OF ANGELS, CATS AND POETRY

     Mr. P. called me before our scheduled appointment and asked, if it was OK to meet at his new place of residence instead of the Alameda library, where we usually have our sessions. 

     I came to his house, which he rents now from an old lady staying in the Assisted Living Home. The living room was cheery, with plush yellow carpet. On a low coffee table stood, perhaps, thirty ceramic angels and even more of them decorated the corners of the small room! "You are, obviously, well taken care off in here" - I said. 

     Mr. P. brought out a large, opaque-beige cat. It was a long haired Himalayan, with the pushed-in nose of that breed. My counselor stuck the fur ball into my arms, and I glanced into her blue eyes. She did not look pleased! Like many cats with the flat faces, she had trouble breathing. Plus to unfriendly demeanor, she kept snorting and wheezing, so I quickly dropped her on the canary hued carpet. The cat settled to check, if all her parts were in place, thoroughly licking them as she listened to our conversation.
      "If you wrote a book, what would be it's name? If you were in a parade, where would you like to be? If you could go back to when you were 19, what in your life would you do differently?" 
     Those were the questions on the Un-game cards. Mr. P. suggests that game to us, and uses it as a means to break ice in the beginning of a session. That was the first time he did that with me, and I liked that I could concisely relay an outlook on my life.
     "If I wrote a book, the title would be: "Searching for a better life"". "If I was in a parade, I would like to just seat on the side of the street, looking on, and leave when I get bored". "If I became 19 years old again, I would tell myself not to have such a tragic view on things as I used to have, and take them in stride". Now I think, the answer to that question should've been: "Believe in God and let Him work in your life".
     Mr. P. took out a thick, leather bound tome. I just wanted to ask if it was a Bible, when he said: "This is not a Bible!" It was a book of poetry by Edgar Guest. He read to me some of the poems, which were all about a person striving to live a modest, simple life of service to others. I quite enjoyed them, and we had a lot to talk about afterwords.
     The best part of the session came when we began talking of Taka's relationship with Sonny. I told Mr. P. how Taka badgers our son for hours, and Sonny comes out of those one-sided conversations ever more stooped-over and defeated. Mr. P. suggested that, I should talk to Sonny, to tell him that, every time he feels overwhelmed by his dad's ranting, he should get out on the house for a few hours. I can even send him on some errand, to provide a reason, why he should leave right away. It's a good idea, and I didn't want to sound negative, but on many an occasion, when I tried to extricate Sonny out of Taka's talking sessions, Taka wouldn't let him leave. Perhaps, it will work from now on!
     As we talked, the cat stayed between us, sometimes licking herself, sometimes sneezing or dragging her fuzzy behind on the carpet to relieve some itch. Mr. P. told me that, since her owner was at the Assisted Living place, the cat stayed in the house alone for a year and a half. Someone would come every couple of days to give her food and clean litter, - that 's all! Now, she enjoyed human company and didn't leave us even for a short bit. She became friendlier too: at one point, she rolled over on her side, showing us a furry belly, and looked at me, flirting! I even imagined her batting her eyes at me!
     

IN DIFFERENT LANES

     Hanah is at home. I have a thousand reasons to get upset: she doesn't help, doesn't talk with Reina, doesn't do much of anything except sitting or lying on the couch that became her room this stay at home and either watch videos or work on her drawings. This last thing is OK by me: she is doing it for her theater job. Well, she doesn't really get payed, but getting such consistent experience at your future occupation is also valuable! They use Hanah's designs for stage scenery, plays' posters and make-up that she made all the time, as she told me!
     She is at home and I have a thousand complaints and - I am happy! Or, rather, content! 
     Today we went to the pool together with Hanah and Reina. The girls had to endure a little bit of the sales talk concerning joining the gym,  but since I DO want Hanah to get a gym membership for the few weeks that she will spend at home, so that she can exercise and also be my pool buddy for one more day a week, - we didn't mind too much.
     Young people are so weird! May be it's just my kids?! Hanah would not talk with Reina, would not get to know her; and Sonny is, probably, the same. I feel bad: it must be painful for my niece from Japan, and lonely too! But what can I do? I can't push Hanah and Sonny to become friends with Reina. I asked them a few times to talk to her, but things didn't move forward beyond that. Is it natural for people of their age to shy away from each other? I wish, I knew!
     The water was cool. I grabbed a couple of weights and began walking up and down the pool lane. pushing the weights with styrofoam ends under the water and feeling the resistance that will help me lose belly fat and strengthen my core. Hanah and Reina began to swim in two other lanes, looking away whenever they happened to stop next to each other. It was awkward, and the girls had pained expressions on their faces, but I ignored it: I came there to exercise, and everything else was besides the point. In about twenty minutes, the door to the pool area opened and a very fat black man walked in, followed by someone who was pushing his wheelchair. The black man walked into the pool, and his companion just sat in the wheelchair with a book to wait.
     For a few minutes the man in the pool jumped up and down at the opposite end of the pool than us. Then he began to make his way towards us. I glanced at the girls. Reina, probably, never was in close proximity to black people, and I didn't know, what her reaction would be. 
     The man stopped at the end where we were. He huffed and puffed a little, as he did his best to make his muscles work, then asked me about the weights that I was using. That was the beginning of a very lively conversation between us about the weight loss. The girls took off swimming, and after a while I followed them, pushing my devices up, down and to both sides. I didn't ask Reina about her experience: it seems too confronting, somehow, to talk to her about the race issues.
     
