one person's criticism sends me to the moon

here's the deal.

i'm raising dragons
they scream and rumble and fly
off of furniture and into bodies
they demand and purr and
burn

i'm raising tigers
they nap and claw and snarl
over food and playthings
they lick with rough tongues
wetly

i'm raising hapa kids
who will have strength and wisdom to face
racist
sexist
assumptions of everyone around them with
resilience and humor

they will SNARL
they with RUMBLE
they will DEMAND

they will look into those boxes
you want to shove them in

and they will burn them.

they will say
NAH

which is what I say to you.

goals

"An extremely awake 2/3 is someone whose generosity is so continuous and so genuine that it seems to be an inseparable part of the personality. Never is there even the tiniest hint that anything is expected in return -- in fact, extremely advanced 2/3 sometimes becomes so good at giving that the recipient never finds out where the help came from (or even that it has happened). 2/3 saints somehow encourage the universe to shower gifts on others. Generosity comes through them, not from them."

more SFD forever

today i did pretty well. Actually got through a lot of laundry. I didn't hate on myself as much as i have been for the past year. I've been rumbling with things-- with my shame about RWF in particular. I spoke with Jon the other night and it was so wonderful to see how shocked he was at the things i've been telling myself. i cried, i was honest, and he really comforted me. i saw that he doesn't blame me, and that was surprising.

but it's still in there, the voice. it still whispers at me, even on the good days. it's the voice that says, you're doing good, today. today is good. despite it all. despite what you've done. despite how you've fucked up your family and your finances.

how am i rumbling? this is the real question. a session on Monday. processing with Jon. Facing what's really happening. getting clear on what's actually happening--

getting curious. noticing what's real, and what it's really about.

quieting the voices that make up all the stories.

my mission statement

to lead my life in the present with discipline, love and compassion in service to my community, family and partner.

EDIT: to lead my life with confidence and clear boundaries in the present moment with discipine, love and compassion in service to my family, partner and community.

mother, daughter, partner, niece, business comrade, anti racist, activist, leader.

i need a rudder. something to remind me where and how i'm going.

this should help.

more sfd. this might be the thing

forever.

right now i feel like jon doesn't want me to take care of myself. i'm feeling resentful, a little bit. he works so much and can't do a whole lot else and i feel like he just wants me to suffer too.

i'm telling myself this story, that i might not ever accomplish anything. that i'm too broken, that i'll never have the time or the drive to make it happen. that i'll just be lazy and stuck and fucked up and fat and ugly and getting so old every day.

and that i don't have the energy to have the discipline. that without discipline-- which i've never had anyway-- i will just keep us in the loop of mediocrity, depending on others, mired in debt.

basically, i'm a piece of shit. a mediocre, addicted piece of shit. i can't stop watching shitty tv to dull the pain and the angry voices in my head. i can't focus. i can't i can't i can't i can't.

getting curious about these feelings---
where do they come from?
- EC sexual abuse
- general sexism
- failure at RWF
- class oppression/capitalism. failure to win in a system i hate.
- sizeism/parent oppression!!!!!

the shitty first draft

that i've been telling myself this past year, it's so well run in my head its so far past a first draft, it's like a well worn trail in the deep dark woods of my brain i've walked it so often, obsessively.

basically, after rwc, i feel totally incompetent. lacking integrity. i feel like i've so completely compromised myself i don't know how to get back, and that this story i've told everyone about how i was trying to right the ship... i know i was, but i was also so deep with the kids and trying to stay above water with the basic finances, i know that i wasn't doing everything i should. i didn't try hard enough. i didn't force the issue. i didn't do enough. i allowed other people to run over me. and it's not the first time.

and i am telling myself that I'm an awful parent. i really am. i hurt fina yesterday with my words. and i couldn't stop myself. and i feel so much shame and embarrassment and fear, i don't want her to hate herself and feel shameful because i lost my shit yesterday. twice. i just couldn't handle life. i couldn't handle being a parent. i hated myself. and inside i feel like i hate myself more for it. and how do i help her with the shame i've given her??? how do i help her discharge?? i'm just such a piece of shit. i wish i could be a better mom, a better friend to her. someone she could count on, that she didn't have to tiptoe around. i can't be a time bomb for her i need to be dependable. but no one has been able to depend on me.

