There is More Work to be Done
Category: Life

Tomorrow is Cinco de Mayo. I will eat at a Mexican restaurant here in Charlottesville, VA. So far, it seems like a great town and UV is really nice. The students all seem soft and friendly.

I'm sitting in my van in a mostly empty parking garage a little past midnight. I was at the library but it just closed. How does a library close at midnight on the Sunday night before finals week? I was online catching up on stuff, emailing couch surfers and one of my former supervisors at the Urban League Ed. Oh yeah, I applied for a job at Villa Julie U in Maryland in my shorts, t-shirt and sandals.

Today was my second travel day after leaving Danbury. Somehow my door fixed itself enough for me to be able to open and close my door to get I and out but more importantly- push the switch that opens my gas lid on the outside of the van. I stuck a small mirror that I bought to be a temporary replacement for the driver's side mirror, which was crushed. Not the best situation but it works till I get it all fixed. I guess I need to stay somewhere long enough in order for that to happen.

I emailed a bunch of couch surfers earlier this evening but both that responded that they were too busy with exams to host tonight; I will sleep in my van. After I finish writing, I will search for a place for me to hide and rest without being bothering or being bothered by others. This being a college town, I need to be more attentive. It was warm today here, so I will not have to worry about the temperature tonight.

Last night I couch surfed with a young woman who rents a loft out in the country on a horse farm about 30-40 miles form Baltimore and a little further form D.C. She was nice, friendly and accommodating but we really never hit it off. We are different in too many critical ways. A few are pace/speed of life, need for control/freedom and general ease with life. We went to an old town named Ellicott Coty this afternoon. That went better but our variance in walking speed was a little uncomfortable. She lives alone and has no friends in the rural area she lives in. This affected her social skills and need for connection I think.

While being tourists, we visited historic "Colored School" that was restored. The history and feel of the place were re-assuring to me. Somehow I felt hope form being there and seeing and feeling the courage that was necessary for them to have such a school. I take schooling and so many other privileges for granted. This was subtle ad heartfelt reminder of the struggles that many folks have endured and still do. There is more work to be done. We are not free yet.

I have experienced what Reiki students go through that I had not personally felt in a real long time. It is the fall-off in intensity, focus and rhythm after a group intensive. The separation from the Teacher and the group energy has demonstrated that I have just begun this new process with new meditations. What we feel in the force, depth and connection to the energy deceases significantly when we are by ourselves in the world again. I already miss the intensive and the group. There is more work to be done.

7:04 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Qi Healing
Current mood: awake
Category: Religion and Philosophy

Today was the day I was looking forward to. The Qi Healer Intensive was at the point of the class where all the students would be practicing Qi Healing on each other. This .. is what I cam to do Danbury, Ct to experience.

As a Reiki Teaching Master for many years, I have plenty of experience with energy and working with others. Because of this, I knew that profound experiences would be shared together. I was not disappointed.

The intensity and focus of the Qi and the students was impressive. It is really neat to participate in a group with such committed people. The one member who was in a different [place, was having some external challenges and decided to leave against the Teacher and classmates recommendations. The four other group members are all experienced and dedicated Qi Gong, Tai Ji or Shiatsu practitioners and teachers. I am not in a group with a bunch of lightweights. The four of them continue to impress with their knowledge, wisdom and balance, and they are all fun and funny to hangout with. W have a series of "inside" jokes ranging from The Skilled Clipboard Holder to The Room with a Window and the Ice Cream Goddess. We have enjoyed each other's company and friendship while experiencing this process together, especially those of us that have also slept here at night.

So I was in good company when we got down to actually working on each other. I received five healing in total, and with each one felt a release of dead energy or physical discomfort. Since I have not been sleeping well, I was especially grateful fort he clearing, balancing and strengthening each healer did on my head without it being discussed. I feel so much better tonight from the healings.

