Tech-surrender

 It is a rampant disease.... intense frustration with failing technology, whether it is an owned device or an agency telephone system that never allows you to reach a real person without having a nervous breakdown.

I recently spoke with my counselor about a meltdown I had after being on the phone for half an hour, trying desperately to reach a company's correct office line for help I needed just for daily living.  The dispassionate voice that prompted me to press this or that phone key was the worst of it.  I did all that was asked of me but there was never a choice for the problem I had, and certainly no key to press to be transferred to a real live, warm person who might recognize the tears, then the anger in my voice.

The conclusion was that I felt UNHEARD and unimportant. Just like my growing-up years. No wonder I had a meltdown.

There are too many other incidents to list wherein all of the tech gizmos in my home did not act like they were supposed to. The photo app that printed an 8 x 10 instead of its usual 5 x 7. The password that my computer ALWAYS saved so I would not have to refer to my huge notepad of passwords. On that day, an updated browser had erased all of my passwords. Oh, THAT was a barrel of laughs! 

My bandaid (hardly a solution) is to put up signs on or near every piece of equipment in my home. One such reminder reads, "Warning, this might not work!" and other signs tell me to take a deep breath, hope for the best, but expect the worst.

Now that my expectations are set up FOR something going wrong, I am much better prepared for when it does. Daily, I might add.

-GG

Water-gazing

 I took a video last summer of some waterfalls near me.

On a particularly difficult day this week, when my emotions were squeezing me into a corner,I got the urge to stare at fire, to stare at water, in order to feel better.

I found my video, uploaded it to Youtube, and enjoyed gazing at it (a computer screen is better than nothing I guess.) It did good things for me.  Allowed me to focus only on a truly spectacular bit of moving Nature. For the first  minute or two, I found my brain full of the usual trash, repeating phrases, having imaginary conversations, worrying, etc. It did calm down, though, when I put more effort into focusing on individual parts of the moving water. I would watch one section for a minute, seeing tiny splashes that were repeated on a rock, or seeing the more uniform flow in the middle.

All in all, it was a positive experience.  I moved on to staring at a crackling campfire that someone else had uploaded.  That was excellent in the same way.

-GG

a lesson in impermanence

 It was twenty below zero when I got up this morning.

I decided, just this one time, NOT to embrace the present, but to look to the past.

I went through photos I had taken of the Dummerston covered bridge, under which I enjoyed many days of swimming on hot summer days.

I got out my old Etch A Sketch and did a rendering of one of the photos. I was pleased with the outcome, then wanted to do another summer scene. It meant erasing the hour of work I had just completed.

I was surprised to find it gratifying to give the thing a good ten second shake then overturn it to find a brand new slate.

Like life.

Daily life.

-GG

Paradolia

Paradolia is the phenomenon of the human brain translating an otherwise 'nothing' image into an understandable one.  When we see an elephant in a cloud.  Or a face in a tree full of knots.  Or even a heart image on the fur of our kitty.  More popular ones include sacred images on toast!

Here is an Emperor Penguin in ice (how appropriate!) that I spied on a recent walk.  I often bring my camera just in case I see these wonders.

The first thing I noticed, beyond the basic shape, was the perfect wing formation.  I love the smooth graceful bend of the head.

My first experience of this was, as most folks, during early childhood. In our bathroom, we had some truly ugly linoleum tile. It was a treasure trove for a kid to play I Spy.  So many faces and animal formations showed up in that floor. And some painter had used far too much paint during a certain stroke while working on the door frame. It became a lovely waterfall that I got to visit each time I used the toilet.

What do YOU see as you look around your home or property?

-GG
 

poem

I enjoy my friends company and I know they enjoy mine 

so I wish I could be with them a lot of the time. 

Inclusion Center makes me happy. 

I know that it sounds a little sappy 

but most of my friends come from there. 

So I think we all should share 

our thoughts and feelings about this place 

and spread the word here and now. 

To show everyone the wow 

that this place has 

which includes all its pizzazz. 

In conclusion I will say that 

if you want to enjoy your day 

then come and join us right away!

 

-A

 

The World from Cirquie's Box

 My cat, Cirquie (pronounced SirKey) and I, have a morning tradition.

After breakfast, I haul out a box weighted down with old sheets inside so it will not collapse when she is on it. Add to the top an old towel, prop the sides with my bed pillows, then comes one of the best parts - summoning the kitty.

I poke my head out of the bedroom doorway and call, "Cirquie's box!" and my grey and white 11-year old cat comes running, knowing what joys she will find. She hops up on the bed then takes a flying leap onto the box. The moment her paws hit the towel, she is purring.