     
 

THE ANATOMY OF AN EXERCISE

     How is my weight loss going, you ask? It's going, but I don't know, which way!
     I realized that, without some effort on my part to promote the weight loss, I will soon start gaining everything that I managed to lose back, and, as most of you, fellow dieters out there, know, the lost pounds like to bring company, when they come rolling back!
     I called Mary. We used to go to the pool together; then I got sick, and our pool exercises stopped. I am upset with her: she didn't make any attempt to even keep in touch when I was sick, never mind trying to help! But I need an exercise buddy, and she is the only one who wants to do it. 
     We decided to go on Sunday. Taka took kids to Monterey Bay Aquarium, and it was a good time to take care of myself. Mary said that she will bring her youngest son and let him play in a children's room, while we'll be in the pool. 
     What was that saying about men planning and God smiling at that?
     As I drove up to the 24-Hour-Fitness building, I saw Mary and her son emerge from it's doors. Uh-oh!
     24-Hour-Fitness closed children's play rooms in it's cheaper facilities! Mary could not let her boy sit in the car for an hour while we exercised! He couldn't hang by the side of the pool or in the gym either! The only thing left to do was to forget about pool. Or was it?
      I suggested that she should take her son home, and we could meet for a coffee after I finish swimming. Feeling proud of my newly found  determination, but very insecure on my own, I went to the gym by myself.
     The pool area was filled with men! Oh, my God, there were at least 10 of them there! A couple of women were treading water, but they were few and far in between. 
     I, in my modest one piece swim suit, passed the guys sitting on a bench, looking at the pool and, with a grim expression, lowered myself into the water. If they wanted to watch me, it would be to their own detriment!
     Mary did me a favor by not coming! I stuck to my exercises and tried not to look around. The view was not very pleasant, anyway! As someone of a rotund physique, I can't talk about the men's big bellies proudly exposed to the world. I can, however, mention that, not one pair of swim trunks rested where it belonged! I think, I willed myself to go blind for a while, rather than watch hairy ... parts of anatomy ... floating in the water everywhere around me!

COLD SHOULDER

        Last Sunday, I went to the Creekside Community Church in San Leandro. It was by Mr. P.'s invitation, and Teresa, Doris and Roberta from my Al Anon group (Doris and Roberta also being from my own church) were supposed to come too.

     I find it harder and harder relating to my church's ideas, agenda and attitudes. For a while I went to Sunday Services and other events to keep in touch with people whom I knew. I considered them my friends, just by virtue of them being in the same church and because they went through a lot of the same experiences as I there. Over the years, however, I came to realize that,                                                                    my community was not what it was supposed to be! First, I lost faith in the leaders, then - in the goals of the Unification Church. Then, one by one, people around me abandoned me, and I began to understand that I - and they - have been duped to think that, ours was a way to build a heavenly environment, but, in fact, the leadership was only concerned about money, and members (including myself) didn't       learn, didn't evolve in all the years we've been working in the church into better human beings, although we try to attract and teach others. I also felt that people in my congregation were cold and unwelcoming toward each other.

Pastor of my church.

     So, I began to look for another church. I am capable of connecting with God through prayer and in my thoughts, but I like belonging to a community of believers. 
     Roberta and I were on time for Sunday Service. Mr. P. and Teresa with her daughter came soon. Doris never showed up. I was not surprised: she called me, and I said that I will pick her up, if she can be on time. She opted for going by herself. Perhaps, I should've been more concerned about my acquaintance than about being punctual? She is late a lot, that's her trait, but should I feel superior and alienate her because of it?
     I liked that the songs that we sang to the accompaniment of a small band were original and written by the lead singer. The pastor wore simple slacks and a polo shirt. He talked of success, as God sees it. I listened for a while, then drifted peacefully into a dreamworld. 
     Mr. P. nudged me, and I came to to hear things that I really was trying to find out about success and how to find it! 
     The congregation at Creekside looked very nice. They were people of different races and ages; many of them brought children. Some                                                           welcomed me and Roberta, especially at the time allotted for it in the Service. But I sensed a coldness there. They would introduce themselves and shake my hand with a smile, but their eyes would then slide away uncomfortably, and none of them wanted to talk to me after the sermon finished. I gave it some time: I didn't leave right away or anything like that! I checked, if what I was feeling was true. No one came over to welcome us as visitors. Even Mr. P. busied himself talking to Teresa and her child. Roberta and I sat right behind his back, as he chatted with Teresa, but he never bothered to include us in a conversation. After a while, I got Roberta and brought her to the car. I had the same cold feeling at Creekside as in my own church! 
     I went to say goodbye to Mr. P. and Teresa then. Didn't want to be impolite. He asked me, if I saw the difference between that church and my own. I said: "No!" 
     "Well," - he said in a very pedantic tone - "God's spirit is here!" 
     "As I understand it" - was my reply - "God's spirit is everywhere!"
     As doubting as I am about my deeds and perceptions, I believe that I was not wrong in seeing the Creeekside for what it is: a fine place, if you already belong to it, but a cold shoulder, if you don't.