After dinner tonight, one of the guys and myself were leaving for a nice evening walk after we all made our jokes about the Ice Cream Goddess. We were about fifteen feet into the residential style parking lot when he noticed somebody drove their car into his, which literally moved his SUV sideways about six feet and crashed into my driver's side door! It almost seems impossible based on the small size of the parking lot for a vehicle to actually make this happen, but it did. My door is completely knocked in, as well as my side view mirror. An interesting event with t he intensive ending tomorrow and my van being my transportation, "home" and private space these days. It seems bizarre and comical that I am homeless, unemployed, broke and now the owner of a banged up, un-drivable van AND feeling better than I can remember! The clarity, focus, softness, connection and vitality are all things I have been working on; who knew this is how and when they would manifest? The Universe certainly does things in ways simple men like myself cannot figure out. And I think this is the way it is supposed to be.

8:41 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Follow my Nose
Category: Life

We have the option of a Tai Ji class after our session daily. I signed up for it and paid the fee for the week. As an unemployed homeless guy, this is a bit of a leap. But of course this whole intensive is a bit of an economic leap for me. My thinking was that I am here doing this Qi Healer Intensive when will the opportunity come again? So I added this to my already growing credit card balance. So much for fighting Corporate America.

Yesterday, after our Qi Healer session, I was anticipating the Tai Ji class. It was a but a few minutes in before I knew in every inch of my being that this class at this time is not something I am to participate in. The shift in energy and brain rhythm is too great for a sensitive Soul as myself. I hung in there fort hr entire 60 minutes; I did not want to disrespect the teacher or anybody else. I remembered along the way what I did appreciate about the form of Tai Ji when I used to practice in the early nineties. But still knew this is not what I am to be doing at this time.

I think folks often neglect the equally important question of not just if we are to do something but also at this time. Timing is critical. We may not be ready yet. Something about the environment or situation may need to shift before we participate.

I remember in 2002, when I first arrived in Madison, WI and was a member at the local co-op, Willy Street Grocery Co-op. After a few months, one night I was on line to pay for my produce and bulk grains, I received an Inner sense that I was to do Reiki with the young woman who was the cashier that I had never seen nor met previously. Knowing there are few social graces that support walking up to a cashier worker and offering Reiki to her; I did some discernment and decided this was not the time to have that conversation with her. It would happen when and if it was meant to be. We became acquaintances from each time I went through her line and continued to receive the same message in meditation that it was not time yet. This process lasted about a year and a half. The one day I knew it was time to mention it to her. I casually spoke about her and Reiki and left. The next time I was there, about a week later, she flagged me down and excitedly shared that she did want to receive a Reiki treatment and we set up a time to do that Friday night after her Yoga class. Over the next few months we had several Reiki sessions and they were all intense, powerful and intimate. The tie was right and we were both ready. That is how it works.

This morning I woke knowing in my gut that I was not to suppose to participate in the Tai Ji class any longer. I knew this would be awkward since the instructor is my teacher's daughter and everybody in my class is also in the Tai Ji class. At lunchtime, I let somebody know I was not going to participate any more. They gave me a somewhat concerned look but it was no big deal. The time is not right and that is that. Just following my nose.

11:18 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

I Tried
Category: Life

I Tried
Cried
Applied
And was denied.

I was Bold
Sold
Told
Still did not come up Gold.

I Jumped
Pumped
Humped
And in the end I was just Bumped.

And then I Dove
Wove
Rove
Did they know how hard I Drove?

I pushed Send
Bend
Mend
How can this be the End?

Finger to keys every day
Every way
Every say
Is there no Right To Play?

Now, what do I Do?
Who
To
Where shall I place my left Shoe?

What to do with these Tears?
Fears
Years
Time to get in my van and change Gears.

A place to lay my Head
Bed
Fed
I'd be fine in a Shed.

I'll Meditate
Deviate
Resuscitate
Let the Universe Create.

Time to stop my Roam
Tome
OM
And build a new Home.

11:17 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

But they ARE good to look at
Current mood: sassy
Category: Romance and Relationships

I spent some time today at Jamestown Beach. Different beach, different part of the country- same result. I cold not focus on really much else but the enchanting bodies and smiles of college girls- same story, different bathing suit, for me that is.

