A state of mind

I AM extremely poor; live WAY below the suggested poverty level the American government puts out stats on. But, I am not poor of spirit, ego, intelligence, or imagination!

I also realize, that me being so poor, has SOME basis in fact, of being my own fault; as I never pursued a man as a meal ticket when I could have, after my divorce lo those many years ago. Nor did I ever seek alimony when I could have (I had a job, didn't need his money!).

I was also financially short sighted, uneducated, or just plain stupid, not realizing that I had no family resources at all, (houses, cars, money, heirlooms, etc) to be passed on to me. All I received were the funeral bills (and poor funerals they were at that, my grandparents are in separate cemeteries in separate states, and sadly, I'm physically far from all those 'resting places' of my beloved family).

Though I worked from age 14 (part time after school), my paychecks always went towards paying the family rent. I remained financially stupid, and stayed that way until 1982 when after my second cancer surgery I was unable to return to work, as planned. I had to go on full disability and had no resources (what family I had were dead and gone by then, x remarried and not interested in the two teens who needed food). Jeeze! I did not even posess good quality furniture or towels that would last me the rest of my life!

Poverty has taught me not to be above accepting hand me downs (what furniture I have, my puter), dumpster diving (at least half the stuff in my apartment has arrived here via our abundant dumpsters), or just plain good will (i.e. I have a cyber buddy who has her nephew pick up and deliver to me, a full turkey dinner [serves 4- 6 so there are a lot of leftovers for the freezer!] from Ralphs or Vons every Thanksgiving).

Poverty overrode my pride. It left me long ago, in big hunks and chucks, as I've learned to ask almost total strangers for 'things'. In fact, I would not be above attaching a coffee can with RENT lettered on it with a marker, to my wheelchair and going downtown to spend the day on street corners. The only thing that has prevented me from doing this is that I am usually too ill!

In return, I really do try to 'pass it forward':
-by spending hours with a schizophrenic neighbor who is having paranoid delusions till the new med kicks in
-giving half the food in my kitchen to a drug rehab couple that had none
-putting MY stuff out at the dumpster
-rooting and giving away plants to neighbors
-collecting free samples all year on the net and making two huge xmas stockings and taking them to my daughter and grandson
-always, always giving a ciggie or two to anyone who asks
-giving change to street people when I have it
-visiting with elderly neighbors
-writing the best poetry you'll ever read or hear

So, though I'm in dire straights 365 day a year, I seldom become despondent, nor feel sorry for myself (except about my health). I realize that I'm lucky, I live in America and have a Section 8 roof over my head! And I've spent my life doing what I love, writing.

I do not ever feel useless, or like a taker because I can not longer 'work'. I feel that I contribute in ways our social systems couldn't possibly provide, one person at a time, one reader at a time. So I have no money, and few 'things'; still, I am not poor of spirit!