(I wrote this song April 28th, 2012)
"Love casts out all fears....Surrendering to God is not passive resignation, fatalism or an excuse for laziness. God often calls people to do battle on his behalf."
I just read those sentences in a chapter I'm doing a book report on the book, The Purpose Driven Life.
I've been working on writing it for a bit now and decided I would work on writing my blog instead. God knows I haven't been lazy lately. I'm tired. It's a good kind of tired.
Life has been bitter sweet. I can't believe the things that seem to be going my way lately. I am still surrounded by chaos in a stressful environment, but, since I am working really hard, being completely honest, grateful and trying to remain in a complete state of surrender, life seems to be turning around.
I guess it started last Friday morning. I think I wrote about it, but basically, it was a mental hell.
Self Will ended up leaving CityTeam because he refused to peal carrots. I hope this man finds peace - he needs it. I don't mean this mean mean-heartedly (is that a word?), but I don't miss him. I will pray for him. He was given a lot of grace in this program.
I finally got off the evening shift Friday. It was hard work. I did it for a month. Self Will got mad and complained after three days so they put him on morning shift. The next new guy, who is 64 got moved after three days because he is 64. The last guy to come in is also in his 60's has only been here for three days, but we just found out today we are going to be closed for remodeling this week so his shift won't be too hard. He'll only have to do dishes for the guys in the house. That's God's doing. God knows I'll work hard. So does everyone here. God expects it. So does everyone here. Those who have been given much, much will be expected.
Now, instead of working or being in class or groups from 8:00AM until 8:00PM, I work from 6:00AM until 3:30PM. Big difference! Hopefully I have time to transcribe three notebooks worth of writing onto my computer! CityTeam also wants me to get to Module 2 as soon as possible so I can be the van driver.
 |
| The three FULL notebooks! |
Of the seventeen guys currently in the program here, two of us have a license. Right now, I am AM cook. I cook breakfast and lunch for 25 to 30 people. I don’t mind it. I’m not a great cook, but I’ll do it.
I think my becoming the driver is God Will working in my favor. I love driving - especially in big cities. My dad always used to brag how his son was driving around New York, Chicago and Miami from the time I was sixteen. I’ll be driving all over the Bay Area picking up donations. The California highways suck, but I’ll still love driving them. At least it’s not LA. I guess I’ll go back and forth from San Jose to San Francisco a lot. 101 can be nightmare. So can I-80, 280, 380, 480, 580, 680, 238 (which really should be 780 for only reasons dorks like me would understand) 880 and 980 - you get the picture. Again, it beats The 5, 10, 105, 405, 210, 710, 605....LA.
I finally got a free weekend and got to go out and take photos on Saturday and Sunday - my passion. I really felt like I was getting my soul back. I have written about the messages I get in the side walk. I saw this one Sunday after church.
Unbelievably, I have been happy. I also saw these two "messages" on an old RV next to the chalk writing on the sidewalk.
 |
| Maybe not anymore |
 |
| Gratefully! |
Over the past year when I was homeless and “insane“, Susan always used to say, “I wish peace for you.”
Saturday, I saw an important one on the corner of 7th and Minna, where Susan and I lived for eight years:
I’ve been trusting God a lot lately. A few weeks ago, I wrote about my GA situation and how my worker refused to even meet with me. I really had no idea how to handle that situation. People told me to “talk to her supervisor” or gave me some other advice on how to handle it. I really didn’t want to ask someone from the program to sit there with me for three hours for nothing like before, so I figured I’d wait to deal with it when I got off restriction.
Susan told me, “You got a letter from GA, they assigned you a new GA worker.” I didn’t even ask GA or God for that, but I hoped this new worker might be willing to at least be more willing to meet with me. I left her a message last week. She called me today and agreed to meet with me this afternoon!
During that half hour I told one of my old friends I met at MSC South who just moved here from New York about CityTeam. He’s an alcoholic. He’s been sober for 2 weeks. I told him to stop by this weekend. I told him it would be a great time to start since were remodeling and he would not have to dishes for the guests! He’s going to consider it.
My GA worker was very nice and says she has a client at CityTeam. I was court ordered to get on GA. They saw what a pathetic homeless tweaker I was and wanted to help. Now I can start paying my way overdue college loan and my storage space. I can also start paying my program fee at CityTeam which is 25% of my income which will be $362 per month.
I might even try to get back one of my guitars tomorrow. Tomorrow is May 1st. The timing of everything is just right. It’s not like I sat back and did absolutely nothing, but most of what I did involved prayer and surrender.
