The Snap Diva Returns

Don't Forget to Breathe

2011-11-05T18:42:00.000-07:00

I have a post up on the website, Simple Answers for hearing and speech called, "Don't Forget to Breathe." http://www.hearingandspeech.net/dont_forget_to_breathe.html

My son's middle name is Mandela

2011-07-19T19:56:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was Nelson Mandela's 93rd birthday. President Mandela is one of my heroes, a man of incredible tenacity, dignity and compassion. Someone who transcended their situation while incarcerated for 27 years. A man who was able to lead South Africa from Apartheid to a multiracial society. A man who brought reconciliation and the promise of hope to an emerging democracy.

His namesake, my son, is 14 1/2 years old. He has had his own personal battles with mental health and learning differences. When I look deep into my son's eyes, I see incredible tenacity. He has had to do a lot of emotional growing over the last 2 yrs, changing his approach to anger and relationships. As the result of my son's work, he now has a positive relationship with me. He has been able to connect with his father and half siblings. Now he is learning the stories of his father's childhood in Northern Ethiopia and learning more about his culture.

Another incredible part of a journey of the impossible becoming possible.

When all else fails, a Black woman writes about hair:)

2011-02-21T17:13:00.000-08:00

Yup,

I haven't been blogging much lately. Twitter and Facebook have taken much of my Internet time. A trip to Puerto Rico for a month over the winter holidays diverted my focus. Details about my continued unemployment have also been a distraction. A few other obstacles have popped up- but going on would be TMI:)

I have been writing offline in bits and pieces with the nudging of writing workshops. Fragments are coming together.

I did submit a little comment about being happy to be nappy on MrsGrapevine's blog. The inspiration were "I love my Hair Sesame Street T-shirts." As a chocolate brown girl in the 60s I too had my issues about hair and how to wear it.

Here is the link, enjoy!

http://mrsgrapevine.com/2011/02/sesame-street-i-love-hair-t-shirt-daughters/

Big Mouth Recognition from Global Exchange...

2010-11-21T18:15:00.000-08:00

Last week, I was recognized by Global Exchange, People to People Blog, Giving Thanks Series. The acknowledgment was for my social media work re social change and justice.

Glad to be called a big mouth!

http://www.globalexchange.org/blogs/peopletopeople/2010/11/17/giving-thanks-part-3-big-mouths-deserve-big-thanks/

How to Cure- free write from A Sea of Prompts

2010-10-09T17:42:00.000-07:00

My writing instructor Stefanie Freele encouraged me to post this free-write. Blogger has been on the fritz all week. Glad I am finally able to post.

How to Cure

Thin your life neatly into short pieces. Keep some edges rough, some smooth. Season lightly with salty tears, pepper with wisdom. Toss in chopped hopes, filagreed dreams and secret wishes. Saute over a low flame. Let some pieces carmelize, others braise and a few soften. Lightly turn and spread over life rice. If a few pieces fall on the ground, no worries. There is always more to grow, to harvest to cook.

Remember it is good to save some in an open vessel to let the light and air keep it all fresh.

Eats well sometimes as snack, often as a meal. Great to nibble on after a long fast or a short nap.

Serves one well.

Enjoy!

Sonoma Scribes

2010-09-04T18:31:00.000-07:00

Today I attended the first Meet-up for Sonoma County Scribes,http://www.meetup.com/Sonoma-County-Scribes/ in Santa Rosa. I met a group of interesting writers working in diverse genres. All had a passion for writing.

Some of us shared our writing. I shared two poems in progress. Also managed to scribble down more short lines in my "Print" and "Writing Journals."

Excited that I have found a new group of friends who love words.

My favorite writing teacher, Stefanie Freele,http://www.stefaniefreele.com/ sent out announcements for her next writing workshop in October in Healdsburg. Workshop is called "A Sea of Prompts." I am ready for more nudging and inspiration to write.

Next week, going to Redwood Writers http://www.redwoodwriters.org.

Recipes and more coming soon!

NaBloPoMo

2010-09-03T11:00:00.000-07:00

Just found out that September is National Blog Posting Month http://www.nablopomo.com/ .
Also just noticed that my last blog posting was 7/15/10. Crap! Where does the time go?
I have been working on recipes, writing snips in my longhand journal and idea book (my writing teacher Stefanie Freele calls it a print book). Somehow nothing is getting onto my blog page.

Time to start... even if it is day 3:)

Oh Lawdy Mz Clawdy Apple Gingerbread

2010-07-15T12:57:00.000-07:00

Here is my long awaited recipe- story to follow

I just made a batch this morning for Susan (where I housesat the last 8 days), my significant other MC Drummer (formerly known as Sweet Honey Man) and Boyd owner of Santa Rosa Bad Ass Coffee Company (twitter name SantaRosaBACC)

OH LAWDY MZ CLAWDY! Apple Gingerbread

Makes two loaf pans of the most chewy delicious sweet bread to hit your palate.