I tries, I really did. I tried reading, naps, meditation, and photography and still ended up in the same place. It is embarrassing to be a middle-aged man and still be so consumed with the fire of lust and passion for young women and their bikinis. It is not that I do to appreciate the beauty of adult women, I definitely do. But they do not put the same effort and focus on their appearance as those in there twenties often do. The effort pays off in gawking and attention. The adult women have decided advantage in poise, maturity and wisdom, they know they know their are more important things in their life their hair, suntan and fiercely clutching a cell phone.

But what is behind this desire or obsession I have? It is easy to just dump it on cultural programming and pop culture. I appreciate a nice scapegoat from time to time. They are always good for a get-out-of-jail-free-card on accountability ad responsibility. Like the girl in the low-cut, turquoise bikini, scapegoats are very tempting. Unfortunately, it is really about me, not pop culture.

Or, I could grasp onto the effect of male role models in family. They were all male chauvinistic pigs, which "understood" that all women were sluts, liars, cheaters and idiots. Yes, that would be another avenue I could use as an escape form owning my feelings and thoughts. I could probably get great support from my colleagues in the counseling field. They love placing most obstacles on the patterning of our childhood experiences. I will not discount the perspective generically or specifically, but it is still on me to mature and grow. I a not a child anymore and have plenty of adult patterns and experiences to draw from.

Then there are the exes. They certainly have shaped and formed my schema on what makes a woman attractive and why. If looked at closer, they were al women I picked and picked me. Typically, "we" supported our own patterning and, therefore, not really accurate data or influences.

Lets dig deeper. Can I really just put aside al these questions aside and stare directly at the fact that I am single and have not dated much in recent years and have had even less ex than that? De we need to look any further? Would the solution be a good blowjob and mind-blowing sexual experiences? Is that the Magic Wand I am searching for that makes this all disappear into thin air like the lady in Houdini's box? I want to say yes but I am not completely sold. My gut tells me if that were all in need, I would have done so by now, put aside my values and do it already.

Deep inside the phrase "fear of rejection" stirs in my belly in the way that lets us know that we have just outed ourselves to at least our self, if not others. Fear of rejection. Fantasies and daydreams do not say no. Fantasies and daydreams do not judge my looks. ALWAYS romantic in stimulation without risk or consequences, unless we begin to believe that fantasies and daydreams are real. I do not for the most part. I am really aware the girl in the low-cut, turquoise bikini with a tanning salon tan did not have rapturous sex on the beach earlier this afternoon. The only evidence is the minor erection I woke with from my nap on the beach. And she was texting someone with her cell phone about forty feet away while posing for anyone watching. Yep, I know the difference. And besides, there are no condoms in daydreams and fantasies.

Risk. Risk is the answer. Risking rejection, risking pain and risking disappointment. Pop culture, social programs, my dad, brother and ex-girlfriends may do whatever they please, but all I have to do is leap. Just leap and embrace risk.

6:18 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Michaelicated
Current mood: awake
Category: Life

It's a small acupuncture treatment room. Along the wall is a low, horizontal wooden cabinet with one side enclosed with glass doors that hold supplies; needles, towels and head cushions. The twin sized "bed" with pink and green floral print sheets are on the other long wall. There are several lights above, three of them to keep patients warm and a brown metal folding chair all stuffed into this 9'X6' room. This is room I will occupy for the next week.

Danbury, Ct- Home of the Chinese Healing Arts Center and Master T.K. The Six-Day Qi Healer Intensive starts it he morning. I made it; it took nearly nine hours due to traffic tie-ups outside of D.C. and in Central Jersey. Entering NYC was not as congested as the other areas on the Interstates along the way.

On the Major Deegan Expressway, I met a really neat group of family and friends parked in a vehicle at service station. There were seven adults and one youth. They were going to Danbury front the City and offered to lead me here. They were excellent guides. Two of their daughters were really hot; at least I assume they were their daughters. When we got to Danbury, they typed in the address of my destination on their GPS and showed me the way here too! It is so refreshing to meet people like this, good folks having a good time on a trip to NYC from Boston. They were staying with friends who were traveling with them in Danbury. Folks love top put down people from his part of the country, but if find kindness and generosity here like everywhere else, maybe even more so. I suspect if I had nowhere to stay tonight, they would have offered to put me up for the night and made me breakfast in the morning. They are that kind if people. The fact that they were bilingual enough to communicate was helpful. They talked amongst themselves in Spanish and I was able to pick up only snippets of their conversations.