no one has been able to depend on me, i'm basically a piece of shit. the story that i've made up-- my deepest, darkest story about myself-- is that i'm totally worthless. i got my family into the business and i allowed the business to fail. i'm a shitty alcoholic that has exposed her kids to awful behaviors. the story that i've made up about myself is that i've ruined everythign and shown everyone what a piece of shit i am and there's no way back, and even if I try i'm still going to be a totally shitty parent.

this is the story i've made up. i desperately don't want it to be true. but i'm so afraid that it is. and i'm so ashamed of myself and what i've done.

the most important thing i need to do is find and keep my center. because i've been knocked down to the ground, and i need to RISE. Rise stronger, better than I was before. and that is going to take some serious self-reflection, and probably more sacrifice.

ok so now, how do i rumble this?? gotta wade in, somehow, to this horrible dark stuff.

It's been a long, difficult year. and honestly i've lost myself some along the way-- gotten stuck in a mire of shoulds and self doubt that sometimes becomes more than just toxic. It's positively eroding me. I'm diving into brené brown in an effort to find strategies to uncover myself, to reform these shitty asshole voices driving me down, and honestly making me do shitty things to the people i love best. so this is my shitty first draft, where i put down all the shitty things i think of myself right now and how it impacts my behavior. Awesome.

I lost my shit yesterday with Fina and i'm terrified that I shamed her. i am stuck in this loop of self hate and annoyance, and things are heightened again since Jimmy died. i really loved him. i didn't go to the memorial. and that really hurts. i should have gone. really, i feel like i'm a shithead asshole who doesn't care about her loved ones. and then i hurt Fina because i'm so fucking exhausted from a week of sickness and sleepless nights and guests and huge dinners in my tiny house and etc.

white supremacists and military colonialism

it's getting hot in the belly of the beast.

tiki torches wielded by nazis
while the US offers Guam up on a platter

a sacrifice for international experiments
about north korean power.

it's not a quiet rise
these white men
awkward
pale men

he stands behind a podium
threatening folks
thousands
hundreds of thousands
brown people of the pacific

while subtly
not so subtly patting the
backs of his
awkward brethren

who killed
a woman
in the name of their
nazi work

his podium
hiding his
incontinence.

incompetence

so when we talk about

reaching out to white supremacist folks, saving the souls of white people, bringing each other into multiracial movements. This is critical, this is an important statement. BUT.

there is a HUGE gap between our thinking, our writing, and our action. What does it really mean to get out there, to have a conversation with someone with DEEPLY different beliefs, and work to bring them along to your perspective?? What does it look like to dig deep, put yourself aside, and really fucking listen to shit that tears your heart out? Find those niches, the little places in someone's perspective, to get a handhold and open up a crack of doubt for that person, a place to let some new thinking in? How many of us really put ourselves on the line to make that happen?

how many of us are scared to go talk to a nazi?

i am. i've talked to nazis. in the depths of fucking fresno, i've knocked on nazi doors and looked a nazi in the face and worked to bring them into the union. i was scared shitless. but i did it. because everyone fucking belongs in the union. i didn't want to do it again.

i'm scared of violence. i'm scared of their guns and their fists and their hatred. i'm fucking scared. but you know what going to jail taught me, getting chased by security guards taught me, talking to scary people taught me? that I WILL SURVIVE IT, partially because I'M FUCKING WHITE.

where are we, white organizers? what are we putting out there? how are we putting ourselves on the line to end white supremacy? what is the bootcamp for us? the union was my bootcamp. my lead was a white socialist anti-racist. my coworkers were intersectional organizers. i was fucking blessed to be at UHW-West. It made me a better person, mostly.

let's do a bootcamp, ya'll. let's get serious with outreach to each other. it's not just rural organizing. it's door to door in our neighborhoods. it's in our workplaces. it's in our schools, colleges. let's expect a lot from each other. let's push each other, want to be the best at turning nazis into not nazis.

militant organizations committed to ending white supremacy.

living with a

wounded heart. i don't think I ever believed that life could be so deeply fraught. There is something deeply terrifying about now. i cannot imagine what will happen, as I could never have imagined what has happened. in any way. it's all a confusion of shock. we know we cannot predict, but we cannot be prepared for the shock of life, as it comes at you, unexpected.