Ingredients

2 cups hand grated fresh apples
3 inches hand grated ginger root (approx 1/8- 1/4 cup)
3 large eggs
3/4 cup canola or walnut oil
1 cup sugar
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
2 cups unbleached flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon ground cardamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg

Set oven to 325 F
Lightly oil/grease 2 loaf pans (I use spray canola or olive oil)

Grate ginger and apple- place in small bowl and mix- set aside

In another bowl beat eggs, sugar, oil and vanilla together set aside

In another bowl mix all dry ingredients- mix thoroughly! Add dry mixture to liquid mixture. Mix thoroughly. Add ginger and apple mixture to rest of ingredients- fold in but mix thoroughly.

Pour batter into two greased loaf pans. They will be about half full. Place loaf pans in center rack of oven. Cook for at least 45 minutes (some ovens take up to an hour). Bread is done when fork is clean when put into middle of bread. Take out of oven , cool on a rack.

Now get ready to say, Oh Lawdy Mz Clawdy! This bread makes a wonder breakfast bread- taste great with a bit of melted cheese or butter or jam. Cut it thicker to go with savory soups.

Eight Winds at Gale Force

2010-07-05T07:46:00.000-07:00

C-c-changes happening. So much so I have been neglecting my blog.

In April, completed the Women's Initiative Simple Steps program. I now have a formal business plan for my start up- Indigo Lotus Navigators. Indigo Lotus Navigators is a integrative health navigation and advocacy program for children/adolescents with special mental health care needs, behavioral problems and learning differences.

Three weeks ago I had nasal septum reconstruction surgery to repair my nose broken by my son 18 months ago. It is a revelation to be able to breathe through both nostrils. I have much less facial pain and headache-still a bit due to recalcitrant sinuses. It was an inside job- I am not a MJ wannabe. My singing voice has come back- nice to have a voice without the froggy muco sound:) I am also in the middle of physical therapy for my silly back. Amazing how the pyriformis muscle can misbehave. It brings a whole new meaning to PITA. I hope to be back to Tai chi, Escrima and dancin' very soon.

I am back to writing my memoir cookbook and will start posting a few vignettes/recipes. Oh Lawdy Mz Clawdy Apple Gingerbread will be the first entry.

Been domicile deficient of late- currently housesitting and looking for new digs in Northern Sonoma County. I had two days of homelessness last week- slept in my car one night, a church shelter the next. Thank goodness for Episcopalians and wonderful friends of choice. I much prefer staying in a space without wheels where one can take an afternoon fiesta.

Not so short human is doing well at his residential school. Basketball continues to be his favorite sport. Lately telling me he wants to become an EMT and a chef like Bobby Flay.

Significant other becoming less significant- we shall see if Sweet Honey Man gets a clue:)

From Nichiren:

"Worthy persons deserve to be called so because they are not carried away by the eight winds: prosperity, decline, disgrace, honor, praise, censure, suffering, and pleasure. They are neither elated by prosperity nor grieved by decline. The heavenly gods will surely protect one who is unbending before the eight winds. But if you nurse an unreasonable grudge against your lord, they will not protect you, not for all your prayers." Writings of Nichiren Daishonin, vol 1 page 794

Winter always turns to Spring

2010-03-20T15:51:00.000-07:00

"Those who believe in the Lotus Sutra are as if in winter, but winter always turns to spring. Never, from ancient times on, has anyone heard or seen of winter turning back to autumn. Nor have we ever heard of a believer in the Lotus Sutra who turned into an ordinary person. The sutra reads, 'If there are those who hear the Law, then not a one will fail to attain Buddhahood'"

Nichiren Daishonin, Winter Always turns to Spring- Writings of Nichiren Daishonin volume I page 536

I have heard this Gosho passage repeated to me over in over in times of trial and trouble throughout my 21+ years as a Nichiren practitioner. My initial response was an uh, huh, sure. The last 13 years when especially stressed, I would share with friends and seniors in faith that I was definitely experiencing a "nuclear winter" in my life. At times I felt my life stalling, moving sidewards and backwards...I didn't give up.

Well, spring has FINALLY come! Things started to gel in late January. I was able to find a wonderful residential school for my son to attend. He was able to leave juvenile hall after a 10 weeks stay (extended due to county employee furlough, district school vacation break and the usual many meetings that had to happen for placement to be approved). He is in an enriching learning and therapeutic environment not far from where I live. I can visit him and call him frequently.
He is testing limits- much like any other 13 yo but now having the support of many professionals 24/7.

The 19 month child support challenge by my son's father ended in February. I made the determination that I must see his dad as having a Buddha nature, to continually chant for his happiness and well-being. He agreed to pay for all back child support and reimbursed me for medical experiences. The best part is that he is back in our son's life. Yesterday he had his first visit with his son in over 7 years. Our son has only seen his dad twice before when he was 5 1/2. I was able to set up and support this visit with the help of my son's school clinician and house supervisor. It was a wonderful afternoon of basketball, video games and soccer for these two guys. My son's father also thanked me profusely. He plans to visit monthly.

So the my focus returns to my well-being and re-invention. I am finally insured via medi-cal so I am getting asthma care after 2 1/2 yrs of not having insurance. I was able to replace the glasses my son broke over a year ago. Sweet honey man and I are glowing and growing together.

