If I've Done Nothing Wrong, Are You Sure I Have Nothing to Fear?

I've been watching news reports on the Rayshard Brooks shooting. All sorts of memories have been filling my head. In the Brooks case, we see the kind of shooting that most people have shrugged off as justified. This is someone who tried to run, grabbed a Taser from the policeman, and fled, attempting to fire the stun gun over his shoulder.

It reminded me of a conversation I had with an officer once while I was still working as a cops reporter. He told me that any suspect attempting to flee in a vehicle, should he hit or come close to hitting an officer, becomes subject to a manslaughter/attempt murder charge and that officers were justified in using extreme force. The officer was candid but still chose his words carefully enough that he didn't actually say they could light the car up. This mentality is what a lot of SoCal officers head out into the field within poorer neighborhoods.

That reminded me of an incident I had. I've long regarded the police with what I call a healthy suspicion. My parents and siblings are split down the middle in the looks department as some of us either got the more indigenous looks or the European looks. My sister got good looking genes, long dark hair, gorgeous eyes while Europe apparently pooped all over my younger brother and me.

Still, you could tell we were Latino. As a result, we were often the target of police and the court system. Recently, after finishing up an assignment at son's school, I was driving us home. I turned onto a residential street where I noticed a Sheriff's car. I looked right at the deputy as I made the stop at the stop sign. I made a right and noticed he made a U-Turn and pulled up right behind me with his lights flashing. 

I can't tell you the feeling that runs through you when most of your experiences with officers have been negative. My heart started pounding. I started shaking. As I pulled over, I thought about what I should do. I was frozen. I knew I needed my license but I was too afraid to reach for it. I just sat there with Lucky next to me. He obliviously continued to watch videos on his phone. I swallowed hard and tried not to pass out. I prayed the cop would be as nice as the one who pulled me and my white husband over in a neighboring city ... but no dice.

Cop: "Did you make a full stop at the sign?"

Me, quietly wondering if it really mattered what I thought: "I think so."

Cop: "You THINK!?"

He then peers into my car and I follow his line of sight to my CJUSD badge. He then instructed me to hand over my license. I unfreeze enough to ask the oblivious child to hand me my purse. I hand over my license. The officer heads into his car to write me up. I sit there frozen on a hot day. I begin to sweat and to feel woozy. I wish I could turn on the car and run the AC but I'm terrified to do that. Meantime, he is in his air-conditioned vehicle slowly writing the citation. 

Sometime later, he comes out and announces he has decided to cite me only for expired tags. I hear part of what he says, I am loopy from fear and heat but I'm mindful to keep my hands where he can see them. I say something to him (I can't remember what) and he gives me a half-smile. Shaking I drive off. I feel relieved because, unbeknownst to the officer, my hubby had already sent off the payment for the tags. They were two months late because I had just started earning a paycheck. We finally had the money to pay.

I remembered that as I watched Brooks run. 

P.s. I stood up to my fair share of law-enforcement in my day, but since turning in my press credential, I feel as vulnerable as I did when I was a child watching my parents being treated as second class citizens. There is something empowering about a press badge.

Souplantation: Asian Ginger Broth

Recipes

For many of us, watching Covid-19 globally cut down families and kill hundreds of thousands has been, at best, heartwrenching. As is human nature, we often seek escape. But even in this, the virus has swept through, cutting down businesses we enjoy so much. Spreading everywhere, corona awaits silently like a sentry. We don't know when, if or who it will strike. Especially difficult is finding who is carrying the virus and how it will affect anyone in particular. This makes large gatherings potentially dangerous.

Among the sad business casualties of the destructive Covid-19 pandemic is Souplantation. The San Diego-based eatery offered some of the healthier food options known in buffet-dom. Want to build a salad made primarily of spinach leaves? They had your back. Want quinoa? Peas? Carrots? Edamame? Onions? Bell pepper? Tuna tarragon? Chilled spiral pasta? They had your back.

Speaking on behalf of my family, we will miss Souplantation immensely. Especially my son who has rather severe texture issues, a result of ADHD. He loved the focaccia pizza and cheesy garlic flatbread. And I would rest easy knowing that we chose a restaurant where he would eat instead of sitting there looking stressed as he desperately searched his mind for a way to get out of eating something without upsetting his sensitive mother.

As soon as the announcement came down, my thoughts turned to the recipes that Souplantation had posted on their website. My hubby then told me other Souplantation fans were now scrambling to save or print them out. I printed the ones I could find.

In order to preserve them for myself, I am posting them here, starting with one of my favorites. Enjoy.