   
     

VARIOUS LUMPS

A few days in pictures...

This lump on the couch is Hanah! Her friend drove her home from Arcata, where they live. The friend slept on another couch and left early in the morning.

Sylvie is usually very suspicious of strangers,

but, for some reason, she chose Hanah's friend, Marissa, as her new best friend.

Chickie, who was, originally, Hanah's cat, for a couple of days absolutely refused to acknowledge her, until I came home and found him just soaking up Hanah's ministrations to him!

He even got up and turned over to let Hanah brush his other side!

We went to Sushi Boat again to celebrate Hanah's return and to treat Marissa to some Japanese food. 

                                                                                                                                                           

It was fun sitting at the table with all these young people!

That's Sonny, with a piece of sashimi hanging in front of his face from the chopsticks.

REACH!

A few thoughts occurred to me as I was driving to an appointment with Mr. P.
     I began to agonize again about my apparent lack of luck in achieving lasting positive results. It seems that I, finally, began to take care of myself. Why is it so difficult for me to do the right thing? Even when I apply willpower and perseverance, all my efforts go in the toilet!
     If only I could stop hoping for a better outcome! How painful it is when my hopes get dashed! 
     "What am I missing?" - I thought. Hope is the result of faith. Do I even know, what it means, to have faith?
     I reached with my heart and mind to talk to God. It was not easy to do while navigating a freeway! Still, with some effort and flexing of my "prayer muscles", I could feel some degree of spiritual awareness.
     Do I even know, what it means to have faith? I live, most of the time, comfortable life; there is no immediate danger to me or my loved ones. Yet I already lost faith that, God can reach me in my circumstances and help me change my life for the better! I am crying about a little pain and being abandoned by friends. Is my situation that severe? Didn't others endure much more without any visible means of relief, but kept believing that the Higher Power is in control and has a purpose for their lives and suffering?
     I might be simple-minded and an idiot, but I began feeling better almost right away. All through my session with Mr. P., I kept thinking: "I need to learn about faith!" He told me about how God chose us from the foundations of His Creation, that He sends His Word to us, which will not ignored or thwarted. I needed more. I need to work on my faith, so that God can reach me, and I can reach Him!

GRUDGES AND CHOPSTICKS

     I took Roberta to a physical therapy appointment yesterday. While she was exercising, I went to a Chinese store nearby. For some reason, all the chopsticks in our home are mismatched, and some absolutely essential (as I was told) condiments, like wasabi and hot chili oil, are missing. That was my chance to correct the situation by throwing some money at it!
     I zigged and zagged along the narrow shop's aisles to my heart's content. It's funny, how necessary  different items, of which you absolutely didn't think before entering the store, become to a shopper's mind! Upon paying for my purchases, I realized that I forgot to buy chopsticks and went back to the shelves, returning to  the register with a few more items!
     Reina attends an English conversation class, and last night I decided to take her there. We had an easy (at least it seemed so to me) talk on the way there. I contacted Mary with whom I usually go to pool to  meet for a cup of coffee, while Reina would be in class. Mary and I resumed our going to the pool: without it I will blow up to my previous weight in no time at all!
     Mary finishes work at 5, so she told me that she'll be at a Jack in the Box by 5:40. I called her at 6, and she was still stuck in traffic. 
     She showed up at 6:20, we talked and laughed for about twenty minutes and then my alarm rang: it was time to pick up Reina. 
     I have a grudge against Mary, as well as against my, so called friends. NONE of them bothered to call or come to help, while I was sick. If I died, they wouldn't even know about it! Well, people don't die from gout, although, they wish they could! 
     But really, what kind of friends would tell you, like Mary did: "You take care of your gout and I'll take care of my family" - and not bother for weeks to find out how I was? I know, I know, Mr. P., I should confront her and tell her exactly how I feel, but then I might lose my pool companion! A-a-a-a-n-d I am too "chicken" to do it!