I bend over her body, our heads pressed against each other's and we have our ten minute morning session. She watches for any movement from birds, cars, neighboring cats, and whatever the wind might be blowing across the land. I begin talking, as she loves just the sound of my voice as much as she loves her meals and her belly rubs.  "What's going on out here today?" I ask.  The answer is deeper rumbling from her chest.  I often lay my head firmly against her back or side, to absorb that wonderful healing sound.

I have, of late, been dealing with a great deal of stress on top of my usual depression and anxiety. So I find myself focusing exclusively on the negatives. I moan about the giant pile of logs which mar the beauty of the landscape. As well as the ugly masses of crumbling cement from a long-ago collapsed barn. Watching vehicles careen around the corner reminds me of how close to the road I am and how I long for more privacy and natural silence. I see the garbage bag of pine boughs that was my Christmas 'tree' that has yet to be bundled and hung next to the bird feeder to give them a bit of shelter. As for that bird feeder, it is precariously hung from a markedly tilted pole which I may or may not tackle some day.

But the moment I voice these concerns in Cirquie's ear, I realize my lousy attitude. I begin, instead, to speak of the goodness of all that we see. The constant beauty of the evergreens on the other side of the field, the shadow patterns on the snow. The fact that, although it is frigid outside, we are indoors, safe and warm. The pleasure of our time together, hearing her happy purring.  "Accentuate the Positive" comes to mind, a phrase from an old song.  When our session is over and I go on to morning chores, I find that expressing aloud the positive things we have seen together from our little window has made a difference. I feel less overwhelmed, a bit more ready to face whatever may come my way on this day.

 

-GG

Beginnings.... Everyone Matters

 

As I sit here thinking about the beginning of the Inclusion Center I find I can’t sort out when the beginning was.

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There was our first Friday session at the Gibson Aiken Center when so many people showed up and we had balloon games, learned some sign language and played bingo.

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But that wasn’t actually the beginning because a number of people had met for over a year before that day; a year of discussing what we wanted, what the sessions would look like, who would be welcome to join us.

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So maybe the beginning of the Inclusion Center was that first gathering of interested parents and program providers when we met at the library and all shared our interests and goals for the program that would eventually be the Inclusion Center.

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But that first meeting wasn’t actually the beginning either because before that, I had met with a dozen individuals to discuss the concept of an inclusive program for all people. There was the walk I took with a friend where the idea was originally voiced, and then the tea I had with a parent where we discussed whether this idea was actually possible or not, and so many other conversations held with various people before the actual meeting at the library that was open to the public.

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I think it’s more accurate to say the beginning of the Inclusion Center was the day I met with a local program when they told me that Reuben wasn’t welcome to an event with all his friends because he wasn’t a member of their program. That’s when I reacted by saying to the staff, “why can’t you simply welcome everyone who has a disability, even if you charge those who are not a part of your program?!” That’s when the idea became clear to me that there was a real need in our community and that not even the programs that are designed to fit the need were going to do anything about it. �

But in order for that thought to grow inside of me I had to become who I was on that day. I had to have experiences that taught me that everyone matters, that people shouldn’t be excluded even if there are rules that say they are, that my son needed an advocate to speak up and do for him so that he could be a part of our community.

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Each experience I had over the years, my work as an advocate, my goals as a human being, my view of life, all brought me to that moment where I was able to see the injustice of the moment, and have the ability to speak up, and then have the motivation and ability to meet with others and put the idea into place.

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In fact, it was as a child that I first began having the understanding that people were excluded and how indecent and unacceptable that was. As a child of 5 I began attending a school where everyone was different from me. My brother and I were the only Jewish kids in the school and we were the only ones from a city. We were different, and while everyone was kind, we were clearly different.

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When a black student came to the school the principal put the girl in my class and sat her down next to me. The staff knew I would be nice to her and speak with her even though she was more different that anyone I had ever met or seen before. I was terrified of this black girl who was probably twice my size and black as could be, but I understood that no one else would talk with her. I understood that she mattered and that it was up to me.

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So maybe the Inclusion Center actually began that year when I realized that I was the one who could make things go well for a person who wouldn’t be welcomed or accepted, if not for me. I knew that my classmates liked me and that what I did, they would follow.

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And as a younger girl of 4 or so I would fall asleep each night crying and telling myself that when I grew up I would not treat others as I was being treated. I reminded myself over and over that I needed to remember this as an adult: I needed to listen to everyone and I needed to show respect to everyone, including children and animals and others who had no power.

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Beginnings. We tend to think that the beginning of something happens abruptly, but no, it doesn’t. There are so many paths that have to come together to make something happen. Just look at this example of the beginning of the Inclusion Center. Without all the paths that led me here today, the Inclusion Center would not exist.

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Because of this, particularly after writing it here for this writing group, I realize that everything I do right now is leading me toward something else. How I relate to someone, what I do in this next moment, is leading me toward the supposed beginning of who knows what.