Asian Ginger Broth

Time: 30 minutes

Yield: 16 cups

Ingredients

4 tsp. Finely minced ginger

3 tsp. Finely minced garlic

2 tbsp Canola oil

6 tbsp Cornstarch

16 cups Cold water

6 tbsp Vegetarian base

Optional toppings:

Shredded carrots

Green onions

Chopped spinach

Sliced mushrooms

Wonton Strips

Cubed tofu

Shredded chicken

1. Combine ginger, garlic and canola oil in a large pot and saute for 5 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, whisk together the cornstarch with 2 cups of the cold water until it is dissolved.

3. Add cornstarch mixture, vegetarian base and remaining water to the pot and bring to a boil.

4. Reduce heat and simmer for at least 15 minutes.

5. Add salt and pepper to taste.

6. Top with any of the optional toppings you desire.

* Editors note: When I made this soup, I checked to see what the results were after the 15 minutes of simmering. I have an electric stove that does not get very hot. The broth was still watery, far from done. But I allowed it to simmer for most of the hour. The results were great. I ended up with a light, tasty broth.

The Power of Pause

I want to thank all of you who read my last blog about diaphragmatic breathing. I definitely got a bump in readership because of it. I’m terrible at getting the word out about what I’m doing sometimes. It doesn’t help that I promised to write something weekly then realized too late that I had forgotten to put up a blog. Still, I’m earnest about this venture. I’ve been trying a number of things to help keep me centered and focused. When life “resumes” I have to be ready in some way. Some of us will have to hit the ground running while others will struggle to get back in the work race.

A big thank you to Liz, who pointed out a great connection in last week’s blog. In that one, we talked about breathing from the belly. She wrote:

“Yes, wind instrument players use diaphragmatic breath and this (is) a good explanation. It’s the basic yoga relaxation breath, basic Buddhist mindfulness breath. It is very effective. A terrific thing to do to wake yourself up, gently, or to help you get to sleep if you’re over-amped. Excellent for stress and anxiety management. Like any tool, you need to use it. And that in itself takes discipline, especially if your initial response to stress is anger (which used to be me).”

Anger was my response too. It is said that music is soothing, but performing may be even better. The breathing entailed seems similar. I’m no expert so I won’t expand on it other than to say that this makes sense to me.

Today's exercise

With that in mind, I wanted to share another tip toward controlling stress. This tip is called Power of Pause.

It is exactly what it sounds like. Simply put, this is the practice of taking a moment to pause and look at what might be happening to you at any given moment. I love this practice because it can be used at so many different times and for different levels of stress. Taught to me by Cal Poly Pomona Professor Alane Dougherty*, this is easy, but it does take some self-discipline. Here’s how to do it:

1) Stop. Whatever you’re reacting to, or whatever you might be doing that is making you feel stressed or overwhelmed, stop. As soon as you stop, lift your head and take a breath.

2) Become aware of what is happening to you. Become aware of your senses. Experience all of this without engaging or reacting to it.

3) Become fully aware at this moment. Be fully present at that moment. You might even ask yourself, "Am I upset? Why is it upsetting me?" DO NOT pass judgment on yourself or anyone else.

4) Finally, be aware of what this means to you and what that experience or those emotions are doing to you or for you. Does it present an opportunity for something, be it change, or for an opportunity to say something that might make a positive difference for you or someone?

This can be done within a few minutes. And it allows us to really understand what is happening around us and to us. A pause lets us connect and understand where we are and we can be clear about the risks or benefits of our choices.

I suspect we think we're doing this more often than we really are. The reality is different. Most of us react based on past experiences or because "that's just who we are." We're reaching for the familiar, no matter how destructive that reaction may be to others or ourselves. Sometimes we have knee-jerk reactions or swallowing our emotions at the moment. That often does not work. A pause is so essential. It gives us time to be fully present in the moment.

One day, while I worked in the cafeteria of our school, the noise level seemed to be at an all-time high. I remember feeling tired from being on my feet for hours. I remember just wishing for the work hours to pass so I could leave. But then it hit me that I would need to take a long drive to Pomona before I could get a moment to myself. For a brief second I felt the inner turmoil, the meek voice of the tired inner-child saying, "I just can't anymore," squaring off with the inner coach's voice yelling, "get in there and keep going!" I realized I needed a pause. I literally stopped for a second and looked around. I took in what was around me. There were children talking, laughing, wiping down tables. I heard laughter among the screaming and general silliness. I smiled at one youngster and all of a sudden I was feeling so much lighter emotionally.

There are so many things that tug at us on any given day. Some things are small, like the pressure of getting ready for the day, or finishing a project, or having to keep after our kids. And there are big things. This quarantine and the fact that many of us are facing joblessness are large things.