With 6 weeks left of unemployment on my 1st extension, no child support coming in while my son is in residential school I know it is time to return to work. I have 1 month to go on the Simple Steps Business Course via the Women's Initiative (http://www.womensinitiative.org). I had to drop the course last fall due to my son's deterioration. I am now working on a 30 page business plan for an Integrative Health Navigator/Advocacy program for families with children/teens with mental health care and behavioral needs. A part of me also wants to return to clinical pediatrics- part time. My writing muse has returned. My creativity is flowing.

Amazing what can happen with building faith and confidence. My life today is truly Myo-Renge-Kyo.

An Experience I gave

2009-12-14T14:44:00.000-08:00

This is the English language version of an experience I gave at the December 12, 2009, Spanish Language meeting for the Redwood Coast Soka Gakkai Region:

Opening my heart for Kosen Rufu

Good morning! My name is Pierrette Mimi Poinsett. I have been practicing Nichiren Buddhism for 21 yrs. I am a WD group leader in East Petaluma District. I am a pediatrician by training, a developing writer of poetry, prose and satire. I am also a single mom of a 12 yo son named Joshua.

For many years, one of my most favorite gosho quotes has been:

More valuable than treasures in a storehouse are the treasures of the body, and the treasures of the heart are the most valuable of all. From the time you read this letter on, strive to accumulate the treasures of the heart! (WND-1, 851). Over the last year I have learned to live this Gosho quote.

In November, 2008, I attended the year end district meeting for Valley of the Moon District. We had an activity to create flags with our determinations. I selected two phrases; Love works and Open your heart.

My situation at that time was critical. My son and I had moved from Modesto to Petaluma in early 2006 after I had closed my failing pediatric solo practice. By February 2006 my son had his first psychotic break and first hospitalization for bipolar disorder, Tourette’s disorder and Absence Seizures. I was forced to resign from the job I had moved for. My Modesto home took 11 months to sell. By October 2008 I had to short sale a townhouse I had purchased in Petaluma.

By November 2008, we had been homeless for 6 weeks, finally moving into a rental townhome complex called Lakeville Resorts- the most unsafe part of Petaluma. After a series of many part time jobs in Petaluma- I had my last employment in medicine in May 2008. Desperate I took a job working as a part time Barista for Peet’s Coffee and Tea and collected partial unemployment. After a year of paperwork, I had been awarded child support from my son’s father- however he was not paying any ordered child support. My son had broken my nose in September 08- by that time having 5 psychiatric inpatient hospitalizations and was transferred to a non public school. My relationships with members and leaders in my district and chapter were difficult- I seemed to always be in some form of conflict.

With all these challenges, I resolved to show victory in my life. I was determined to expand my life and to elevate my life condition. I was determined to readily face my fundamental darkness and turn poison into medicine. I chose to meet these challenges by deepening my understanding of the oneness of mentor and disciple. I determined to daily read encouragement by President Ikeda and study the Gosho (letters written by Nichiren Daishonin to his followers). I made sure to read the newspapers and magazines as soon I received them in the mail.

I first turned to a passage from the Gosho-

Nevertheless, even though you chant and believe in Myoho-renge-kyo, if you think the Law is outside yourself, you are embracing not the Mystic Law but an inferior teaching (WND-1, 3)

Over and over, I was reminded by trusted friends and leaders in the practice, to seek the Gohonzon in myself. To actualize that my life was Myoho-renge-kyo, to have total appreciation for my life and to be ready to stand up and break through my obstacles.

I also chanted daily to not begrudge or disparage my life, my son’s life or my son’s father’s life.

With this determination, I began to see some improvement in my son. He stabilized and excelled academically in a non –public school. We were able to access 6 months of in home theraputic behavioral services, he continued to participate actively in Boys and Girls club. He even attended a few youth division activities, although he refused adamantly to chant. Our relationship at home continued to be erratic- rare moments of peace with Josh becoming increasingly defiant, being verbally abusive and episodes of violence, destroying my things and threatening to destroy my Gohonzon. I had to find times to chant when he was either asleep or away from the house as he did his best to distract me.

Money continued to be scarce. By July 09, I was fully unemployed. I had to go to food banks, borrow money from my parents as the court ordered child support continued to not come. Often we faced eviction from our townhouse. However we managed to stay in the same complex. This fall our complex was sold to a new owner- new name Enclave at Adobe Creek. Many significant improvements in the physical plant have been made. Our community is safer. We have quieter neighbors.

After many court continuances, I finally met my son’s father in court in August 09. I had not seen him in 7 yrs. I was astounded, I felt no anger towards him, no fear. I was neutral. I felt closure in our relationship after 13 yrs. At the end of August- the CA dept of child support seized his tax return and we were able to obtain 9 months of overdue child support. This made it possible to cover our expenses for three months, repair my car and pay off some bills.

Another amazing thing happened. The day after court, I received a phone call from Jose. Two years ago we had dated briefly but broke up due to his telling me he didn’t want a relationship and that my son had too many problems. I continued to send him e-mails letting him know how Josh and I were doing, we saw each other rarely at the community center barely saying hello. But I had chanted for Jose for 2 yrs since our break up. I found out later that he had been chanting for Josh and me for 2 yrs. We both had changed.

Jose asked me to come back to him. We agreed to try our relationship a day at a time. The difference this time is that we put the Gohonzon first, chanting Daimoku and doing gongyo together.

