Today I am thankful for my hometown.
I grew up in a small suburb on the outskirts of Denver.
Back in the day, this town was mostly farmland. My neighbor to the east raised chickens. There was a stable in my backyard. A rancher lived to the west of us.
A local boy told me not to pee on the rancher's electric fence.
I'm female....until he warned me, I never thought about it.
I lived about a few miles from the original Jolly Rancher factory.
One of my first jobs involved saddle making. I was a cowgirl. I knew the rancher and his wife who told me stories about the cinnamon sticks she made.
I also learned what a jolly rancher was....
oh my.....
Growing up, it never dawned on me that the structure in the backyard was designed for horses. For me, it was a place to practice my woodwinds away from the ears of other people.
*****
My very first hypnosis practice was in this small town. I rented an office in the pharmacy/card shop that my first love and I used to frequent - the place he bought me stuffed animals - and blushed - and flirted.......
It was memory filled. I jumped at the chance to rent the tiny office where the old pharmacist used to work.
I loved it. I had so many memories of Tom. They were all pleasant.
I remember drinking hot chocolate with him huddled in the doorway back in '86. In the winter, I'd smile when I locked up.
It was nice.
Then my ex-husband's family started stalking me. It started with things going missing out of my office. Then I'd walk outside and find pictures of myself strewn in the courtyard. Then I'd be watched by two very obese people. The male grabbed at me on the street.
This wasn't a big deal until he barged into the billing clerk's office and went through her things demanding to know where I went to church.
She was rattled.
I was rattled.
I closed my practice and ran for office hoping that by the time my political adventure was over, the stalking would be a thing of the past.
It got worse.
I stopped visiting friends and family. I went into hiding. Then the stalking started to pick up at the house.
I wasn't safe anywhere.
So, I started a new practice in an ultra cheap office in the business district close to my home. This enables me to do a lot of pro se hypnosis.
I offer Groupons - which is an adventure in and of itself. Some Groupon people ask for the craziest things. I'll leave it at that for now.
Right now, my practice advertising is word of mouth. I used to command $150 an hour. Now, I typically charge $35 because the people who are referred to me tend to be people who have lost all hope and are ill. These are the people who have lost a lot, their jobs or their health.
It's all good. This is temporary. I can live like this for now.
I have to hide.
There was a time when I got cocky and bought a domain in my name. I use an expensive web host so it hasn't been hacked yet. My business Google account was hacked last week.
This is getting old. It really is.
Some judge let this drag on a little bit more.....so I continue to work 70 hours a week. I teach sales skills 40 hours per week and do hypnosis as much as I can.
Typically I hypnotize the sales staff......but that's a secret.
I'm looking for a new job some type of social justice warrior gig....maybe in a non-profit somewhere.
I think the gig found me.
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The past four hypnosis clients have been from my home town.
This means that they drive an hour each way to get to my office.
An hour.
One of them asked me to go back to visit the little church across the street from my former office. She told me that I'd be angry when I got there.
So.....I went.
I wasn't angry so much as I was broken hearted.
About a block away from my former office sits a little Christian church called The Rising.
I remember seeing their wifi signal when I booted up my computer back in the day.
There were homeless people on the lawn.
There were police hanging about.
It was strange.
I need to go back with socks, gift cards and bottled water.
I asked my ex if I could clean the clothes he outgrew and give them to the church.
He said I could. I think I should wait until after he leaves.
*********************
I've been there twice this week.
I don't know what to think or what to do.
I originally went to say a prayer for a birthday boy. I know it's stupid. I have a spot where I go to pray. I can't wish anyone a happy birthday in real life.....with my retinue of hackers and nut jobs.....so I just break twigs and pray.
It's stupid.
It was cold. I wore a wool cape that looks like it belongs to a Druid.
I sat in the cold scheming......wondering.....what in the world can a hot headed brat do?
I know.....
I know.....
I know why homelessness is a problem in Colorado.
It's not pot.
We have too many laws. We have too many housing ordinances which increase costs and make it hard for people to survive.
I remember talking to a politician from Texas who bragged about a near zero homeless rate. I remember researching his county's housing codes before a tax hike caught my attention.
I think I have work to do.
**********
There is something else. It may seem silly. I doubt I will have time to do this. I work two jobs. As much as I'd like to think I'm a really talented musician, I'm more talented at politics....and swaying opinion.
I think that is the gift the Gods gave me.
I've met many homeless people. It takes a long time to gain their trust. They've been hurt so much that they become reclusive and untrusting. If you were to offer them a home, they'd turn it down...not because they want to be homeless. They turn it down because they are realists - what's the catch?
The worst part about being homeless is the invisibility of it all. Most homeless people aren't those you see with the street signs. They are hidden in the sewers, under bridges and in parks. They hide.
You can always tell a homeless person by his or her teeth. When they lose their jobs and the ability to maintain themselves, the teeth always give them away.
That jackass on the street corner with the million dollar smile is not homeless.
The guy cowering under blankets in the alley probably is.
They feel invisible.
They forget who they are.
They don't think they count.
They have stories.....beautiful and sad stories.
Wouldn't it be awesome if some really talented musician could get to know a few homeless people.... write songs about them and give them the royalties? You could always split the royalties with a charity.
Hell, I'd buy the album if it were artistic enough.
I can interview people. I can get people to spill their guts. I can argue with politicians and I can sway public opinion.
I don't have the mental energy to write moving music and lyrics.
I know someone can.
If this resonates with you, steal the idea.
I'll share it with the musicians and homeless activists I know.
Maybe it'll take on a life of its own.
*******
I wish my dear friend a happy birthday. There is a candle lit for him in a little room somewhere.
The witches say if you dance in circles with elder flower or some herb I bought a pound of at the Pagan Apothecary, it'll give someone a wish if you say his or her name while dancing. I don't remember the name of the herb because I already did the ritual and threw away the package.
I'll dig it out of the trash and type the name below.
Anyway - I don't know if anyone's wish will come true. I do know that I'm dizzy and wore out. At least I'll sleep well tonight.
If it's your birthday, I pray your biggest wish will come true.
I'm off to go to sleep so I can go back to the office tomorrow - another ten hour workday. I think I'm insane.
I don't know what the heck I'm working for. I think I'm just killing time.
Love ya lots,
S.
.
Post script - this is weird -but- I think I solved my fashion dilemma. I was told a local shop was going to have a sale on men's thermal socks.....so....I went off to find socks and wound up finding a little consignment store that sold wrap dresses for $6 each.
I stopped at three. I'm very proud of myself. I also bought a vintage suit jacket and a sweater.
I found my fashion style. 'Eff it... I'm going to be me.
The store didn't have decent men's socks. I want something that won't pill. Whenever you buy clothing that is a mix of natural fibers (e.g. cotton) and man-made fibers (e.g. polyester)...it will pill.
The socks have to be 100% of whatever the heck they are. They've got to be soft and cushy. I need to buy a box of men's socks. Soldiers and homeless men always ask for clean socks....always.
I'll probably wind up ordering something on Amazon.
May you find a cause that feeds your soul.
It's the only thing that makes life worth living.