One thing is certain, we can make better choices when we’re present in the moment, and not lost in the chaos of our emotions.

Before I let you all go, I do want to thank you for spending time on this blog. I’m trying not to spend too much time waxing poetic. I’m one of those people who get tired of scrolling past sweet or funny quips just to get a casserole recipe. I pledge not to do too much of that.

To learn more about the Power of Pause, check out this video.

* - Dr. Alane Daugherty is a writer, speaker, and professor. Her Power of Pause instruction can be found in "From Mindfulness to Heartfulness; A Journey of Transformation through the Science of Embodiment."

Learning to Relax

I recently had a particularly stressful Friday. I've been dealing with this level of stress thanks in large part to the Coronavirus forcefully pulling us out of the lives we knew. As many of us retreat into our homes, insecurity, restlessness, and anxiety have been keeping us company. Today, my body started to feel sick from the kind of stress that should never be allowed to run unchecked. But a realization hit me. Even though I grew up in a stressful home and learned to struggle with anxiety, I hadn't felt that kind of stress in a long time (dramatic pause) until the pandemic hit. I had reigned in my stress and anxiety with help from several professors at Cal Poly Pomona's kinesiology department. A need to fill out a college schedule pushed me to take relaxation/mindfulness courses. I had no idea what I would learn. It was a blessing in disguise. The professors taught me a great deal about what stress does to the body. I followed the advice as closely as I could and I remember getting better and doing better at the things that needed to get done. So when that feeling of anxiety and unease started to creep back in, I realized that I WASN'T USED TO FEELING A HIGH LEVEL OF STRESS ANYMORE! (Irony.)

With that in mind, I decided that I owe it to myself, and those who depend on me, to return to those principles that kept me emotionally and mentally centered. I aim to return to mindfulness.

This means going back to the relaxation techniques I learned and sharing those here once a week.

I will be taking it step-by-step, relearning those things that make up the foundation of mindfulness. Ever the journalist. I will give myself a question that I (and anyone else who stumbles onto this site) will answer for myself (ourselves?). And then I'll move on through the different exercises that I learned in my mindfulness courses.

This Week's Question: What is it that is stressing you? Be as specific as you can. Many of us are stressed about being locked in and losing work. Ask yourself specifically what is behind that stress and fear? Is it not finding another job? Is it having to juggle work at home with helping children in the home finish school work? Is it the fear of becoming ill? Or are you dealing with a sick loved one?

Whatever the fear or stressor, it might be time to stop carrying the burden alone. Understand that self-destruction only makes things worse. I've been carrying the fear of losing my job close to the vest. Ugly scenarios run unrestrained through my mind. "Here we are again," I say to myself. "Are we facing homelessness again? Just when I had gotten us back on our financial feet, I lost a job I had so worked so hard to earn. My family and I are now forced to again rely on one income."

What is the solution?

There is no quick or easy answer. However, we cannot throw our hands up. Depression robs us of possible moments of joy and chances to find a way out of our situation. My mother always said, "While on your travel along the road of life, don't look down, you might miss a turn onto a better road." 

Not much will run smoothly until we take care of ourselves.

Exercise of the week: Diaphragmatic breathing, also known as belly breathing.

Often used by asthmatics and people with other breathing problems, belly breathing is the simplest technique to help lower blood pressure and heart rate. It also lowers levels of harmful hormones. Those hormones could be a topic for another day. Suffice to say that our bodies release stress hormones into our bodies that become harmful if not controlled.

How to do it: 

• You can sit or can lie down. Choose a position that is most comfortable and that will allow you to breathe deeply.
• Make sure your body becomes relaxed once you are in position.
• Put one hand on your chest and the other on your stomach.
• Take a deep breath in through your nose. The hand on your belly should feel your stomach rising as it's "filling" with air.  Hold your breath as long as is comfortable, but not longer than 10 seconds.
• Quickly make your lips into an "O" shape and breathe out as if you're blowing out the candles on your birthday cake.
•  8 to 10 of these breaths should be enough but you can do as many or as little as you like.

That's it. The American Lung Association provides a video with instruction. While the video addresses those with asthma and COPD, the tips apply to everyone. You can practice this at any time you need to.

Until next time, much love everyone. Remember you are not alone.

I Wrote a Bad, Bad Thing ...

I did a bad thing recently. In the midst of sadness, despair and grief - over things I still have no strength to talk about - I made an angry and hurtful statement about members of American society.

