Every single day I spend time thinking about what I need to improve myself.
I need to balance that with a self appreciation exercise but it's so much easier to think about those things we dislike about ourselves then those things we love. That is a failure method.
I want to help women but my "real" personality is getting in the way. It's gotten in the way my whole life. I am a hood chick, which means that I am from the poor part of town, which means I speak ebonics and I have a ghetto twang to my speaking patterns that I can not erase. I'm also very intelligent which makes for an interesting conversation if you ever get the chance. I went from being a recluse to being surrounded by over a hundred people at all times and the adjustment has been rough on me.
I just prayed that it would go away or that I would be able to change but I am so rough around the edges, meaning I am my REAL SELF all the time and most people aren't. There's a difference between how you behave around your friends and the way you behave at work. For ME, there's no difference. I am my REAL self ALL THE TIME. Being this way has never benefited me.
Being at this shelter is also affecting my personality. Because the people here are habitually homeless I have had to change the way I interact and speak. I had to reduce my level of vocabulary and I find myself asking, "Are you high?" when I'm talking to people and sometimes the answer is YES.
A man came up to me last night after the AA meeting and apologized because the last interaction he had where he was kind of rude to me, he said he was drunk at the time.
People here criticize each other instead of thinking of ways to improve their lives. One day a woman who had only been here for one week was complaining about how hard it is to vend the newspaper on the street and I agreed. Then she complained even more and a light bulb went off in my head.
"I can think of a way for you to get out of here and try to get your own place but it would involve taking a risk," I told her with a gleam in my eye.
"No," she said and shook her head. "I'm not ready for that. I just want the workload to be lighter. Maybe vend for 3 days and do housekeeping for 3."
"So, you mean you're complaining but you just want to be more comfortable HERE instead of get out of here?"
"Yes," she said.
I don't know what to do. I feel like I am the one holding me back from achieving success. I've blamed myself for so long and I study and study all the great leaders and all the successful people I can find but none of their biographies ever mention what to do if YOU are the problem.
Everyday I'm wishing more strongly to find a place in this world where I can fit in. Knowing you have never belonged ANYWHERE can make you go crazy.
Anyway, Today was an okay day on the road. The police came by and told me that I could not walk in the street to ask for donations so I made way less money than I am used to. I'll try again tomorrow and maybe If I'm lucky, tomorrow will be the day that I figure out how to BE so that I can really be a help.
Oh yeah, I received a call from a woman in crisis today. I have no idea how she found my cell phone number online. She lives in Nashville and is on the verge of losing her business and home. I managed to speak a few words of encouragement about being on the verge of a life transition but I could tell what she really needed was MONEY.
I have none to give. I want to give, desperately. I want to give and be a help but I have nothing right now. I can't help in this position.
I also met a woman today in the shelter. She ran away from her hometown after finally leaving her abusive boyfriend. He found her and threatened to kill her so someone bought her a bus ticket and she ended up here.
She heard me speaking on the phone to the woman from Nashville and she shared her story with me, thanking me for offering such important, soothing words to the stranger on the phone. She said my words made HER feel better.
I fell asleep but then I woke up shortly before one for some reason. I was feeling sad because I couldn't figure out how to change who I am to make this project better. I started writing this post and my phone rang.
It was the young man who used to own my cell phone number. Since the first day I changed my number I have been receiving phone calls and texts for him almost every day. I joked with him that I felt like I was his secretary.
We talked and talked and he shared that he was a rapper from South Miami and I told him that I am a journalist in Hollywood. Then we shared our facebook pages so we could SEE who we were talking to and he looked at my pictures. Then I shared about my project and he was amazed.
Before we hung up he was crying and telling me that the spirit of God was touching him and speaking through him. He said that he couldn't stop crying because God was telling him that everything would be taken care of for me and that I should praise him in advance. He said that I was special and favored and that God was going to take me even higher than I could ever imagine. He said God would make me great. He couldn't stop crying while he was on the phone with me. He said, "I am so privileged to speak to you. I am so honored."
I'm sitting here looking at the fence on the patio and shaking my head. I can HEAR him but I don't FEEL him. All I see right now is the fact that I have nothing but the burning desire to help women. I can't help because I have nothing. God's gonna elevate me?
Well, I wish that would happen soon because I want to make sure this abused woman is safe and I want to help that woman who is about to lose her business. Right now, all I can do is listen and tell them everything is going to be alright.
But are my words enough?
That's all I have for now.
1 comments:
I think what you're trying to do is very admirable and you really put yourself out there in giving away everything you have to do it. Kudos to you. You've realized that some of the homeless don't really have the desire to change their situation. You'll have to look for those few that are truly motivated to improve their lives. I hope you realize your dream.
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