Now that I have settled in a little more, I notice there is a poster and painting on the walls. The poster says, "Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is the present. It is a gift". This is written in calligraphy cursive and the background is blueish-lavender with clouds. The oil painting on canvas, an original, is landscape of sunrise reflecting on a lake or river lined with old pine tress. I like the seagulls flying across the sun. The "bed" I am sitting on is not really a bed. It is a solid wood table with a mattress on top. After sleeping for two weeks on the floor with blankets underneath, this will be fine.

I almost was starting crying while pulled my van slowly out of Williamsburg earlier today. I do not know when or if I will return to there, or see Ashley and Valeria again. I already miss Ashley. Few people have touched me the way she has. I love her very much and am grateful for the experiences we shared together. It is so powerful when we are re-introduced to somebody from our tribe. The acknowledgement and connection are so deep and intimate. This is even greater when we are fortunate to remember from before we were who we are now. She does not yet recall, she will in time. I still maybe too soon for her.

When my van pulled onto I-64 west, I felt a little tremble in my throat and belly. The feeling we get when we are leaving something or somewhere that has great value to us. I did not allow myself to cry, not today. The sun was too bright, the temperature was to warm and I was listening to Natalie Merchant singing "Beloved Wife" cruising along with the windows open, knowing Reiki would come after passing through Richmond. No, not crying today. Today was a driving day and the day before the Six-Day Qi Healer Intensive. The teacher is leaving behind his new students for the opportunity to become student with new Teacher, Master T.K. is a Real Teacher, a Fifth Generation Qi Gong Grandmaster from Shanghai. I met him physically when I was here for weekend training back in October.

The tears are trying to come out. My throat is contracting slightly and my eyes are blinking, fighting off the salty water escaping my efforts to suppress them. Why am I experiencing such sadness when I think of her? Is it the connection? Maybe it is that I remembered who I really am, The True Self, when doing Reiki with her. Or possibly that she trusted and accepted me so, and thought of me, "Like how I had always hoped my father would be". Could it be the intensity if out friendship that is triggering such a reaction? Somehow I feel loss, but I also feel rejection. Somehow my brain turns any separation with females into rejection. Rejection of me as a man. There is one more potential cause to my emotional responses. Our relationship facilitated me finally letting go of some painful memories from my past that needed to be released and allow Forgiveness. Finally. It is not finally, it happened when i was ready. OK, one more, "one more", to throw into the mix; she is the kind of woman I have always dreamed about; smart, attractive, fun, honest, strong, independent, loving, caring, nurturing and vulnerable when ready.
Conclusion: I feel loss, rejection and ache in my heart because of ALL these things; it is not one or the other. It is (E): All of the above.

I met an interesting woman through the Couchsurfing project the other day whose username is Kimplicated. I love this name and her embracing of being a complicated person. I wrote her back and signed my name Michaelicated, to acknowledge her identity and relate. Like Kimplicated, I am a complicated person and often try to place things in nice little boxes, when they are really more complex. That is me- Michaelicated.

6:17 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Persian Red or Indian Textile
Category: Writing and Poetry

Persian Red. The label said "Indian textile" but for me, it is Persian Red. Decorated with blue and green little leaves, dark, almost Navy blue hearts and multi-colored crowns of lotus. But still Persian Red; the color of many great Islamic ceramic and mosaic dishes, bowls and vases; skullcaps worn by Sufis while dancing The Turn and the background cover of my first book of Rumi poems given to me with a flower in a glass jar by an ex-lover who thought I needed more Rumi in my life, she was correct. The book was Essential Rumi translated by Coleman Barks.

Jallaluddin Rumi. Mevlana. Of h Great Teacher of Mine, thank you. Thank you for your passion and desire. Thank you for your live and devotion. Thank you for your wisdom and knowledge. Your words are what I compare all other words next to. No wonder my words never reach the apex I fantasize about creating. And finally, than you for showing me how to dream and for showing up in my dreams. Your Presence when I am sitting in my chair in the morning is that of an old, welcomed Friend. Much like the Friend you used to write, sing and dance about.