Another amazing thing happened Friday - the first day I was “really off restriction.” Susan gave me the keys to her apartment so I could let Phil out! I also started typing my blog onto the computer. It was nice she trusted me. It felt weird being there clean and divorced. My head was clean for the first time in a long time there. My head was mixed with emotions - especially when I saw her valentines day card from her boyfriend. I shouldn’t have, but I read it. It sounds like he really cares about her. Susan deserves this. She is a sweet person. I still want to be with her sometimes, but I know better. It’s probably best for both of us that we’re not together.
Although I believe I will stay clean, there is probably less than a 5% someone like me (an addict) will. It was unhealthy for both of us.
Susan has told me that, out of compassion, she used to wish I’d die. So did I. My addiction was that horrific. I was gone, yet this horrifically sick and insane entity seemed to occupy my skeleton of a body. My fear became - just how horrific my possible afterlife might be - nightmarish. If it's even close to what the evil voices promised me - I want nothing to do with it. Fire and brimstone might be a picnic compared to where I "was told" I was heading.
I'm so glad I'm clean. I'm still messed up. A couple of Sundays ago, I began praying to God that I would die. I, of course, wanted to die doing his work - by doing photojournalism in some 3rd world country or helping someone on 6th Street or at least something nobel. I've always wanted to photograph some 3rd world or even 5th world country - like Africa. Perhaps that's my calling.
I just felt like I could not bear this life for a long time. I never thought I'd live this long. I'm very manic still. No matter what I want, I pray for God's Will these days.
So far, God's Will has helped me. It doesn't mean it won't hurt me some day. I guess I'm thinking of Susan's departure again. That's actually is going to happen as a result of my will run riot. I get confused. Confusion is not good.
I love Susan, but, I believe she is better off without me. No matter how I feel, Susan's will is what really matters. She doesn't want to be with me anymore. She's getting along fine without me. When I was out there, I was gone. That's the way she saw it.
Susan wants to be with her family in Cincinnati some day. I also want that for her. Her boyfriend lives in Cincinnati. She's always wanted a house and a normal relationship. I tried, but failed. I want her to be happy. I want God's will for her - not mine. I trust God's will is best for both of us - whatever that may be.
Susan and I were talking about God the other day. She said, "That's another fundamental difference between us." She did say she viewed herself and Good Orderly Direction as her higher power. This made me feel really good inside. It beat atheism. However, some of my favorite people are atheist. They too see strive to be better people who do the right thing. I think God appreciates that.
I pray I can serve a bigger purpose. I was supposed to be a good husband. I failed. God's given me another chance to be something. I could have died many times. We had a pastor here recently talking about how sometimes God takes us for our sins. Sometimes God takes us for him. As I prayed to die (or be killed I guess) last week - that's kind of what I hoped for. That's probably a cop out. That's not how I feel now. I'm enjoying life, but I'm not afraid to die for the right reasons.
Did I say how beautiful San Francisco was this weekend? Oh yeah, speaking of death, it occurs just about every day on 6th Street. Unfortunately, not in such a noble way. As my friend who is helping me work my 12 step program said to me, "You are on the front line." We even sleep on Army cots!
It's not that violent, but, people do get beat up a lot. I got pistol whipped in 2006. I was really messed up about three months after my dad died. I was stupidly trying to sell pot in the middle of the night on 6th street instead of waiting until the sun rose and selling it in The Haight. I wanted to get high on my drug. There were three of them. One of them punched me when I wasn't looking, so I, of course ran. I was really weak and he was much faster. He caught me and pulled a gun on me and said "Don't make me pop you!" I said the most sensible thing a person could have said with a gun pointed at them, "F_ _ _ YOU!". I "woke up" on the ground with no pot and blood pouring out of my forehead. I finally went to the emergency room the next day, but it was too late for stitches - Susan's butterflies would have to do.
I don't want to go into the craziness right now, but I had a dark shadowy figure that scared the crap out of me in the corner of my apartment basically warning me not to leave earlier that night. I even told Susan about it.
I cleaned up for four months and started writing something called, Beaty's Babbling Brain Blog. I wanted my reality to come from the horses mouth. I also believed i would never use again.
Last week this guys forehead was pouring with blood in the bathroom. We had six cops inside CityTeam. We also had college student volunteers from Indiana. I asked one of the young ladies what she thought of San Francisco. She replied, "Scary!" I explained to her, she was on Sixth Street.
This street is really crazy, but it's not nearly as crazy as it was when I was using. Back then, it felt like an outdoor insane asylum. I'm not the least bit afraid here. Hefe Grande always says to me, "El diablo (the devil) knows you are strong." I guess I can give a little credit to el diablo. Hell on earth kind of made me this way. It's nothing to be proud of.