Jose’s support became priceless. I had be warned by several of Josh’s psychiatrists, his county mental health case manager I could not control my son’s violence and out of control behavior. Friends and family implored me to place my son in residential treatment. I was stubborn in thinking that only I could be his primary caregiver, that I needed to remain his Amazon Advocate. The consequences were giving up my medical career, being a hostage in my home and increasingly depressed. I continued to sustain many bruises, sprained wrists and hands. This was despite chanting abundant Daimoku- I was becoming more overwhelmed, exhausted and losing hope about my situation changing.

I deserved to be treated with respect, that no mother should be hit by her son, that I didn’t need to be fearful in my own home. He would chant with me, cook me special meals and tell me stories from his childhood about the loving relationship he had with his parents. He also shared many funny stories helping me to laugh down to my toes. I felt secure and safe with Jose.

It took many incidents with my son from August to the morning of November 16^th, when Josh attacked me with a Tennis racquet, many karate kicks to my abdomen. He was having his usual temper tantrum about refusing to take his morning medication before going to school. He was due to go to an evening intake meeting with Probation for a misdemeanor assault case from attacking a child at our complex. He never made it to school or the probation meeting, because I was able to stand up to him. I called the police. Josh was arrested and taken to Juvenile Hall. The police who came out were kind, disciplined and expert in community policing. I felt he was safe being taken into custody. He has been in Juvenile Hall for 4 weeks. His case is pending as psychological and psychiatric reports are ongoing. He has a great public defender. I feel confidence in the District Attorney on the case. So Josh has been deemed unsafe to come home- he is likely to be placed in some form of residential treatment.

For the first time in 4 yrs, I have not been afraid to go to sleep at night. I don’t have to lock my bedroom door or leave the lights on to protect myself from my son. I am feel confident that my son is getting the services he needs and will have the best placement possible. He has so many Shoten Zenjin- protective functions in the many people involved with his juvenile case, mental health program and school district.

I feel confident resuming my writing and medical careers. I now see my obstacles as a means to deepen my faith, develop more compassion and empathy with others. My relationships with members and leaders in my district and chapter are now warm and friendly. I feel at home for the first time in my local SGI organization.

I am determined to continue my human revolution with Gongyo and abundant Daimoku. I look forward to my developing relationship with Jose. I have found my soulmate and Kosen Rufu partner.

These words from Guidances for Celebrating Spiritual Independence by Daisaku Ikeda continue to encourage me:

“When you yourself stand with deep and invincible faith, you will be able to overcome everything, no matter what situation you find yourself in. You can be victorious in all things when you change , grow and take on responsibility. Everything boils down to you yourself.”

“To possess both wisdom and compassion is the heart of our human revolution. If you have wisdom alone and lack compassion, it will be a cold, perverse kind of wisdom. If you have compassion alone and lack wisdom, you won’t be able to save others. You are even likely to lead them in the wrong direction. You will also be unable to achieve your own happiness.”

Twittering will make you witty...

2009-06-25T08:31:00.000-07:00

I have been distracting myself lately with Twitter and Facebook. Just other names for Internet crack. Lots of fun - but I am finally writing more.
Amazing what 140 characters and pithy comments will do for your mind.

I will not raise my children to kill another mother's child

2009-05-10T15:20:00.000-07:00

I am just a mama who supported Codepink's Radical Act of Knitting by sending in hand knitted pink and green squares for the giant Whitehouse Cozy with the message, "I will not raise my children to kill another mother's child." It was an exhilarating experience to do the knitting in public in my community. Great teachable moments.

Today, I had Mother's Day Surprise. Myleftwing.com named me their Mother of the Year. They reprinted a piece on me titled, "The Coffeehouse Pediatrician" written by Hurricanedean and published in Broowaha an online citizen's newspaper, http://myleftwing.com/showDiary.do?diaryId=24859. In February, Rose-Anne Clermont wrote a piece about me called, "Living One Day at a time in Economic Crisis, the new face of the middle class" http://thewip.net/contributors/2009/02/living_one_day_at_a_time_in_th.html#more.

I know that my struggles are no different than countless other mothers globally who are single parents. I have the great fortune to have been well educated, formally and in community organizing. I hope I can continue to advocate for those who don't have a voice. My goal is to empower others to become Amazon Advocates for themselves, their families and their communities. Looking to continue to support, mentor and nurture.

A special shout out to my mother, Dr Norma Miller Poinsett who celebrated her 60th year anniversary of graduating from Tougaloo College. Her sisters celebrated with her: Merdis Henderson (60), Willette Lynn (57th) and Charetha Powell (50th). My cousin Lenice Lynn DDM, PhD is also a Tougaloo Alumnae who was present. Without the foresight of my WWII veteran uncles who persuaded my maternal grandfather, Chalmas Miller, to move his 11 children to the campus of Southern Christian Institute (a private high school for blacks in Mississippi that at the time had no public high school for blacks), this legacy would have never happen. I have many more relatives who attended Tougaloo and other colleges as well as many who never went beyond high school. All showed me by example the value of doing one's best, standing one's ground and fighting for what is right.

Doing for other's is just "rent" one pays for being on earth.