Persian red. That is the color of my new writing book. It has a nice firm, solid cover with double-ringed, black spirals. The paper is soft and smooth; my pen is having a field day gliding across the faded charcoal lines. This is a good book for me to write in.

I bought it last month with a Barnes and Noble Gift Card I was given at a school training a year and a half ago. The problem with gift cards is my eyes are bigger than the amount they are designated for. I always end up spending more on my gift card than if I did not have one altogether. In this case, the gift card was $25 and I ended up spending $27 above the card amount. But, I did end up with this fabulous Persian Red notebook and books by Natalie Goldberg and Alice Walker, a book on writing that I have not gotten yet and Diane Ackerman's A Natural History of the Senses. It is sitting next to me right now leaning on my black book bag splattered across the old, wooden bench "we: are sitting on in Bicentennial Park. Just the title and looking at the succulent green leaves on the cover have aroused my senses enough to hear all the different varieties, to smell the cedar chips and fresh blooming flowers and enjoy the wilting branches with their leaves tickling the back of my neck head with every breeze that caresses them. Yep, this book is definitely in the on deck circle.

The on deck circle. I am glad to even have an on deck circle again. I am able to actually read again. Between the prescription reading glasses, focus and not working; reading has gently nudged itself back into my world. Lots of words. Written words have firmly rooted themselves right in front of me and said with conviction, "READ ME! I am here and you need me. Read me and write me. I am here and I am not going away!". So, written words are back into my circle of friends. Welcome back written words and welcome, my new Persian red notebook. May the next two hundred pages make you both proud.

6:39 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Inspiration Sources- Part II
Current mood: awake
Category: Life

I felt so good after writing Inspiration Sources, I needed to get up from the grated, green iron table at the University Center patio and walk around. The energy was bubbling up through me and I needed to do something with it. So I walked. I didn't know where I was walking to; I slowly and leisurely strolled along the red brick paths of the College of William and Mary. I took a moment to appreciate the lush green field of the Sunken Gardens. Was this the last time I will the Gardens before I leave town later this week? All the rain of the last 48 hours produced such a soft, warm feeling to the Gardens. At the far end, there was a white cloth "poster" spray-painted with the words "Make Love, Not War" hug on the brick wall outlining the Gardens. In the middle of the sign, was a large Peace Symbol. Underneath were paintings with bright, vivid colors on long rectangular wooden boards that were leaning against the same brick wall. I breathed in the idea of making a world of art. I felt full, full of Beauty. I noticed two young women lying on a blanket, on the wet green grass just off to the side of the sign and artwork. My total appreciation produced a chorus of giggled smiles. I continued walking on the very uneven red brick paths.

I crossed Richmond Rd to the island that intersects Richmond, Jamestown and S. Boundary Roads that have this amazing, vibrant flower garden. My first day here in Williamsburg, an older gentleman was putting in the flowers and the fragrant cedar chips in the bed. He did well. One can tell by his skin and eyes while that he it was hard work, work he enjoys and has for many years. But I don't get the sense it started out that way. I believe he got the job because he needed a job and people that have his color skin can't find decent jobs here in The South very easily. But he has grown to love his work with the soil, cedar chips, flowers, and watering- even though his back often hurts at night. He did good work- thoughtful, gentle and careful. These are traits of a great gardener. I should have said thank you to him that first day here for his work. I could tell then the fruits of his labor would produce a slice of heaven, they did. After one more acknowledgment of this work of art by man and Creator, I continued onto S. Boundary. "Make Love, Not War".