i am so aware now that I have not been living my life. i've been here, kind of, in and out in a sort of fugue state. i cope with whatever i can. anything but substances. i've been able to at least stay sober.

and at least I can see it now. i carry lots of guilt. i carry so much guilt and sorrow and loss about this. there is also relief, though it is fleeting.

i know, in my gut, that we are blessed to not be in the situation anymore. we can get out with bankruptcy. we will move on, we are moving on. what they do i cannot even contemplate. i try to keep it from my mind. i try to keep them from my mind.

and everything else. everything else. melting. cooling. heating. flooding. fires. too much to list. and two children to wonder if they'll have a future.

how can i focus on the debt, the simple debt, when this is what we truly face?

get it off your plate. especially the ugly stuff. just do it quickly and move on.

the most important thing i can do now is think well about what is truly happening here. how can i apply positive mental health habits and be a better person? today was not a day i was proud of. i was short with my children.

i need to be reflective, and honest with myself. the first step is writing every night. being reflective on each day. so that the next can be better than the last.

i'm realizing

that somehow along the way here, perhaps after two pregnancies, and in the midst of raising these beautiful youngsters, my children and my business, i lost my drive. i got sunk. i got in deep to my suffering, and i've been living there for a long, long time.

and now that I can see it, i'm done.

and i'm mainlining what i need. i wish i could believe that old mechanisms could help me re-order this disorder of my life; i wish i could take that time. but i have to decide that NOW, this moment, i am done. I will notice my favorite way to suffer and i will allow it to pass me by.

I am dedicated to living in a beautiful state.

i'm working on

seeing the positive in all situations. i've been stuck in a negative rut for.... years? maybe? and it has really sucked.

when i die, i don't want my thoughts to be: why didn't I allow myself to be happy?

why did I drag myself through the mud every single day?

why couldn't I enjoy putting my children to sleep, one on each arm, singing songs to soothe them?

I want to believe that I put the best spin on life, regardless of how much money was in the bank. regardless of other people's feelings-- about money or otherwise.

the differences

are palpable.

working class responses are not usually measured, even. we scream, we rant, we kick and we rumble. we are loudly outraged. unless we have been broken.

yes, sure, i have been broken, but my shards cut still. i'm not done. i can still get up.

and when i get up i'll still be yelling. you may not like yelling. does it grate on your ears, make you worry something might be wrong? does violence violate your genteel sensibilities? are you worried that violence will not accomplish the goal, will alienate the opponent?

who are we, then? are we negotiating while people die? are we pleading at the bargaining table with folks bleeding out under the boss' heel?

i cannot help you, friend. i believe in helping others get to the place of understanding our demands, using love to help them see. BUT. they are shooting people in their cars in front of their children; gunning people down while they try to earn an extra dollar to put food in their kids mouth.

but i can't be calm and measured in this historical moment, with these circumstances. we must, as organizers, use the urgency of the moment, the rage of US, the sadness and the helplessness, to offer an opportunity to put hands and arms and mind and muscles to the ending of this violent, scared white supremacy. let's not encourage people to be calm, let's encourage people to take their anger and their fear and take ACTION.

now is not a time for calm, now is a time to FIGHT.

and don't get me wrong. we need the cops. ON OUR SIDE, FIGHTING. Those who stay on the other side can get what they get as the tide rolls in.

why create

something new when something old fits the purpose.

2016. So many years. I feel so old. And today so worn out. I can't figure out who I am anymore, in the tumult of everyone else, in the aether of my children and my business, it's just me reacting hoping doing cleaning loving raging. I read in a novel recently that if you don't know what you're going to do, you could do anything. this could be both very scary and very hopeful-- i worry, though, that for me it could just be scary.

how, though, do I predetermine my reactions?

perhaps, not react. learn to calm the inside and manage from my heart. i have been realizing lately that my working class upbringing is very difficult. it's angry and it's scared and it's dragging me through the mud and it's so hard to defeat, i can't be the measured sweet proactive person that maybe it's easier for middle class people to manage, i'm so close to the edge of not dragging us all through safely that i just want to scream, holler, throw things, and sometimes i do. and i feel like a complete failure as a mom. i feel like i'm doing to them what was done to me. maybe even worse, because i'm my dad and my mom all rolled into one, the darkness and the depression and the addiction, and i feel so guilty and overwhelmed and alone.

i'm not saying i don't try, because i really do. sometimes i can feel proud of who i am. it's just that lately i look at my daughter and i see how much she needs me and i feel numb and incapable.

so there's that.

it's been over a year

I suppose. So much has changed in that time.