Onward,

Pierrette Mimi Poinsett aka the Snapdiva

4 juice glasses...not enough

2008-12-15T09:46:00.000-08:00

My son and I have been in transition over the last three months. October, the townhome I owned finally short saled after 4 months of walking through inches of paperwork with my lenders, the buyers lenders and snafus galore. Short sales are very complicated, designed to push one over the edge if not persistant. I am grateful that my home sold instead of foreclosed. I lived with recurring dreams of the sheriff coming one morning and putting my stuff on the street....

That has been the issue. We have way too much stuff. Ever since our move from Central Valley California to the North Bay, I have been in a massive downsizing mode. I grew up with parents who spent their childhoods in the depression. Folks who resused stuff, stored stuff like chipmunks. They always worried about a rainy day. Good for when you have storage space... not so good for smaller spaces.

I moved three years ago from a 1800 sq foot home in the Central Valley. My dream home with 24 windows, copious basement and garage storage space. Before moving, I had the requisite garage sale, gave away all sorts of stuff. Could barely fit everything into the moving van and my small SUV. We were moving into a 1500 sq foot rental before buying the 1300 square foot townhome. Both had built-in storage, AKA garages.

I knew that decluttering was a necessity. Did I really need 6 Feng Shui books on decluttering? Was every scrap of paper from my closed pediatric practice necessary? 12 boxes of books sold to the local used bookstore, many more books donated. Office supplies donated to community clinics in my town and overseas. The process of downsizing continued as my employment situation became more unstable. More bartering, more selling of furniture to make ends meet.

When we finally moved out of the townhouse in October, a 12 foot PODS and a 8 x 12 foot storage room held the bulk of our belongings. Dear friends opened their home to us so we had a place to stay for 5 weeks until finding a rental. I knew again that I STILL had too much stuff. Past travel to Japan and Germany reminded me that 'Mericans live in too large places with more stuff than families overseas. Every moment I thought about complaining about my "plight", I remembered that I could leave my home with more than the clothes on my back, without bullets flying and family intact. I have much to be grateful for.

Several years of watching, "Clean House" and "Clean Sweep" helped me to break through the denial of being a clutter diva. My hot mess needed transformation.
So as I am unpacking in our new 1000 foot sq rental (without garage), I am confronting reality.
How much stuff do we really need? How many things sit unused in my home that could be used by someone else?

I made a few severe choices-- decided that if we had fewer dishes and pots to clean, the sink would stay cleaner:) I gave away more than half of my kitchen, refrigerator and washer dryer to friends who helped us to pack and move. I made a bit of a strategic error. 4 juice cups.... probably not enough. I have had an epiphany. If I bring one thing in, two things have to go out.
Repair first rather than replace. Reuse and Recycle among friends and local community groups.

Feeling lighter already.... and my carpet is showing empty areas:)

Soccer Mama for Obama

2008-09-29T09:05:00.000-07:00

Time to put it out there!
With less than 5 weeks to the election, I have decided to make sure there is no confusion about where I am coming from.
No need for a disclaimer. I was born and raised in Chicago by activist parents who covered the Civil Rights and Black Power movements. My idea of fun was going to the local A + P to participate in a boycott to change discriminatory hiring practices, marching in Chicago and Mississippi. I was old enough to meet many of the powerhouses of the movement in my parent's living room and at many a hall.
For me, community activism is not a dirty word but what you do to pay rent for being on earth. In medical school, I was energized by the Harold Washington campaign for mayor of Chicago, I worked with my Latino grad school colleagues to forge a Black Latino alliance that was part of Washington's success. I immersed myself in the peace and solidarity movements of the eighties, stayed abreast of the Anti Apartheid movements.
At times I have "retired" from activism to focus on just making my local piece of the world a better place. Three years in the National Health Service Corps working with patients in need in Nevada and Central Valley California convinced me that I need not go overseas to find third world health conditions. Becoming a mother of a child with special health care needs has highlighted for me the failures of our educational and health care systems. Every child deserves to be cherished and nourished. No throw away kids. We must redirect our focus on coming together and giving a hand out to those in need.
So on the brink of turning 51 (October 3rd), I know it is time to stand up and be counted. My 11 year old said it best during the California Primary, "mama of course you are voting for Obama!"
Hope is not a dirty word; social change and bring diverse people together is not just a pipe dream.
Vote Obama, vote in your local elections. Don't stop the day after the election....
We need to keep on keepin' on...
I don't need no stinkin' lipstick.... but a manicure/pedicure and massage will do me just fine...

Saving the good stuff for submissions or....

2008-09-28T20:02:00.000-07:00

having massive writers block while experiencing a bit of life on life's terms.

Yes, it has been 9 months since writing on this blog. Many work changes- short term part time work, looking for full time work without success, filing for unemployment and medicaid for my son. Hearing more often than not, "you are a doctor, why are you unemployment."

My son has several chronic mental health problems. Psychiatric hospitalization number 4 during June of this year. Number 5 first two weeks of September. 2 and a half years of sorting out what he has, (bipolar disorder, Tourette's disorder and partial seizures with a bit of asthma). Spending much of my waking hours advocating for resources for school, after school and home, often settling for "hurry up and wait." I am making the hard decisions about residential placement as he is nearly 12 and increasingly out of control.