We get what seems to be a daily reminder of just how dangerous using drugs can be. Very often, we have the coroners van on 6th Street. Saturday was no exception. It seems the coroner is usually here for people overdosing in pee*-in-the sink (*I'd rather use the other word, but the director, Jonathon was just trying to encourage us to use better language) hotels 0n Sixth Street.
That's the last thing I want is to be found with a needle hanging out of my arm. Saturday, I saw a photo opportunity that really spoke to me.
I lived on Minna for 8 years. I know that while on earth, if I don't walk one way - with God, who is in control, I'll end up in this van. I've always said "Da Arts" communicate with me.
Did I mention it was a beautiful weekend? It was. Saturday, I went to the needle exchange down the road on 6th Street. I learned I was HIV negative. I learned I was Hep C negative a couple of months ago. I don’t want to tell the story, because insanely enough, if I do it may make me want to use. Let’s just say it involved a syringe that I realized had someone's fresh blood on it AFTER I used it. I found out later the next morning that person was HIV and HEP C person. Those vague thoughts of doing that to myself creates craving for me. The evil in me never gives up.
That happened three months ago. The people at the needle exchange told me that was a long enough window and I was fine. I’ve heard six months. I’m sure I’ll get tested in three months anyway. I hate getting needles in my arm these days. Something always followed that sensation. ENOUGH. (I wrote this a couple of months ago, but I don’t even like typing this today!)
Lets change the subject. I quit smoking. It’s been 17 days. As long as I never shoot speed again, I’ll never smoke again.
Since we are remodeling, we are closed for dinner. After my breakfast and lunch shifts cooking, I spent my afternoon on scaffolding preparing the room to paint tomorrow. About 2 weeks ago during our 2 hour Monday cleaning time, I thought, “This place needs to be painted”. Careful what you wish for! It’s actually good experience. It’s nice to be someone who is not afraid of heights - because of my run through hell I guess. I used to climb huge cliffs with loose rocks above the Ocean at Lands End in the middle of the night tweaking. Stupid. I’m glad I could get up and help with the high ceiling.
6TH Street may be a crazy street, but there is a lot of love here. Not just by CityTeam, there are in fact those in the hood who love those in the hood. I’m glad I can help the community in which I struggled for so long. “Don’t tell me this town ain’t got no heart. You just gotta poke around.”
(And that’s the last of the transcribing from notebook paper! Halleluiah!)
Saturday, I saw an important one on the corner of 7th and Minna, where Susan and I lived for eight years:
I’ve been trusting God a lot lately. A few weeks ago, I wrote about my GA situation and how my worker refused to even meet with me. I really had no idea how to handle that situation. People told me to “talk to her supervisor” or gave me some other advice on how to handle it. I really didn’t want to ask someone from the program to sit there with me for three hours for nothing like before, so I figured I’d wait to deal with it when I got off restriction.
Susan told me, “You got a letter from GA, they assigned you a new GA worker.” I didn’t even ask GA or God for that, but I hoped this new worker might be willing to at least be more willing to meet with me. I left her a message last week. She called me today and agreed to meet with me this afternoon!
During that half hour I told one of my old friends I met at MSC South who just moved here from New York about CityTeam. He’s an alcoholic. He’s been sober for 2 weeks. I told him to stop by this weekend. I told him it would be a great time to start since were remodeling and he would not have to dishes for the guests! He’s going to consider it.
My GA worker was very nice and says she has a client at CityTeam. I was court ordered to get on GA. They saw what a pathetic homeless tweaker I was and wanted to help. Now I can start paying my way overdue college loan and my storage space. I can also start paying my program fee at CityTeam which is 25% of my income which will be $362 per month.
I might even try to get back one of my guitars tomorrow. Tomorrow is May 1st. The timing of everything is just right. It’s not like I sat back and did absolutely nothing, but most of what I did involved prayer and surrender.
Another amazing thing happened Friday - the first day I was “really off restriction.” Susan gave me the keys to her apartment so I could let Phil out! I also started typing my blog onto the computer. It was nice she trusted me. It felt weird being there clean and divorced. My head was clean for the first time in a long time there. My head was mixed with emotions - especially when I saw her valentines day card from her boyfriend. I shouldn’t have, but I read it. It sounds like he really cares about her. Susan deserves this. She is a sweet person. I still want to be with her sometimes, but I know better. It’s probably best for both of us that we’re not together.
Although I believe I will stay clean, there is probably less than a 5% someone like me (an addict) will. It was unhealthy for both of us.
