movement toward our wholeness." This is the track that makes me stand up and sway back and forth while holding my hands in the air. This song moves me from theological thought to full-body worship. I would use this song at a baby dedication as the minister prays words of dedication over the child and parents. The song speaks of a wholeness of life that is not confined to a number of days lived but instead recognizes the power of the Divine in each of our lives. The lyrics are clear and what I love most is that the music does not drown out the beautiful simplicity of the thought that our lives are the vehicles taking us into a state of wholeness if we would only allow that Divine spark to catch fire and burn out fear and spiritual poverty. Speaking of a spark, this is the one that would make me raise my lighter at a live performance...or use the flashlight app on my smart phone!

     God-Is-I-Am is the song that made me coin the term Pentecostal-WorldBeat! I can easily hear this beat in the uninhibited worship of a North American Pentecostal church but there is also a flavor to the rhythm that moves it beyond the states and into other parts of the world where people love to sing songs of adoration to God - with or without music, amps, instruments or the other comforts of modern worship.  It has the call and response quality that makes music and preaching so much fun! You can't help but be involved in the music and the message. This song reminds me of the songs that we heard in church when we were young and we knew that the choir would have to sing until we were hoarse because it has that 'can't let go' quality. This is one of those 'can't let go' songs. But the sweet spot is in the message that not only is God great...but because of the Divine in each of us, we can be and are also great! (And it wasn't until 2:45 when Greg says, "Put your hands together" that I realized that I was already keeping time with my hand tapping on my leg as I listened!  Warning: this song may cause spontaneous singing and dancing, so please listen responsibly...or perhaps you should listen responsively!)

    These are my thoughts on the first half of this CD. Stay tuned for my review of the second half! I can only hope that by the time I return with part two of my review that you will at least listen to the free version on Reverbnation. You can also purchase the CD on Amazon and iTunes!  I can't think of a better investment in your own joy and happiness!

Shalom!

Dreams of Candy Coating

     Today is one of those days when I wish that I had been created with a hard candy coating like one of my favorite candies. Today I am emotionally drained.  Today, the heat of life is changing my physical appearance and I am losing my shape and my edges. I am left feeling like a soft puddle of chocolate that still has the same essence and taste but needs to be reshaped - by hand, if you please.  Today, I long for a hard candy shell that would protect my sweet insides from a child's hot little hand. Life, like this happy child, holds me in her pudgy, sweaty palm and while the color drains from my outside, there is still some protection for my malleable and soon-to-be-devoured insides. 

     That candy coating is sweet and though delicate, still tough enough to provide a source of protection for the sweet chocolate goodness on the inside. Sometimes, the candy coating will crack or chip, but the chocolate held inside still finds a place to hold its shape until the moment comes when it too, shall be devoured. Like the chocolate candy, I know that there are times when I will be devoured by the work of living a life of faith, love and hope.  That thin candy coating delays the inevitable if only for a brief moment. 


     I think that our friends and loved ones are well worth what we pour out for them and pour into them. I think that we are all called to invest deeply and carefully in each other's lives from time to time. We are called to be sweet to one another. We are called to love one another. We are called to comfort one another. We are fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God and not in the image of chocolate encased in a thin candy coating.  I thought about working on ways to simultaneously give my heart and guard my heart but then I realized that the hard candy shell would defeat the purpose and process of unconditional love. It's easy to love those who are guaranteed to give back all that we give to them. One of the authentic marks of love is when it is freely given with no expectation of reciprocity. (I did express that it is one of the authentic marks, not the one that FEELS good all of the time!) So, I have decided to trust God with my naked heart. My heart which is and has been broken more often than I care to tell. My heart that beats in tandem with those who mourn and with those who rejoice. My heart which makes room for those who seem least likely to be lovable - against the advice of my brain, by the way! My heart...the soft chocolatey inside without the guardianship of a hard candy shell.

   Given the opportunity to think, reflect, and return to myself, I have found that I do not wish for a mere candy coating which is subject to crack, dissolve, and also be devoured. What I desire...no, what I will do is trust that I am indeed covered with more than a thin candy coating. I am covered, protected, guided, and loved by something much bigger than anything made by a candy company.  It is this covering that allows me to love freely and fully - even to the point of feeling drained...because there is a place of restoration and return on the love invested in others.

    How can I cover you today?? I will not cover you with a thin layer of sweet colorful candy. I will cover you in my heartfelt prayers and ask God to keep you covered...as the old folks would say - 'through dangers seen and unseen'!  For my friends who are going through a tough time right now and are longing for some kind of covering over your delicate heart...here is a song - and the guarantee of my prayers for you! The sing-er asks the pray-er to cover him...My response is to ask God to cover you!