I then saw an attractive young woman walking in the same direction as me whom, I thought I recognized. Of course, they all look attractive to me. I need to get laid! We arrived at a street corner simultaneously and she warmly greeted me, "Hi!" I asked her where I knew her form with a slight suspicion I already knew. She said, "From Friday night." That is what I thought. She participated in a group meditation, visualization and discussion I facilitated on Friday night with a bunch of young activists after we had a potluck dinner. She was high on Friday night. This evening, sober and lighted by the still shining sun, she looked so much more attractive. She was wearing red lipstick on and it complimented her fare skin nicely. I wondered how old she was. She asked me if I was going to the art show at the Meridian Cafe? I said no, since I didn't even know about it. At this point we ere there; we walked in together. As soon as we entered the main room through front door, there she was, my Williamsburg Guardian Angel standing there beaming. She had just received Reiki Attunements and training earlier on Friday and we finished on Saturday afternoon. Radiant, alive and glowing- Reiki in flesh. She asked if we could talk outside on the front porch and I assured her we could as soon as I experienced the artwork being exhibited.

The art, although infuse with some depression and darkness, had some similar quality to my own work. It was amusing to see such common styles with such drastically different effects and results. He has the same way of relating to genitalia that I do. It would not surprise me has is not aware of it consciously when he creates these images. I was not till everybody started pointing it out to me. This experience was informative for me.

I joined W.G.A. on the front porch. We sat on the wooden hanging bench and we swung and talked of a while. She had Reiki questions and experiences to share. She is so alive right now; such vitality in her cheeks, rich smile and sparkling eyes that let me and anyone know that She Got It! We decided to walk for a bit as dusk was falling over us. We stopped to look at some brown and white spotted cows. The fragrance of cow manure tickled the senses; it is a smell I thoroughly enjoy. We leaned against the old beat-up wooden fence. When both ready, we finished our walk and sat on the steps of her front stoop. More red bricks; her house and steps. We were both glowing with the Divine Presence by reflecting in each other- sharing, mirroring and expanding together.

I am sitting in a booth with a nicely finished maple drinking decaf coffee at Sal's Restaurant. All day I was daydreaming about coming here to enjoy his eggplant parmigiana. I did, now I am finishing off the meal, the day and this piece with my blue Pilot Easy Touch pen, the last couple of pages in this book and a rich, dense cup of Italian decaf. Sometimes, the force of gratitude seems to great and powerful; I pass it on so someone else can remember why we are here too.

This olive green and tan hardcover spiraled notebook has been good for me. This is the pad that I began to leap and let my Voice speak. This notebook has done North Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, Philly, Jersey, upstate New York, jersey again, Pennsylvania again, a job interview in South Boston, VA and will be laid to rest here in Williamsburg- where Reiki has oozed out my pores in ways like never before. Yep, this is that notebook.

As I pass from one notebook to the next, I become aware of the passing on of inspiration from one mentor to student, who is also a mentor to others and passes that inspiration to a student. And so it goes, notebook to notebook, mentor to student an student to mentor.

Gratitude is contagious.

9:58 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Inspiration Sources- Part I
Current mood: thoughtful
Category: Religion and Philosophy

Inspiration Sources

I find it interesting what and how we get inspired. It often comes at times and ways we least expect it; at least for me.

Yesterday and most of today have been days of distraction and depression. I went through a few weeks of living at a high level of inspiration and focus. It included plenty of Reiki, writing and intimate connections with new friends. I knew at some point there would be an "adjustment" period. Often another adjustment or two follows this till I land at where I will stand, or my new homeostasis for a while. Yesterday and today were the first adjustment.

That was until I received a simple, but forceful email my mentor. We have not spoken or written much lately. This is not uncommon, since we do most of our work on another level anyway. But, it is still something I look forward to and greatly appreciate seventeen years or so later. She can inspire, motivate and guide me like no else. I am grateful for our relationship and shared history. I hope I can do the same for others, as she has done for me. Her commitment, courage and strength are barometers for me to gauge when reflecting on my own growth and development.

Just a simple, but not really simple email can do this for me. Knowing that we have that kind of support, acceptance and unconditional love does wonders for the Soul. That email, three paragraphs long facilitated the next adjustment. As my pendulum finds its current center, I will continue to enjoy the peace, happiness and joy I have been experiencing the last month or so. Just like misery, gratitude is contagious. I am glad I caught it.

If you are struggling, let me know and I will sneeze some gratitude in your direction, so that you too may catch it. And then maybe you can sneeze towards someone else.

got gratitude?

9:34 PM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Being one of Them
Category: Life

Being one of Them
Today I was a consumer. Not just normal Michael-type consumption; today I was one of them.

