Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Sunday at Clara's (from journal entry 8-28-11)


I'm at Clara's. I don't feel like it today. Don't feel like Clara, don't feel like being here. Didn't mind getting up this morning, didn't mind the drive. But don't feel like Clara's drama. I gotta pray. Gotta shift my mood and feelings. Nothing has changed. She hasn't changed. I have. It's up to me to shift.

I got here at 7 and at 7:05 she was already calling me. I did get a good laugh as I read through the notes from the other caregivers. Esther wrote the other day that she was having a really hard time with her and that she told Esther to leave the room and bring in a nurse who wasn't stupid. That was funny because I can so see her saying that.

I shared last night at Red Stories how we as human beings are often not present to how generous others are with us. Clara doesn't get the generosity she is given by the caregivers here. She doesn't get that when she calls we could just leave her in the room calling. We don't, but she's not present to how much we give to her.

At Red Stories I invited the audience to be aware of the generosity of the performers. The storytellers and poets and musicians who share very intimate details of themselves. Details and sharing intended to help the listeners in some way. Through inspiration, encouragement, information or entertainment.

Also as performers we have to be mindful to appreciate what the audience gives to us. They give us their attention and time. They give us their money and energy. They give encouragement, inspiration, tears, they spend money on gas to drive to the shows and back home.

In this moment I recognize that what Clara is giving, whether she is aware of it or not, is an opportunity to be a contribution to her. I know that I make a major difference in her life. In the time that I'm here. It is my blessing to be the one praying and caring for her as anything I do for and to anyone, I am always only doing to and for myself.

When I complain about her, somewhere inside of me there is my complaint about myself. Even if the complaint is as simple as why don't I have a different job where I'm not dealing with her.

I really have to pray because this coming weekend I'm scheduled to be with the Minutes. They are a married couple out in Pamona. Twelve hour shifts Saturday and Sunday. I'm not looking forward to going all the way out there two days and taking care of two people and I was just informed that I don't get paid for two. That's a huge issue for me. I have to speak with someone in the office tomorrow because... yeah no.

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