Shalom -




"Remember to cover me / that i might go in peace 
Remember to keep me lifted / that i might go in spirit
Keep my name on your lips / When you pray remember this:
I need you to cover me"

Water - Blog Action Day

     Today, October 15th is Blog Action Day. 
     What does that mean?
     That simply means that bloggers  from across the globe are writing about one issue and this year's issue is water. I can remember the elementary school lessons that cautioned us about wasting water.  Turn off the faucet while you brush your teeth. Take shorter showers. Don't run the dishwasher or washing machine unless there is a full load. All of these lessons were designed to encourage us to be mindful of our tendencies to waste this precious resource.
     In America, we buy filters and bottled water...because we can! We turn on a faucet and expect water to flow freely. We take long hot showers and at worst are inconvenienced when a family member gets in the shower first and uses all of the hot water. (Although, if we wait long enough, the hot water heater will make another hot shower possible.)We wash dishes in water that is so hot that we need gloves or burn cream. We pour water for our pets and some of us even use bottled water for Fido and Mittens.  We own fish tanks that can hold more water than some people have access to for bathing.  In other countries, people...in particular, Colored Girls...walk for miles to acquire water for their families. I get upset when I have to carry a heavy pallet of bottled water into the house and I become indignant when that same bottled water is not on sale at my favorite grocery store. Thinking about my sisters around the globe puts my indignation in check rather quickly. While I am grumbling along the fifty feet from my car to my front door, they are walking for miles in all manner of weather conditions because a heavy pallet of bottled water is not an option. There is no luxury; there is simply survival.
     This week, a friend posted a song on Facebook that called me to remember my baptism.  I did remember that luxurious baptism in a heated pool in a Baptist Church in northern New Jersey.  I thought of the many happy people who gave me the opportunity to place my hands over theirs as they prepared to confess their faith and be submerged in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  I thought of the deacons who made sure that the pool was sanitary and the room was warm and humid enough to cause a Black woman's hair to frizz hard enough to push her church hat right off of her head! I thought of the joy that consumes us on the day that we are baptized in clean, warm water and then I also thought of the pilgrims who travel to the Ganges for a spiritual cleansing in water that is considered the dirtiest in the world. I wonder if I would have been so happy on the day of my baptism if the water had been brown and muddy. I wonder if I would have been as happy for them to "take me to the water" if I couldn't see the bottom of the pool. I wonder...do we sanitize more than the pool and the water with our processes? (My OCD tendencies are okay with the chlorinated water, but I still wonder...)
     Water is key to our survival as human and spiritual beings. It's funny to me that although many of us have access to this key element, we are still thirsty. We are dying of thirst and there is no relief in sight.  We are holding supersized cups full of so-called energy drinks, and yet we are still dying of thirst and too tired to move.  We have access to living waters, and yet we find ourselves chapped, parched, and desolate inside. 
     Today, I pray that we will be moved to seek that water that satisfies the soul. I pray that we will abandon our filters, our bottles, our designer, mineral, and otherwise overpriced water that does not satisfy. I pray that we will reconsider that which satisfies and pour some out for someone who also needs a sip.  I pray that we would teach our children to be mindful of how they use water as a natural resource, but I also pray that we would teach our children to seek, find, and drink from the Living Waters that satisfy the soul.

Shalom!


Living Water is readily available to all of us. Let's work to make clean water equally available...

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Unemployment Fun

Just for fun, here's a list of things to do when you're unemployed!

• "They" say that you cannot catch up on missed sleep…clearly, "they" didn’t try hard enough! In the early stages of unemployment, you probably need to give your body a little extra loving kindness by way of waking without alarm clocks (unless the kids need your help to get to the bus on time) and mid day naps. You know your body, so if sleep calls…you must answer. The key is to know when to call it quits and go back to a schedule of bedtime and wake time. Unless you have a trust fund or a spouse with unlimited resources, you will probably have to return to a schedule when you return to work, so don’t make it harder on yourself than it needs to be. It's called a nap, not a coma!

• Visit some places that you would not ordinarily have time to visit. Check out the sights in your area. Botanical Gardens, museums, art galleries, and the like. Read the Sunday paper and see what’s happening in your neighborhood.  I attended book signings and poetry readings and live jazz performances that I might not have even noticed had I been working. I was also better able to enjoy these events because there were no distracting thoughts of work to steal my joy. Get out and soak up the free stuff!   (Avoid places like car dealerships, malls, expensive spas and nail salons –unless you have a  gift card or some other equally useful hook-up. These are places which are specifically designed to make you spend what you don’t have. Why tempt fate when you can play for free?)

• Now, about that television thing…be careful because it can be both a comfortable friend and a seductive lover. For the sake of personal restoration, I am in favor of an all day marathon of Season 6 of Gray’s Anatomy, House M.D., Law and Order or your show of choice. Once I get the details of the storyline, I’m good to go. (Go as in go somewhere that is nowhere near the television!) If I watch the daily installments of said television shows, I give control of my time and schedule to the network instead of keeping it for myself.  Go on and splurge on the cheapest Netflix subscription so that you can schedule your marathon to suit your schedule. Then, return the videos and return to something productive!