Susan has told me that, out of compassion, she used to wish I’d die. So did I. My addiction was that horrific. I was gone, yet this horrifically sick and insane entity seemed to occupy my skeleton of a body. My fear became - just how horrific my possible afterlife might be - nightmarish. If it's even close to what the evil voices promised me - I want nothing to do with it. Fire and brimstone might be a picnic compared to where I "was told" I was heading.
I'm so glad I'm clean. I'm still messed up. A couple of Sundays ago, I began praying to God that I would die. I, of course, wanted to die doing his work - by doing photojournalism in some 3rd world country or helping someone on 6th Street or at least something nobel. I've always wanted to photograph some 3rd world or even 5th world country - like Africa. Perhaps that's my calling.
I just felt like I could not bear this life for a long time. I never thought I'd live this long. I'm very manic still. No matter what I want, I pray for God's Will these days.
So far, God's Will has helped me. It doesn't mean it won't hurt me some day. I guess I'm thinking of Susan's departure again. That's actually is going to happen as a result of my will run riot. I get confused. Confusion is not good.
I love Susan, but, I believe she is better off without me. No matter how I feel, Susan's will is what really matters. She doesn't want to be with me anymore. She's getting along fine without me. When I was out there, I was gone. That's the way she saw it.
Susan wants to be with her family in Cincinnati some day. I also want that for her. Her boyfriend lives in Cincinnati. She's always wanted a house and a normal relationship. I tried, but failed. I want her to be happy. I want God's will for her - not mine. I trust God's will is best for both of us - whatever that may be.
Susan and I were talking about God the other day. She said, "That's another fundamental difference between us." She did say she viewed herself and Good Orderly Direction as her higher power. This made me feel really good inside. It beat atheism. However, some of my favorite people are atheist. They too see strive to be better people who do the right thing. I think God appreciates that.
I pray I can serve a bigger purpose. I was supposed to be a good husband. I failed. God's given me another chance to be something. I could have died many times. We had a pastor here recently talking about how sometimes God takes us for our sins. Sometimes God takes us for him. As I prayed to die (or be killed I guess) last week - that's kind of what I hoped for. That's probably a cop out. That's not how I feel now. I'm enjoying life, but I'm not afraid to die for the right reasons.
Did I say how beautiful San Francisco was this weekend? Oh yeah, speaking of death, it occurs just about every day on 6th Street. Unfortunately, not in such a noble way. As my friend who is helping me work my 12 step program said to me, "You are on the front line." We even sleep on Army cots!
It's not that violent, but, people do get beat up a lot. I got pistol whipped in 2006. I was really messed up about three months after my dad died. I was stupidly trying to sell pot in the middle of the night on 6th street instead of waiting until the sun rose and selling it in The Haight. I wanted to get high on my drug. There were three of them. One of them punched me when I wasn't looking, so I, of course ran. I was really weak and he was much faster. He caught me and pulled a gun on me and said "Don't make me pop you!" I said the most sensible thing a person could have said with a gun pointed at them, "F_ _ _ YOU!". I "woke up" on the ground with no pot and blood pouring out of my forehead. I finally went to the emergency room the next day, but it was too late for stitches - Susan's butterflies would have to do.
I don't want to go into the craziness right now, but I had a dark shadowy figure that scared the crap out of me in the corner of my apartment basically warning me not to leave earlier that night. I even told Susan about it.
I cleaned up for four months and started writing something called, Beaty's Babbling Brain Blog. I wanted my reality to come from the horses mouth. I also believed i would never use again.
Last week this guys forehead was pouring with blood in the bathroom. We had six cops inside CityTeam. We also had college student volunteers from Indiana. I asked one of the young ladies what she thought of San Francisco. She replied, "Scary!" I explained to her, she was on Sixth Street.
This street is really crazy, but it's not nearly as crazy as it was when I was using. Back then, it felt like an outdoor insane asylum. I'm not the least bit afraid here. Hefe Grande always says to me, "El diablo (the devil) knows you are strong." I guess I can give a little credit to el diablo. Hell on earth kind of made me this way. It's nothing to be proud of.
We get what seems to be a daily reminder of just how dangerous using drugs can be. Very often, we have the coroners van on 6th Street. Saturday was no exception. It seems the coroner is usually here for people overdosing in pee*-in-the sink (*I'd rather use the other word, but the director, Jonathon was just trying to encourage us to use better language) hotels 0n Sixth Street.
That's the last thing I want is to be found with a needle hanging out of my arm. Saturday, I saw a photo opportunity that really spoke to me.