The comment was unnecessary. In fact, it stepped over a line in the sand, a boundary, that I set for myself. Yet there it was, just under 280 characters in a Tweet, a response to someone who wanted four more years of businessman Donald J. Trump in the White House. My Tweet read: 

“ I hope so. I have no doubt he will kill thousands more of his followers and maybe, just maybe, we might have a break from people like you. (What a terrible thing for me to say, and yet ...)”

I was numb when I hit the tweet button. And I knew the kind of backlash I was going to get. But something in me - the true me who longs to give and receive compassion - had turned off. I felt as though the center of my soul was a dark cave, forgotten by time, devoid of sunshine. When I hit tweet on that post, I had momentarily given up on humanity. And I wrote a bad, bad thing.

I accept that this was a terrible thing to write. This is not who I am. And it’s definitely not who I strive to be. But as a flawed human, I fell from the kind grace that my faith taught to me and the strength my mother taught me to embody.

The retribution was quick:































Just as I changed not one's heart and mind, none of these tweets changed me. I wholeheartedly embrace the Beatitudes of Jesus, “Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth”; “Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called sons of God.” But my own anger and depression, like a Lemurian spirit, took over and I wallowed in bleak misery for days until ultimately I lashed out, lobbing a verbal grenade. A blast of that nature does not go unnoticed.

There is a lesson in all of this and I’ll take it for myself. I’ve re-learned that anger begets anger and hatred begets hatred. I’ve learned that it hurts, emotionally and physically, to be wrong and that celebrating someone’s supposed comeuppance is a dagger no one needs to plunge. The fact is that people in both parties have died. Another fact is that more Dems and GOPers will die from Covid-19. An equally important fact is that when any one of us looks back on these days and realize we were on the wrong side of history, it could open emotional chasms and levels of self-examination that would rock anyone’s psyche. I could very well be on the wrong side though my heart and my training in research tell me I'm not.

It would be smart and compassionate if we could lay down rules of human discourse, with limits that we all could follow. But I’m not sure these can be followed by some, much less all. I used to think to myself that I at least had the ability not to tread on or hurt others. Yet, several days ago, on Twitter, I may have done just that. Though I should make clear that the people who commented likely went unhurt. I indulged their impulses and not much more.

Still, one poster by the Twitter handle Escobar, whom I admitted more than I wanted to on that terrible, terrible day, extended humanity in the face of my inexplicable villainy.

“I usually keep my beliefs to myself and never wanna sound like I'm preaching ... but it saddens me to see another person hurt. It really hits home! Just remember that He's in control and keep faith alive ... now more than ever.”

After I read this I cried. I responded by thanking her. Then I went to the room and cried some more. Despite the onslaught and the rampant hatred, a flower of compassion bloomed. I wasn’t expecting that. I spend the next few days thinking and praying. I am not an outwardly religious person. Faith is deeply personal and not open to debate. But I was reminded of who I had been striving to be. Fortunately in this world, we get more chances to do things right. And I suppose the right thing to do is to rise again and hold my head up,

Very Much a Newbie ... And that Breaks My Heart

Today a Junior High student had a brief freak out on me. I had asked her to hand over her phone after I caught her using it in class. She refused angrily telling me, "No! I'm not giving it to you. This is my phone." She put it away. I was fine with that for the moment but let her know that she was fine ... for now.

I made it clear that I was taking phones if I saw them. Later on, I saw her again on her phone when she needed to be working. I warned her, "put that away if you want to keep it." She freaked out! "Oh my gawd! It's my phone."

I couldn't help but give her a puzzled look. Then I took a stern attitude asking her what was going on. It took me a moment to realize this child was about to blow. I knew something was brewing under the defiant facade. The class also stopped to stare, I could feel them looking at her. I decided right then and there, for the sake of the child, to get her out. "You know what hon, why don't you head p to the office. I think that's where you kinda wanted to go anyway." (Her teacher was up at the office.)

"Fine," she said, shoving her stuff in her backpack.

"Go ahead and turn in your notebook," I told her. "Mr. (C) is collecting them."

She stopped and glared at me. "I don't have to give you my notebook. It's MY notebook." One of her classmates became exasperated and piped up, "Jeez "Gigi" what is the deal with the attitude!"

I watched her walk out. I looked at the class and told them, "I didn't mean to upset her."

"Oh it wasn't you," I was told. "She does this to Mr. C." I expressed sorrow. I reminded the students that we were all dealing with things. I know I do, I said. But they didn't seem to believe me.

For the record, I collected several phones today. The students gave me no troubles and simply collected got them back at the end of class. I never keep them if the student willingly hands them over. I usually give it back at the end of class. If a student is disrespectful, I either take the phone and deliver it to the office or I will write the student up.