So, I have dabbled a little with my writing. One of my poems was published this fall in the 2008 Vintage Voices and Vines Anthology by the Redwood Writers Guild. I submitted an essay called, "I believe in coffee" to the NPR program, "This I Believe." It wasn't selected for reading, but was put on the NPR website.

I am hearing the several times weekly refrain from my bibliotherapist,Art, my sisterfriend, Aurora and several others to write, write, write.

Just letting y'all know, I have heard and am making that commitment! My stethoscope is a bit dusty since March 08. Gettin' that 'puter and pen warmed up.

Let the games begin!

It's a hair thing you wouldn't understand

2007-12-06T14:05:00.000-08:00

It ‘s a hair thing you wouldn’t understand….

I did the mama happy dance on Sunday when my son came through the door—he had a sleek short hair style like many NBA basketball stars—short fade that needs no maintenance. Just the day before he had left as a boy channeling buckwheat. Now I love my son’s curls but they had become a wild boy thing. He wanted braids—with his half Ethiopian Hair cornrows and his constant patting resulting in braids that had only lasted 2 weeks. 2 weeks for a 2 hour process of pain and tears—too expensive for a 10 year old head. So the compromise for a while was to let it grow for it to “hang down” as little man put it. Only problem is that it would get combed at best once a week. Non deliberate semi dreads… a virtual birds nest in the back of his head.

Now I love dreads, have many friends with dreads…. But dreads are not a simple thing. They require TLC and daily care that the short human wouldn’t cotton too. Per him, stuffing his head daily in his bike helmet was the prime reason he didn’t need to comb it. I thought a visit from Grandma would stimulate a little change. Surprise…. She liked it… other people liked it…
I thought we were doomed to a life of every which way hair that be a daily battle. Then something special happened. Cousin Dex said let’s have the short human come up for the weekend in Sacto. Now you must understand. We live in Petaluma—a gorgeous place but not exactly a nexus of African Americans. So few that I have let my hair grow out since I cannot find someone who can properly cut it. Short human’s favorite place in Sacto—The Kings and Queens Barbershop. A Shrine of great hair styles, wonderful conversation and…..many black folks. On his own without prompting the short human said, I want a hair cut momma. I just smiled.. no need to overreact. He might change his mind.
So Mr. Man came through the door a different boy. Gone were the wild curls, replaced with a more mature and cool look. Dex had treated him to a Sacramento Kings game and new threads. He was decked out.
Sometimes the best way to change your son’s hair is to let him make a choice….
Just a snapdiva happy to be nappy with her every which way hair pulled back in a short pony tail….more on my hair later…

It's been a long, long, time...

2007-11-30T20:07:00.000-08:00

Back staying in my own lane doing my personal blog. I have been distracted for several months blogging on a private on line physician community called Sermo. Sermo has about 30,000 MD's and DO's posting on just about everything from clinical cases, the future of medicine, politics even a few jokes. It has been helpful to me to stay current in medicine and break some of the isolation I feel practicing medicine only part time.

I continue to be called to my personal muses, the yayayarndiva and snapdiva. Ms Yaya is convinced that my life must be centered on yarn, knitting, crocheting. Balls of yarn appear from virtually nowhere, calling me with their seductive fibers. I had to do a major stash reduction to find some quick cash, but I see my stash returning. I have discovered yarn in resale shops and second hand shops. All sorts of gems that other yarndivas have given away. A few dear friends also gifting me with yarn. So now I a wonderful stash to make creative scarves, felted purses, baby hats and my new passion sachets. Just in time for the end of the year holiday season...

Ms Snap, now she is another story. Girlfriend wakes me up in the middle of the night. She is not speaking to me in dulcet tones. Rather the screech of WRITE, RIGHT now. I've have been ignoring her until lately. The anxiety, headaches and tummy pain have returned as a result. So I am back to giving in. Opening my laptop and pulling out my notebooks. I have found a Peet's Coffee nearby where I can write in relative peace. So I have been able to complete several lectures for my pediatric teaching. A chapter for a science fiction story came out of a stream of consciousness. I am in a Women's Buddhist monthly study group called Sophia. Now some of my writing is inspired from a commentary on the Lotus Sutra, "The Wisdom fo the Lotus Sutra, A discussion, Volume 1 by Daisaku Ikeda, Katsui Saito, Takanori Endo and Haruo Suda. This has stimulated a an endeavor to study Burton Watson's translation of the Lotus Sutra.

All timely stuff. I am due February 1st to give a grand rounds talk on Buddhism and Medicine at the residency program where I teach. However my memoir cookbook continues to percolate more in my brain than on paper. My "bibliotherapist", Art, a used bookstore manager, continues to cajole me to at least write for a half an hour every couple of days. The last several weeks have been crazy with work and my son's activities. The universe has created an out for me-- very little work in December.

So now I have no excuses but procrastination.

Time to boogie,

Dr. Mimi

Time to think purple

2007-06-01T14:41:00.000-07:00

I am a refugee from 12 years of living in the Central Valley of California (Modesto and Bakersfield). I moved a year ago with my son to the burg of Petaluma, California. I think of Petaluma as Mayberry with an edge. The interesting thing is that the movie "American Grafitti" by George Lucas was set in Modesto but filmed in Petaluma.