I lived on Minna for 8 years. I know that while on earth, if I don't walk one way - with God, who is in control, I'll end up in this van. I've always said "Da Arts" communicate with me.
 |
| I had no idea when I took this photo and wrote this blog, but the black man who I interpreted to be God, was actually the 64 year old guy in the program. He worked at The Rose Hotel when they painted that mural on the side of it. They used his profile. He has a powerful Bible name. One day I was walking him to Walgreens since he was on restriction. He told me he was really struggling. He had told me before how that it was him on the painting. I shared how I interpreted him to be God. He said, the character was not supposed to be God, but God's messenger perhaps. It was for me. He relapsed that night. He comes to our Monday night recovery meeting and seems to be trying to stay clean still. |
That happened three months ago. The people at the needle exchange told me that was a long enough window and I was fine. I’ve heard six months. I’m sure I’ll get tested in three months anyway. I hate getting needles in my arm these days. Something always followed that sensation. ENOUGH. (I wrote this a couple of months ago, but I don’t even like typing this today!)
"The waiting is the hardest part."
Lets change the subject. I quit smoking. It’s been 17 days. As long as I never shoot speed again, I’ll never smoke again.
Since we are remodeling, we are closed for dinner. After my breakfast and lunch shifts cooking, I spent my afternoon on scaffolding preparing the room to paint tomorrow. About 2 weeks ago during our 2 hour Monday cleaning time, I thought, “This place needs to be painted”. Careful what you wish for! It’s actually good experience. It’s nice to be someone who is not afraid of heights - because of my run through hell I guess. I used to climb huge cliffs with loose rocks above the Ocean at Lands End in the middle of the night tweaking. Stupid. I’m glad I could get up and help with the high ceiling.
6TH Street may be a crazy street, but there is a lot of love here. Not just by CityTeam, there are in fact those in the hood who love those in the hood. I’m glad I can help the community in which I struggled for so long. “Don’t tell me this town ain’t got no heart. You just gotta poke around.”
You tell me this town aint got no heart. well, well, well, you can never tell.
The sunny side of the street is dark. well, well, well, you can never tell.
Maybe thats cause its midnight, in the dark of the moon besides.
Maybe the dark is from your eyes, maybe the dark is from your eyes,
Maybe the dark is from your eyes, maybe the dark is from your eyes,
Maybe the dark is from your eyes, maybe the dark is from your eyes,
You know you got such dark eyes!
Nothin shakin on shakedown street. used to be the heart of town.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart. you just gotta poke around.
You think youve seen this town clear through.
Well, well, well, you can never tell.
Nothin here that could intrest you. well, well, well, you can never tell.
Its not because you missed out on the thing that we had to start.
Maybe you had too much too fast. maybe you had too much too fast.
Maybe you had too much too fast. maybe you had too much too fast.
Maybe you had too much too fast. maybe you had too much too fast.
Or just over played your part.
Nothin shakin on shakedown street. used to be the heart of town.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart. you just gotta poke around.
Since Im passing your way today. well, well, well, you can never tell.
I just stopped in cause I want to say, well, well, well, you can never tell.
I recall your darkness when it crackled like a thundercloud.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
When I can hear it beat out loud!
Nothin shakin on shakedown street. used to be the heart of town.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart. you just gotta poke around.
The sunny side of the street is dark. well, well, well, you can never tell.
Maybe thats cause its midnight, in the dark of the moon besides.
Maybe the dark is from your eyes, maybe the dark is from your eyes,
Maybe the dark is from your eyes, maybe the dark is from your eyes,
Maybe the dark is from your eyes, maybe the dark is from your eyes,
You know you got such dark eyes!
Nothin shakin on shakedown street. used to be the heart of town.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart. you just gotta poke around.
You think youve seen this town clear through.
Well, well, well, you can never tell.
Nothin here that could intrest you. well, well, well, you can never tell.
Its not because you missed out on the thing that we had to start.
Maybe you had too much too fast. maybe you had too much too fast.
Maybe you had too much too fast. maybe you had too much too fast.
Maybe you had too much too fast. maybe you had too much too fast.
Or just over played your part.
Nothin shakin on shakedown street. used to be the heart of town.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart. you just gotta poke around.
Since Im passing your way today. well, well, well, you can never tell.
I just stopped in cause I want to say, well, well, well, you can never tell.
I recall your darkness when it crackled like a thundercloud.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
When I can hear it beat out loud!
Nothin shakin on shakedown street. used to be the heart of town.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart. you just gotta poke around.
(And that’s the last of the transcribing from notebook paper! Halleluiah!)
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