Last April I was in San Francisco, dealing with the impacts of the trusteeship. Working my ass off. Fresno hadn't even come down the pike; it was strictly California Pacific Medical Center. Jon and I were struggling to stay together. On the upside, I was in SF. And I had a wonderful sense of purpose.

Now, the sense of purpose remains, but everything else has changed. Jon and I moved to Guam in January. Guam and San Francisco couldn't be more different. Probably the only similarity is the Phillipino population and the fact that I am still organizing. Or at lease attempting to.

Jon is different, happier. I am different, also happier. I guess I'll take a few entries to fill in the gaps. hmm.

i dont suppose

that i will ever live a calm life. at least it doesnt seem like it right now. i'm not given to doing the "right thing," or the "acceptable thing," i do what i think is right and acceptable to me. and i'm not given to feeling guilty, other than when my members guilt me for not completing petty tasks. this ends up creating a fair amount of drama, in my life and the lives of the people around me. i am a walking soap opera.

i suppose that if i just de-drama everything, then it's almost as though these decisions are value-less. they cease to matter. it's like my awkwardness theory-- if you don't think it's dramatic, and you don't engage with other's manifestation of drama, then it can't be drama. just staying centered and calm about everything seems like a better option.

so what am i saying? does it matter if i hurt people, if i don't care about it? what truly matters? what defines the "moral"? what defines "right"? Is it simply a fleeting perception of hurt or righteousness? I'm not sure. Everyone in the world is wandering around with such a similar yet unique set of hurts, affecting the way they percieve how people behave around them. there is almost a pure unreason of it all, an irrationality with which people percieve and judge and get hurt. It almost amounts to a massive clusterfuck-- bound together with the edicts of the overarching institutions of religion and law, projecting a hegemonic idea of morality for us to be righteously indignant about when it's violated.

argh. fuck it if it makes no sense at all.

ok so

i've been pretty trapped in my burnout for a while now, and while i have not really emerged from that burnout at all, i am feeling a strange excitement for fighting this fight today. feelings like this have to be acknowledged, due to their infrequency. really what i want is to not be encased in fear any more, and to have energy and purpose for this struggle. Earlier this week i was almost dying. Maybe because it's saturday I feel better-- or maybe because I have plans to spend time with non-union folks today.

honestly, that always helps.

turns out

that it's true. it's hard to write, but it is so much harder to not write.

the truth

is that i'm broken right now. there's no real reason for it, other than the obvious. perhaps i simply don't have the stamina and commitment anymore. maybe i just can't take the pressure. or i have just gotten old. i don't know. what i do know, is that this past year has made a mess of me, and the last two months have... regressed me. panicked me. squashed me. scared the living shit out of me.

the truth is that i have only been functioning in two modes: WORK and layingarounddoingnothing. either i GET UP EARLY AND GO TO THE HOSPITAL AND STAY THERE ALL DAY AND WORK WORK WORK or i layinmybedwatchingtelevisionreadingbooksmasturbatingdoingnothing. but more and more it's my inclination to do the latter. when i think about going to the hospital each morning all i feel is dread. all i feel is aversion. all i feel is hopelessness.

the truth is that maybe i was never really into my job anyway. or maybe i was just on the edge of being really good and competent and ready to feel good about the whole thing when THE BIG THING HAPPENED and i had to quit and do it for free, this time not just fighting the boss but fighting another union, too. jeez. this has all been a real adrenaline drain.

and through all of those feelings, I LOVE MY MEMBERS. they can be mean and crazy and wierd and i love them. it's hard to keep a handle on all of them, but in the end, they are loyal and loving and mean and crazy and totally committed to this project. i just hope that i can hold on long enough to see them through it.

i am

feeling insane. advice sometimes hangs on decision like weights, dragging them down further into indecisive oblivion. some days happiness seems like my due, and others i am sopping wet with other people's expectations and perceptions.

it's true, i don't know what to do. i don't know if i can do this for the rest of my life. my love is expansive for him, but is it enough? is there enough here to build a working life?

fuck it. don't take advice from people who can't seem to have a successful relationship to save their life.