The biggest contrast between the two is the political landscape and the air quality. Modesto is a Republican, very Christian conservative place. Petaluma is far more quirky will all sorts of progressives a diversity of religions. The air in Modesto is smoggy, some of the worst in the country. Petaluma has wonderful air quality. Modesto has experienced a major population growth with the advent of the dreaded, "BATS" aka Bay Area Transplants. Petaluma has seen growth but the biggest change has been a demographic shift with more black and brown people living in the community.

Both cities share something. The red vs blue challenge. Gangs and violence have been ever present in Modesto. With the concentration of methamphetamine and one of the highest per capita car theft rates, it can be a dicey place to live. Petaluma is experiencing similar growing pains with increasing gang activity. Several recent attacks of people wearing red shirts by alleged gang members. All sorts of community outcry about rising violence.

After living in a community where I had to have a "house that talked" (an elaborate home alarm system), I have had a bit of difficulty seeing the sudden upturn. Petaluma is a considerably safer place than Modesto but there is definitely an undercurrent of resentment and polarization.
Keeping "Petaluma eggscentric" (as in small cute shops instead of big box stores), the outcry about public drinking in the tiny toney downtown at night have been a rallying cry of many.
The other big deal is the "east vs west". The west side is the tonier and older side of town. The east side is newer. The west side has the cute little shops. The east side has the bigger chain stores. The west side is not very diverse. The east side had people from all over the world, with more diversity in ethnicity and language.

As a relatively new Petaluman, I feel the polarization. As an African American, I have felt some of the "eggscentric" attitude. Some people with a veneer of a smile and underlying hostility. Fortunately I have met more people who are embracing, inclusive and friendly.

I feel the need for my burg to come together. To think purple. Purple is a combination of red and blue. We have the need to stop the red vs blue, eggscentric vs big boxer, east side vs west side polarization. Get past the "fiction" of explosive growth rather a dramatic demographic shift.

Purple is the color of recovery, royalty and enlightenment. We need to remember that we are "all on the same team/ somos un grupo unido." More consensus building. More hope, peace and reconciliation.

Time to "think purple."

Quick Check in

2007-05-28T01:11:00.000-07:00

I haven't disappeared. Just many things happening in my real life:) Job transitions, child challenges, meeting new friends.

I am still knitting and crocheting daily. Getting my act together to take photos of my work to share. I have to reload the batteries in my digital camera and have my wonderteen help me uploading photos.

Life is just a moment...

So enjoy it!

Best,

Dr. Mimi

On Nappy Heads and who are you anyway?

2007-04-17T20:12:00.000-07:00

It has been over a week, since the latest high profile loud last angry White male made a particular pronouncement about a group of Black women. "Nappy headed hos" with tattoos.

Oh Lawdy Miss Claudy. Now Imus is a fool, but a very wealthy one with many defenders from the "real journalistic profession." Hummph, he just said what a whole lot of people think on a regular basis.

There are many times I walk down the street in my burg getting interesting glances from others who don't look like me. At times I am in stores where folks decide their time is much more precious than mine (besides short Black women are invisible anyway) and decide they need to be served first. Sometimes the workers take the same tack. This happens more times than I really want to recall. I know despite degrees, a pack of credit cards and my Versace Bifocals, I am just another "nappy headed" fill in the blank. I don't have tattos, my clothes don't portray me as a hoochie mama. But I am one of those single mamas with a babydaddy who not doing the TCB.

Truth be told,I actually am nappy headed. This is in direct contrast to those lovely powerful young women who comprise that great basketball team (if only Imus had said, "they got game.") I finally got a gander of the sisters, beautiful braids with extensions, hair permed and pulled back, not a single wild nappy headed sister.

It's a touchy subject for me. Back in the fourth grade, I begged my parents for an Afro. This was the late 60's when people actually believed, "Black is Beautiful." Poets, singers and musicians created many ballads proclaiming the beauty of our people. Bushes grew on heads, fists hung from necklaces, folks changed their names and all sorts of "neo- African" traditions arose.

My parents made me wait a year before I cut cut off those pigtails. They knew there would be consequences. Mississippi grandparents that could barely speak in a civil tone because their "foolish granddaughter" cut off her "good=long" hair. Male barbers calling me little boy despite earrings in my ears. The ultimate test having my White classmates at my private school having to mash my hair daily to "see what it was like."

I had moments of backsliding to lyed, fried and to the side. Fleeting moments when I was finishing my pediatric residency in San Francisco. The nurses commented gleefully that my straight hair was more "friendly" than my short Afro. I relented a few years before with braids but couldn't handle losing hair on the sides of my heads. So for most of my 49 years my hair has been in its natural state, multi-textured and unbowed. I have grown to love my halo of gray. I earned every gray hair on my head and have no shame in showing them to all.

A year ago I moved to Petaluma, California. Beautiful vistas, lots of farms... and very few Black people. So few in fact that us sisters stop each other on the street to find out, "where do you get your hair done?" No decent place in my county that can be trusted with shears on this Black woman's head. The Bay Area is near but not convenient. So my wonderful nappy hair has grown into a woolly bun.

I love the texture and the wildness. Some days I think I am ready for braids. Other days I just oil, scrunch, wrap a ribbon, pick and go. No worries about it going back, no worries about whether it is friendly or not.

