Funerals are for the living

I have always said that funerals are for the living. So, I don't go unless I need to go for closure or I know the people the soul left behind need others around them for support. 
Some people share birthdays or deathdays on Facebook and remember the person who died. That is not for me. I feel all of my souls who have passed around me all the time. 
My feelings about death are different because I faced cancer at a young age and saw souls hovering around me while one of my feet was on the other side and one was on a very slippery banana peel. I KNOW what to expect because I have seen it.
I am not talking about the white light experience I am talking about paying attention to death as much as I pay attention to life. When my mother died I held her hand and as she let out her last bit of air a peace came over the room that one can only attribute to the freedom that death brings.
I have had souls visit me in dreams and felt them on me, almost taking my breath away, in their desperate need to tell their loved one a last thing that they wished they had said when they were here. I cannot conjure up these things they just happen. But I went to a psychic with a friend once and he described it as a wall of souls was about to crush him.
I never felt like that but one soul once in a while is enough for me to know that funerals are for the living, the dead are with us always.

Not Alone...my Shaman

A poem
       Not Alone, my Shaman
                          By
     Teena Vaughn D'Annibale

You hold his pain,
You hold their fear,
Cleanse.

You know you're strong,
You know no fear,
Cleanse.

The peace you seek is not your own,
The peace you seek is how we're born.
You have the power that you seek.
Within.
Cleanse.

See your heart and power.
Strong.
See your soul and vision.
True.
Seek what makes your power grow.
Seek what makes your vision clear.

The pain comes when you cannot bare, to let them see what you most fear.
To let them feel what hurt you so.
To let them cry so they can grow.

Rock the baby in the tree but when she falls you cannot see,
the destination worth the trip,
is one you must not interrupt.

Please let them fly.
Please let them fall.
For mended bones are twice as strong.
Your hands outstretched should never catch,
until the words from their own lips request,
your power must restrain to test,
how much the mended branch will strain.

You must let go to feel no pain and free your spirit for more gain.
To help the ones who truly need,
your soul must be truly freed.

You've known the fear.
You've known the pain.
It's why you seek to cleanse and gain,
the insight that you need to heal,
the days, the pain
the real.

Most look around and see the hurt and turn and say, "Just desserts."
No blame in you as you peek,
to see their soul is rot

with holes

life's acid has burned without remorse.
No going back, it cannot heal.
No going back they cannot feel.

Most think there is no hope to find.
You look for sand, you look for silk, for anything to block the hole,
to fill that void,
to ease the pain,
to cleanse the wounds that no one sees.
To cleanse the soul no one needs.
You search and see,
you fill and stitch,
you hold them close to give reprieve to pain so hidden no one sees.

And when you're done and they are healed the light of love is revealed.
Your only payment,
holding pain,
that was yours before,
but never again.

Not all can know this hurt,
a chosen few,
the chosen who
paid a price, with a life or lack thereof,
a forever sacrifice of love,
or hate,
or pride,
it matters not the reason for their fate
for with It they have willingly paid,
for us who are too afraid.

A society of broken souls,
they move through lives unnoticed, taught to hide their selves, "Be ONE."
For she is she and he is he but when together not "one" they are taught to be.

But when alone with no one else,
an army,
broken with no gun, but fear
of self...
lost,
forever ONE?

"NO!," you scream.
Your comrades hear.
"You are one AND ONE."
"Don't fear!"
"Our deeds and souls forever stained, can be healed, there's much to gain."

But you, my shaman, you must know
To soldier on you must grow.
"BE HEALED CHILD," I want to scream.

Or whisper

So your soul feels cleaned.

But I must heed my own advice and let your self heal many times, 
as broken bones can be more strong, so souls do as they limp along,
from pain inflicted for no gain, from pain not seen, not felt, in shame.
From pain I will never know, or feel or touch or cradle so,
as you have done for so very long.
To nurture as a mom, a futile feat, for this pain I shall never meet.