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With that in mind, I will make sure that each action I take, each word I speak, is respectful and kind and is something I’d want as the foundation of my next beginning because it truly is that way, it is a part of my future and of beginnings that I am completely unaware of right now.

The roots of Inclusion Center

 

Inclusion Center began in 2012 with parents of adult children getting together to form a program that would be inclusive of people with any disability or health issue, age or financial situation.

Too often, we had all experienced times when our adult children were not welcome at a particular program or event because their diagnosis did not meet that program's criteria. We wanted a single program for everyone interested in attending. 

Inclusion Center opened with a roar in 2013. Thirty participants showed up that first day and we were on our way!

Priorities for IC were to be inclusive, free, and run by and for participants. 

At that point, participants were interested in dance, art, games, and connecting, so that is what we did.

Over time, interests within the group changed. We began creating videos of dance, humor and seriousness (check out our videos on YouTube). Our videos began being picked up by our local television network and were shown as PSAs. And one video on wheelchair accessibility in small town America received an Alliance Community Media award. 

New people with different interests and skills arrived and so we adjusted accordingly. Some people became interested in advocacy and activism. We met with town officials, joined the local town's ADA committee, and helped create change in any number of ways. 

A professional artist (who has a disability) joined our ranks. We then put our artistic talents together with activism and created a traveling exhibit of papier mache 'disabled animals' - each with their own printed story about their disability. At this time we also painted a large mural for a wheelchair entrance to a theater in a local historic hotel.

Once the pandemic hit we transitioned to meeting on-line. At that point most participants with developmental disabilities were uninterested or unable to join us on-line. However, we were surprised to find a new group of people who were rarely able to leave their homes due to their health issues or disabilities. IC being on-line was perfect for them. 

We began our on-line programs with Improv, Conversation Cafe, Political discussion and Games. In the fall of 2021 we signed up on MeetUp as a way to reach farther. We added a number of new sessions including a Sleep discussion group, Living with disabilities support group, Vegan discussion, and 'People with disabilities and our animals' as another session. 

Inclusion Center continues to be free, open to all and to be run by us for us. We are always happy when people join us. Whether it be for fun, connection, education, stimulation, and/or, if they want, to lead sessions, help with organizing, the running of our website, blog or to join our board. The more the better!

Please check out and sign up to our MeetUp page (meetup.com/inclusion-center/) for updated information on sessions being offered. 

We thank you for your interest in our program and look forward to meeting more of your people at IC!

The Perfect Drip

It is below zero as I write and my nerves are always a bit on edge during times of low temperatures.  I live in a small trailer whose water pipes are both exposed and uninsulated.  I experienced, in my first winter, three freeze-ups.  I had to get very creative at those times: I used my only tiny electric heater, 3 SnuggleSafe microwaveable heating disks from my cat rescue days, and even baked potatoes nestled carefully around the pipes under the bathroom sink. Lo and behold, my water began to run again after an all-day treatment of these remedies.  I was thrilled at my Yankee ingenuity, especially with those giant blessed hot potatoes.

I became determined this year to never reach the point at which I'd need to resort to such measures.  I am now proactive.  But that means establishing a dripping faucet at the furthest point in the house, my kitchen.  The faucet itself is the single-handle swivel type and is markedly stiff.  I struggle, with my arthritic hands, just to rinse my dishes.  I loathe wasting water, so turn it on and off with each couple of rinsed plates.  And when it came time to adjust the thing to drip -that magic midway between nothing and a stream - my hands objected wholeheartedly.  The first few times involved many attempts.  A gentle swing of the handle either brought no water or a torrent.  I'd back it off, only to have it shut completely down again.  After about 15 adjustments, I found The Perfect Drip.  Such a wonderful feeling of accomplishment, of finesse, in spite of my failing hand strength.

My pipes were safe all night long, but come morning, when I had to use the water in order to wash my breakfast dishes, I'd have to destroy that lovely metered flow.  Thus, throughout the winter days, I repeated the process countless times (with many continued struggles) in order to once again find the perfect drip.  On those days  when I felt I could not begin all over again, I let it drip, unable to use my faucet.  I heated my collected water in giant pots on the stove-top and washed my dishes with that, later reheating more for the rinsing process. I felt like I was living in the mid 1800s.

I am more skilled at it this winter, in spite of an ever-increasing stiff handle.  Practice has paid off.  Throughout these endeavors, I have caught the water in a variety of containers.  You will know it is winter at my place not by the thermometer, but by the countertops covered with water-filled pitchers, jars, and pans.  And the occasional crockpot.  Every drip gets used for myself, my cats, and my houseplants.  I consider wasting water to be a small crime.

I have also perfected the arrival of the drips into their containers so they don't make that drive-ya-nuts sound.

When the  temperatures dropped the other day from balmy to frigid, I approached my kitchen faucet anew and to my delight, got The Perfect Drip going on the very first try!

-GG