Typically for me, shopping consists of several visits to the local thrifts shops. It entails being open-minded enough to letting the store lead me toward the style I want, as opposed a pre-conceived notion of what "I need". Thrift shops serve many supportive functions. They are the original and most effective form of recycling I know of. Modern day recycling of glass, plastic, paper and cans, use more energy resources than producing new products. This gives us the illusion, an unspoken license to use, use, use, as long as we put the USED item in the city-recycling bin. So, I have a genuine appreciation for the real recycling that transpires at thrift shops.

Thrift shops are also an effective means of sweatshops. Simply put, if nothing new is sold, therefore, production goes down and the twelve year old who works eleven-hour days for one dollar will actually see his/her family that day. Less use, less abuse.

It is so much fun walking out of a thrift shop with an Old Navy or J. Crew pair of jeans for $2.99. It is my way of giving corporate America the finger. They will not get my money. My Soul is too precious, and I have worked too hard to reclaim it. It is no longer up for grabs, especially not for them. This is my way to let The Gap, Tommy Hilfiger, Nike, Wal-Mart, Kmart or any other mart feel the consequences of their actions; I am not for sale thank you!

No ownership. Thrift shops are typically not owned by anyone. There are the privately owned "vintage" shops, but they are a different breed that typically charges more for a lime green polyester sport coat from 1978 than you would pay for anew one-and a more attractive version too. I feel good about giving my money to no one. Mr. or Mrs. No One cannot do much cannot do much with the money I give them. In fact, they do the reverse, they hire people that typically not very employable or volunteers. And, they give their profits away. They actually give the money they make away to an organization or church or temple or something non-profit. For me, if there is no Co-op in town, this is how Michaels shop.

But not today. I tried the thrift shops in search of something specific to no avail. I tried to bend to meet the available selections but it really wasn't what I needed. So, I broke my rule and went into franchise/chain stores.

People like me do not do well in these kinds of stores. The music annoys me since I am not seventeen anymore. The fragrances offend me since I like the way humans actually smell, as well as air. The energy is sterile prostitution and the semi-dressed, twenty year old girls that haven't eaten since 2005 sales associates remind me of everything wrong with this country. Their pre-programmed smile, verbiage and perky demeanor smell of Hell- the place where Spirit and love are devoid. Corporate Hell. I visited C.H. today, willingly. The first sweet young thing with cleavage, midriff and the curves of the brim of her butt exposed was entertaining, even a little seductive in a sick kind of creep middle-aged guy kind of way. I mildly reciprocated her flirting for a brief moment. Then I said to myself, "OK, so these are not really what I wanted to buy, but she is really cute, friendly and attentive… maybe I need to be more flexible in my purchases." Then I noticed how tightly she was clutching her shiny, red cell phone for dear life and remembered how old I am, and NO; these are not what I need to buy- regardless of cleavage, midriff or butt-crack! After a few of these experiences replicated to varying degrees, I found a store that had what I was looking for and I bought it. I bought it knowing that a woman or child with their sweat made it in China and suffering on the sandals, even before I will wear them. Knowing that this corporate chain has put mom and pop shoe stores out of business all over the country. Knowing that I am now "one of them"- Corporate Consumer. I am almost was in tears when I left wearing my new Spalding sandals.

After further review, the replay shows indisputable evidence I AM NOT ONE OF THEM! I rode my beat-up, black Trek bike what ended up to be five or six miles to get there – I could have used my van. My shirt and shorts were bought at Savers last spring. I did not accept the temptation of BOGO just because I could. I put my old sandals in my canvas bag that a local grower at the Eastside farmers Market in Madison, WI gave me two seasons ago as a gift for being such a strong supporter of local growers and her. I do not need your plastic shopping bag, a second pair of footwear at half off or anything else. Eleven dollars. Brand new Spalding athletic sandals for eleven dollars. An incredible deal but at what cost to those whose sweat mixed with my while pedaling my bike in the hot Virginia sun?

I am not one of them
I am not one of them

Me and my Soul are not for sale. We are not on the open market.
WE ARE NOT FOR SALE ANYMORE!

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