•  Perfect one of the staples in your cooking repertoire! I like rice and can eat rice with almost any meal. When I worked, I would use the boil in bag kind and call it a night (I am so ashamed)…mostly because I was not secure in my rice cooking skills. Now, I can make an excellent pot of West Indian “cook-up-rice” (rice that has every item in the fridge including leftover chicken, beans or peas and the ever temperamental coconut milk) at the drop of a hat. Now, I no longer mess up a great gourmet meal with below average rice on the side!  You're thinking rice? Really? Yes, I am the child of southerners and I LIKE RICE. I like white rice, brown rice, yellow rice, Spanish rice, wild rice, tame rice, black rice, long grain rice...shoot, I even like Rice A Roni! (Moving on now that I'm beginning to sound like Bubba Blue from Forrest Gump)

• Review your job skills. Take an on-line assessment or two. Pretend that you are actually at work, and keep reading the journals, try something new, find a free seminar or wrangle a scholarship for one with a fee. Stay sharp and carve out time to make it happen. Stay on top of your game so that you can mention it in the interview that is coming your way sooner than you think! Ask yourself...would YOU hire YOU...why or why not?

• Have lunch with the friends you have been missing. You won't be stressed about getting back to work, so you will be a great lunch companion. (But be sensitive to the constraints of your lunch partner - who DOES have a job…no need to be obnoxious about not having a 1:00 appointment!) Schedule these carefully so that you do not upset the delicate balance of money and fun. (And don't assume that just because they have a job that they should pay for your meal! Come prepared to at least go Dutch! Sheesh! We're unemployed not uncouth!)

• Revisit and revise your budget. No one knows how long the season of unemployment will last, so you need to prepare yourself for the potential changes in your lifestyle. Decide now what you are willing to forgo for the good of the bank account. You can keep the high priced phone plan that includes internet service, but do you really need all of those cable channels? This is a personal matter but now that I have unlimited time, I have found ways to move money around and re-evaluate the ways in which I spend. And it helps if you cancel your catalogs or take them directly from the mailbox to the recycling bin. I do love Brooks Brothers but I cannot bear to know that my favorite non-iron shirt is on sale and I cannot order one! (Oh the agony of fiscal responsibility!)

• Don’t get caught up in satiety purchases. I can EASILY spend $50 on magazines in one trip to Barnes and Noble. The county library has most of these magazines but it requires that I sacrifice the comfort of reading on my couch for cost-free reading at the library. These days, you can just read them in the bookstore coffee shop if you prefer - but that's just too tempting for me. My true friends have blessed me with Starbucks gift cards and their "Buy 15 - get one free" coupons so that I can maintain my addiction...umm, I mean appreciation of the coffee of the day, the decaf-breve-white mocha, and passion tea lemonade. (I can quit any time I want to...but I don't have to!)

• Volunteer! It's easy enough. First, think of all of the skills and gifts that you have…are you thinking? Now, think of a great place to put them to use! Recently, I volunteered to work a registration table for a church function. I only knew four people when I arrived at my duty station, but at the end of the day, I had smiled at, chatted with, and assisted hundreds more! (And I wore my big girl church clothes – which was its own reward!) Volunteering helps you to use your gifts for good and it helps others who may need to get something done. Being productive is a good deterrent to the demons that surface during the wee hours when the rejection letters and silent response rejections pour in faster than you can counter with your efforts to 'keep trying'.

• Dig into your spirituality! Meditate, pray, write, read, create, burn incense…do something but do it with greater depth, meaning, love and joy! Who knows, this might lead you to an awareness of what your true calling is! There is also the comfort in knowing that there is a divine force that is waiting to commune with you - in hard times as well as easy times.

•   Go to the doctor before your insurance runs out...and get cleared to go to the gym or to work out at home in front of the television. Remember how you wanted to get in shape but didn’t have the time? Well, now you have plenty of time and you’ll want to be in top shape for the hard work of job hunting! If the saying is true, and it's not what you know but who you know...you just might meet your new co-worker, business partner, or employer on the next treadmill!

•  Finally, but not exhaustively, remember that searching for a job is a job in itself. Set aside blocks of time specifically dedicated to the hunt. It will take some time to do those on line applications, so be prepared. Take your laptop to Starbucks (or McDonalds, or Borders, or wherever you are most comfortable), appreciate the free Wi-Fi and get busy for no less than 3 hours each weekday. No laptop you say? The library awaits...and it's FREE! You would (probably) be at work for at least 8 hours on a regular day, so don’t get out of the habit of working for specific blocks of time. And of course, after a week of serious and dedicated job hunting, feel free to treat yourself to a drink and an appetizer at your favorite happy hour spot!

May you find Grace and Peace in your season of unemployment.

 

Poem: Pink Ribbon Baby

Pink Ribbon Baby

You could have settled anywhere
But you chose to nurse at my breast
The left one
Near my heart

Bastard

Created by co-mingling
Not from co-mmitment

Nestled inside me
Cells of my cells
Flesh of my flesh
Forcing feedings
Round the clock

Growing
Growing
Growing

No one dares stroke the womb
The warm womb that feeds you

As your mother, I should warn you
My body knows how to miscarry
Perhaps - even you -
     My bastard clump of splitting cells
Nursing at my breast
The left one
Closest to my heart

by Carla A. Jones

Reverendsister's Ink 2010