I know my younger and same age sisters have a really big issue with nappy. Looking at Essence and Oprah magazines, it is rare that a model has the real deal on her head. Usually some impossibly long (without the assistance of extensions), perfectly curly or hair in a color you know girlfriend wasn't born with. And then there are the impossible wighats. Having lived in crazy summer heat for the last 14 years, I have no desire to don one of these. Yes it is our prerogative to do what we want with our hair. But I think less is more. Let it be.

Snappin' to the left and right on this one!

Trimming down the clutter...

2007-04-08T21:45:00.000-07:00

Ah the beginning of spring break. Hearing the dulcet tones of my short human saying, "I'm bored" many times an hour. Bored 10 year old in the midst of lots of stuff (books, balls, games, friends, scooters, basketball hoop, bike, even I-pod, you get the drift).

It is a spring cleaning /reorganization weekend for me. I live in a townhouse subdivision that is having the siding replaced (crappy paper like stuff with concrete composite). Nothing can be drilled through the new siding or it will crack. Of course the townhouse I bought 9 months ago has all sorts of wiring drilled through the siding including the Satellite Dish. Dish going down Monday, not being put on a portable pole until Thursday. I can already hear the short human gasping, telling me "he will not have anything to do." I attempted to organize the house so that the contractors don't have to wade through mounds of papers/boxes (I've had two moves in one year, downsized from a 1400 sq foot office and a 1800 sq foot house into a 1300 sq foot two story townhouse thankfully with large bedrooms and a large 2 car garage).

I've been getting rid of stuff for the last year and a half. Amazing what one can accumulate in 10 years in Modesto. I spent a lot of time bringing civilization to my house in the form of books, projects and unusual toys for my son. Every time I think I have gotten rid of the bulk, stuff magically reappears and reforms. So know I am on a clutter diet. If something comes in the house, something similar and of like size must go out. I have to decide if I really need the stuff I have in the first place.

The biggest challenges are the papers from my office (still in disarray) and the yarn. Yarn that seems to take on a life of its own. Popping up in all sorts of places. I downsized a bags worth (gave it to a really sweet 10 year old who recently moved out of town). I am also on a yarn diet- finish a project before any new yarn can cross the threshold.

Every time I watch "Clean House" on Style , I have the incentive to clean. Now I shudder watching "House Hunters" on HGTV. Why does one human (or two or three) really need 1800 square feet? Why all the specialized rooms. Now that I have a boy, an au pair (I think of him as an adopted son with a really big allowance), a poodle and soon a chiuhahua (my au pair's) residing in 1300 sq feet, things feel cozy. My garden is less than a 10th of my former garden in Modesto. Now I can actually manage to keep it and enjoy it. I no longer have to fuss with a lawn in front- the HOA takes care of that.

I guess there is something to Feng shui. Clearing the clutter is helping my brain have the space to create, to be able to play and relax.

Back to clearing out my room...

Camping out on too many other people's blogs...

2007-04-07T02:19:00.000-07:00

Blogging is one of my favorite past times. I started in the Nichiren Buddhism realm 14 years ago. Then I branched out to political blogs and pediatric related blogs. My latest passion has been fiber/yarn/knitting/crocheting related blogs.

I've spent so much time on other peoples sites that I have forgotten my own. A dear friend who I call my "menopause coach" sat me down a couple of weeks ago. We had gotten to know each other in a local "jump start" writing workshop that we participated in for several months in 2007. She knew I had gotten all wound up in office politics at one of my contract positions. She admonished me that much of my frustration stemmed from my not writing. She reminded me of my determination to seriously write in 2007.

Yup, I have a habit of getting distracted. My rescue fairy occasionally pops out and I find myself trying to "solve other people's problems." I left that contract position three weeks ago, when I realized that contrary to what it seemed, I was working with adults. Adults who had the capacity to make choices albeit from my perspective some really bad ones:). I had spent so much time being a compassionate listener that I was taking on their stuff. Having learned to not cosign other peoples' Bullshit has been a part of my spiritual journey. I reassessed my situation, determined that I had done my work to the best of my ability, provided consultation (I work as a consultant). The powers that be had no investment in following those suggestions or making changes. So I realized that it was time to go and grow.

Within 24 hours, the stress melted off my body. The wheezing stopped temporarily. Even my 10 year old short human seemed easier to live with. I finally found the breathing space to be me.

So the last two weeks have been a time of healing, catching a really bad cold and finding more work. As I edge towards 50, I have noticed that the work world has changed dramatically. Employers favoring independent contractors and consultants, not so thrilled about hiring ahem older workers with benefits. So I am creating my own benefit package. I had my own private solo pediatric practice in Modesto for 6 years before I moved to Petaluma a year ago. I had the luxury of flexible time as a single mom, but the nightmare of not enough money coming in to pay for my staff, supplies or myself. So now I seek out work that lets me focus on my strengths (clinical work, public health consulting) and lets others deal with the yucky details.

Once my wonderteen Au Pair returns from his Spring Break, I plan to add more links and pictures. Amazing how 19 year olds (even my 10 year old) can traverse the Internet and do all sorts of cool stuff.

Just remembering that if I don't know how to do something, just ask:)

Best,

Dr. Mimi the Snap Diva
also a yayayarndiva