But you must Cleanse from other's guilt
To heal the many who have felt,
like you, my love, my life, my child,
my shaman, my world, or in a while
your soul will shrivel and die;
useless, lifeless, loveless;
forever only ONE
not
one.

So hold his pain.
So hold their fear.
But lifeless bodies roam no more,
YOUR passion here, where pain and fear are very real and some with breath are meant to heal, like you, my love, who suffered so others
can feel and heal,
and grow.

Be strong, shaman, your strength within
must be nurtured time and again.
Be strong, my soldier, who is now one,
and knows that ONE is never done but can be healed and strong again and hold the pain that never leaves to feel just like a gentle breeze.

There is love within us all
to sit beside the pain,
to catch us when we fall. But...
when it is too much to bare,
let the words escape your lips,
"I fear that I will fall and there will be nothing, no one to break my fall."

Your shaman will be there, my friend,
To hold your pain
To hold your fear
And
Cleanse.

The Perfect Mother, a poem. Happy Mother's Day

                                                            The Perfect Mother
                                                                       By
                                                          Teena Vaughn D'Annibale

Feelings of alienation, abandon and success sit on her soul. 

The solace are the young, still innocent, unaffected by ego. But that will not last long, and she will be alone again. 

 Blamed for every problem, rewarded for no success, or sacrifice.

No matter the choice or outcome she is perceived to have motives, and evil intent; trust issues and jealousy smother her twilight years. 

Respect is gone, replaced with disdain or "grinning and bearing" on their part. 

Preferences suggested, when none are present; equality has been her north star as a mother, working diligently on breaking the perception chains of the past, to no avail or success. 

Yet she is content and happy with her products, advertising them far and wide at every location and feels a great success.

A lifetime of work and dedication: stripped to make better with one, hope with another, replaced by women as it should be with two more. 

But none with the wisdom to see: the sacrifice, the dedication to learn how to do it right, the burning love that makes her soul ache with loneliness for her present and future.

Her only thought ever - them. 

With no regard for her life or personal goals she prioritized her hours, days and years for them without a thought, for they are her very breath and when glimpses were presented over time, over her life, for personal gain these successes, made of idols and dreams, were always eclipsed by the welfare of those she bore. 

These mock successes, were stained with hospital beds and battlegrounds, young heirs and brave pursuits beyond abilities and so discarded. 

However, the ultimate goal is reached. 

She, the success, sits alone in mind only, for she is smothered with bodies and souls who share her DNA, but few or none will hold her soul with care, refusing to show no regard for their own. 

Few reflections of her are willing to gently massage her ego, fears or feelings as gently as she held and massaged their's . 

The most success breeds the ones who need no one, 

not even her. 

And she smiles and cries at her brilliance at being a wonderful mother.

She looks in the mirror, alone, and smiles, knowing she succeeded in the quest so many years ago she set. 

Seeing no one behind her she faces, with pride, the product of the perfect mother.

Student loans and the cost of the "fun" college experience

Lately I hear so many 30 year olds complaining about their college debt. It's not fair, they say.  I shouldn't have to pay this much, they say. How am I supposed to survive?

All true and fair questions and we DO, as a nation, need to fix how we pay back those loans,  so they DO get paid back and not defaulted on. HOWEVER...

I think the anger and frustration is misplaced.  The cost of college is the real problem coupled with the idea that college is supposed to be fun. 
The reality is... in America we don't take college seriously.

Think of how little loan you would have if you worked all the time you weren't in a class or studying.
How much would you save if you walked or biked where you needed to go?

What if you didn't go to bars or eat out, lived home, stayed at the dorms on the weekend instead of driving home and worked a job?
Would you have the debt you have now if your behavior in college was different?

WHAT IF YOU DIDN'T GO TO FOOTBALL GAMES FOR 50 BUCKS (D1) A TICKET?

We need to change our behavior as students.