Today was the first time I saw a youngster struggling this bad. I told this to the teacher and expressed my suspicions about the inner pain, his face became serious, he sighed and confirmed my suspicions with a simple nod and, "yep."

 I'm not sure if I handled it well. I know I could have done better. I think I was being tough with a child who was already hurting. For that, I feel bad.

Home is Where the Heart is ... And Where I Feel Afraid

Hello! I have a strange topic I need to vent about. First I need to set the scene for you all. I am a professional. So is my husband. We don’t make light of complaining openly about certain things. And yet I find myself angry, confused and, frankly, nearly sick over what I’m seeing happening to my home.

I am deeply concerned with some things done by the new ownership at my Colton apartment complex. Let me be clear, I have lived in this complex for more than 10 years. I've enjoyed it and want desperately to stay but it's becoming very clear that we are in for a bumpy ride with the new owners.

1) We were advised there would be painting done and directed to clear our patios less than a year after we endured painting and directed to clear our patios by previous ownership.

2) For reasons never made clear to me, screens were added on top of our original window screens obscuring a clear view of the outside.






After the addition of the new screens.







Before the screens.

3) On a more amusing note, our complex was renamed “The Tides at Grand Terrace” despite that we are nowhere near a body of water.

4) The apartment complex is in the city of Colton, not in the more affluent city of Grand Terrace.

5) Notification for changes and construction is slow to come, ex. I found out Monday night at 5:55 p.m. that I was unable to use the gym because the hours had changed. The gym was no longer going to be open until 11 p.m. as it has been for years. This despite that their website - which they are quick to change in other ways - still lists the fitness center is available 24 hours.

This leads me to No. 6) Few people here seem to have answers anymore. I gave the gentleman, who stood his ground as he let me know I was intruding on the new hours of the gym, a stern comment about not getting notice. His response is similar to those we’ve received with others, he didn’t know much because he had just started two weeks prior. Perhaps a notice was sent, perhaps it wasn’t.

All that said, and at the risk of airing out too much “dirty laundry,” I should also mention that a month or so ago, the water to several buildings within the complex was shut off without notice. My husband called to advise the front office that notice would have been appreciated as I was in the middle of cooking. He was told the shut off was the work of the city and not the doing of The Tides administrators. My husband, taking a proactive approach, emailed the city’s water department asking for an explanation. Their response was that water department officials were asked to turn off the water by Tides management. Any construction that took place was conducted by The Tides group. Someone needs to check their information here. I can’t speak to all tenants but since the shut off our water pressure has slowed.

The water pressure is not an impactful issue for my family, but a serious lack of communication is. If something has been changed, notification would be appreciated. The changes to the water system may have been for the good of the environment, but I cannot say for sure. I haven’t been informed what in fact happened.

All this is wrapped up in my strong suspicion that the new ownership is attempting to gentrify (for lack of a better phrase) the complex. For example, changes include gearing the amenities that cater more for adult renters rather than family units. Despite the fact that the complex is less than 5 minutes from an elementary school and 10 minutes away from a middle school, the ownership removed a large playground which had been a gathering place for dozens of children in the past now have one choice, to use a tiny playground near the back of the complex.

Rents have gone up impressively. It is their prerogative as owners/managers to implement any rules for occupancy. I must and do respect that. But I also think it’s not unreasonable to detect an underlying message, the proverbial dire warning, in a notification we did get advising us that any occupants who are in any way late submitting their rent run a high risk of eviction, "no exceptions." The note outlined days when rents were due. The language was grim and stoic. We’ve received blanket notices on this topic before. And we have been blessed and fortunate that we have never been late with the rent, thank the Lord! Yet that note made me feel fearful. Honestly, at this point, I fear for our ability to stay here as my family as we may not fit into the future plans of The Tides ownership.

My only consolation is that California law will not allow the owners to raise my rent to the $1,600 plus that they are now beginning to charge. For now, my memory of that new employee standing stoically and unmoved before me, is burned into my memory.

Be Very, Very Quiet...

Good morning. I'm writing this at 2:30 a.m. on January 2, 2020. I have insomnia.

It's a problem.

Fortunately, I am on vacation until next week when I return to work. For those of you still trying to shake off a New Year's hangover, you are not imagining things, I have been gone from this blog for a very long time. But I have yet to give up on it. I have a lot of stuff I have to do tomorrow so I will not write long. I need sleep ... I think I am repeating myself ... yes, I definitely am.

I hope that I can keep up with the blog and write a few things about this year to sort of document how the year goes.

Like so many of us, I have changed and evolved. There is much to write about. We'll see how it goes.

Goodnight/Good morning for now.