Monday, December 14, 2009

An Experience I gave

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 16th, 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.”


Thursday, June 25, 2009

Twittering will make you witty...

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.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

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

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

Monday, December 15, 2008

4 juice glasses...not enough

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:)

Monday, September 29, 2008

Soccer Mama for Obama

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...

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Saving the good stuff for submissions or....

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!

Thursday, December 6, 2007

It's a hair thing you wouldn't understand

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…