Parents need to change their behavior as enablers. Your children are ADULTS when they go to college.  Make sure you treat them that way. Make sure you let them fall and guide them on how to get up on their own. And make SURE, in their junior year of high school, you teach them about how much it costs to live and how to pay for it.

We need to change our mentality as consumers of college education as well.  Demand good service, go to community college where it is cheap and transfer to an online four year, this will cause the state system and private schools like Penn State to lower tuition costs.
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So I don't get mugged at work or the grocery store I need to clarify MY position on the biggest school in MY state.  MY blood is NOT blue...AND Penn State is state affiliated and NOT a state college so they get your tax dollars with little or no oversight from the state. Nor  does anyone hold them accountable for their actions and I do NOT agree with my tax dollars being spent that way. This has nothing to do with football.  I have always felt this way.  Ok, moving on...
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Lastly, lobby for more realistic tuition costs.  Complain when faculty union members refuse to bargain about their salary demands with the state.  When college presidents make half a million dollars,  live for free on campus,  build unneccesary dorms or sports facilities, practically bankrupting the school and then move on when the financial shit hits the fan have your board of directors hold them accountable! !  And YOU teach your children to hold the board members accountable.  They pay their salary.

Do colleges even teach their students how a college works? That should be a mandatory freshman class to empower the students.

Complain when the state ends up closing colleges in remote areas causing those kids to move or travel far distances to get an education.

People we are in crisis!
And some of it is our own fault.
Life is not a party, it's hard work that you have to pay for.
Those of you paying student loans need to change the system for your children and the future of our country.  Change the culture.  Start with YOUR child and YOURSELF!

And all of us need to be LOUD about it. It's our future.

Training dogs is a breeze...right Zuzu?

So, one might think training your dog is a grueling task but worth the time and energy. I think that daily, as I continue to tell our one year old Labradoodle, Zuzu, whose spirit animal is definitately the Dodo bird, to "sit," with every expectation that she will sit. But she never does. Her response to "sit" is to  run out the door, or lay with her belly up or jump with muddy feet on my work pants or bite her dog brother who is 12 and looks at me with the "what were you thinking" face. I definatly think to myself, this will all be worth it, she's young, put the time in now and it will pay off later. Then she leaps from the ground into the covered above ground pool in February, almost drowning, and forces me to lean into the dead leaf, gunky world of the top of a winterized pool cover to drag her sorry, dumb ass out of a watery grave and I think, "This is not worth it."

This is the same thing I used to think at work, "this will never work." But then it did.

I work with teenagers with severe autism and mental retardation and we use Verbal Behavior/Applied Behavioral Analysis. This is a program that has a fancy title and is an intense system based on years of research that is all about what every parent does all the time with their children...you tell your children that their world will get significantly better if they do what you want them to do and significantly worse if they do not.

The problem with autistic children is, a LOT of the time, they don't give a rat's ass what YOU think or how YOU feel. So, "that makes mommy sad." means nothing. "I love you" may mean nothing. "I am so proud of you" means nothing. What DOES mean something is...candy, or their favorite toy, or being left alone (many typical children and adults love this, by the way, including me), or pressure on their forehead. Those things are valuable to them. The trick is finding out what is of value to a person who has difficulty with social interaction and feelings. 

One doesn't realize how much we use "guilt and emotions" to get what we want in life until guilt and emotions no longer gets you what you want. We do things cuz we love someone or don't want them to feel sad. We want their approval and we want people to like us. So we behave in a way that will make that a more likely event. We smile, buy gifts, give high fives, draw pictures, give stickers.

We do all of this to make our world significantly better. But if I want a student to sit in their chair and they do not want to impress me or care what I think about them they are NOT going to sit in the chair.

The frustration is similar to me and my new puppy. I, apparently don't speak her language...YET. I will definately speak her language before I die or she kills me, because I refuse to give up trying.

It's the same with my students at school. I don't speak their language yet. I don't know what they want, what they are trying so desparately to tell me. I need to be patient and learn. Let them teach me. And when i have broken that barrier, broken their silence, their very loud silence, I will teach them. Because these kids are so smart and so funny and have so much potential locked inside of them. I CAN NOT WAIT to get it all out!!!

My dog on the other hand may be a hopeless case...time will tell.

"Zuzu, stop eating rocks ...Good Lord, help me!!!"

But it ain't lookin' good.

Restaurant review

So this weekend we went to Tilted Kilt. ..if you don't know it's the Scottish version of Hooters. This is my second visit to this restaurant and I cannot believe the number of people who bring their children there.
     Most of the kids just gawked in shock but one little guy, maybe 10 years old, who was trying to watch a basketball game made my day. The waitress's boobs kept getting in his way.  Now, depending on where you were sitting it either looked like he was trying to get a better look at her double Ds or possible trying to stick his face in them or watching basketball.  The waitress seemed tickled by his attention evidenced by the "how cute" look on her face, which is a little sick but that's another story,  until he said,  "Excuse me, mam, you're blocking the TV."
     The TV insult was bad enough but "MAM"....OMG, I about died laughing. 
     On the other end of the age spectrum my old man was feeling "sorry for these girls" and using who was "jiggly" and who wasn't as a way to tell which waitress was ours to order coffee, "since they didn't wear name tags."  
     As far as I could tell the only people in there who really appreciated their bodacious boobs and exposed cheeks were these two old lesbians who stayed a long time and I am guessing had a GREAT afternoon when they got home.
    Which brings me to my first visit to a Tilted Kilt. My oldest granddaughter was in a fashion show at a local mall. We didn't know what kind of restaurant the TK was and were distracted by her barrage of questions about modelling as we were being seated. As soon as the waitress came my daughter and I looked at eachother and then around the restaurant and before we coyld process the whole thing my granddaughter says,  "YOU are dressed like a hussy!"
    I guess that about sums it up. Food's good, beer is GIGANTIC and people watching is outa this world.  I highly recommend the Tilted Kilt, just don't bring your kids.

Come together ...right now... The Beatles were right

I have been doing an experiment for the last couple of weeks.  I am very liberal and very political. I have been private massaging people that I don't know on Facebook who have very different political opinions than I and asking then to come together. This is what I posted on my page, 

www.Facebook.com/ichoosetosee

with the hopes of getting others to try.

"To those of you who follow this page, I am trying to start a grassroots movement to help our country heal. Would you copy and paste this on a person's PM who thinks differently than you. See if we can start some real person to person dialog. ...

Hello, my name is Teena. I find you a well read conservative and I am trying to find some people on the "other side" , i am very liberal,  to help our country find common ground. I feel strongly that the inability of our citizens to value eachother's opinions WILL be our country's downfall because let's face it, presidents come and go ...citizens are always here. 
Anyway, would you be willing to take a look at my page and share some ideas you find sensible, even if you don't agree with them , if I would do the same for you. 
My page is I Choose to See on Facebook.  Just type it in the search.
If this isn't for you thanks for listening and thank you for being involved politically in our country."

I for one have struck out. Of ten people I PMd not one has agreed to my proposal and I have gotten some nasty comments about my beliefs that I would call less than tolerant and definitely not polite.

When did our country get to the point that two people can't have a civil conversation about civics and politics. Where did the "I respect your opinion and choose to disagree" attitude go?

Debate, when I was growing up was called "healthy" and people were admired for being good debaters. I took argumentation and debate as a class at SUNY Albany and it was not part of the Poli/sci curriculum, it was something educators felt necessary for life. It was good to great everyone's opinion and all the facts before you came to your own conclusion.  

People came together, minds were opened and changed sometimes and there was respect not rancor and hatred.

Please take part in my experiment in your life. Find someone who is not like you and find middle ground.  I fear if we cannot,  it will be the beginning of the end of our civilized democracy.