Posted in General Interest, Jamie Dedes, Mental Health

The Keep Smiling Bag

“Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.” His Holiness, the 14th Dalai Lama of Tibet

A lifetime ago I was privileged to work with folks who were everyday heroes in desperate circumstances. They were people transitioning into the mainstream and the workplace from welfare, foster youth programs, homelessness, drug and alcohol rehabilitation, catastrophic illness,  disability, prison, violent environments, and job layoffs and plant closures.

There were many things we could do to help our clients. We helped them find jobs and housing. We encouraged them to get G.E.D.s and vocational training or retraining. We found ways to address learning disabilities and get people out of abusive relationships. We offered classes on nutrition and parenting. We facilitated a sense of community and support.  In true hero fashion, our clients worked hard.  They took advantage of and were grateful for whatever was made available to them. They honored their contracts and did all the extra things that can make a difference between failure and success. Over eighty-percent successfully turned their lives around.

In those days, my responsibilities included teaching a three-unit community college career-development class. To provide  inspiration through the often overwhelming ups-and-downs,  some of us made our students Keep Smiling Bags. A Buddhist might call these bags a Metta* Bag; a Catholic, a Caritas* Bag; a Jew, a Chesid* Bag, a Muslim, a Birr bag. To a Native American it might be a Medicine Bag. Since I learn from all and affiliate with none, I just call it a Keep Smiling Bag. It’s a gift of love and inspiration and you might even say it’s about attitude adjustment.

In these trying times, you may have a few people in your life who could use a Keep Smiling Bag. The bags also make nice token gifts for birthdays or holidays or as get-well gifts or party favors. Those who are crafty may especially enjoy this exercise and will no doubt create beautiful and unusual presentations, perhaps doing the card in calligraphy or hand-crafting the bag or hand-sewing cloth pouches in place of paper bags.

If you do make Keep Smiling Bags, make them with the intention to heal.

Here are the supplies you’ll need to gather:

  • Small, cheerful gift bags
  • Little decorative erasers
  • Glass marbles
  • Colored rubber bands
  • Assorted colored crayons
  • Silk ribbons
  • Silver stars
  • Birthday candles
  • Hershey’s Hugs and Kisses
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Gather the trinkets and place them into the bag.
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Prepare this instruction card to go with the trinkets:
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♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

These are a few things to get you through the day:
  1. Eraser –  to erase your negative self-talk
  2. Marbles – for when you think you’ve lost yours (you haven’t)
  3. Rubber band – s-t-r-e-t-c-h yourself into new activities. new points of view, new enthusiasms
  4. Crayons – events may color your life, you choose the colors
  5. Silk ribbon – to tie everything together when it seems life is falling apart
  6. Stars – to get to the top of the mountain, you have to reach for the stars
  7. Candle – your inner light shines bright no matter what the circumstances of your life
  8. Hugs & Kisses – Someone cares. Me! 🙂.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

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metta, caritas, and chesid ~ all mean loving kindness, birr (Islam) deep love
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 – Jamie Dedes
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© 2010, 2013, essay & photo of roses, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved
Photo credits ~ Gift Bag, Ann Cervova, Public Domain Pictures.net. 
Hershey’s Kisses, courtesy of IvoShandor,  CreativeCommons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license via Wikipedia. 
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Photo on 2012-09-19 at 20.00JAMIE DEDES ~ My worldly tags are poet and writer. For the past five years I’ve blogged at The Poet by Day,the journey in poem, formerly titled Musing by Moonlight.  Through the gift of poetry (mine and that of others), I enter sacred space.

Posted in Jamie Dedes, Poems/Poetry

EARLY MORNING BLUES

EARLY MORNING BLUES

by

Jamie Dedes

And far into the night he crooned that tune

The stars went out and so did the moon.

The singer stopped playing and went to bed.

While the weary blues echoed through his head.

The Weary Blueby Langston Hughes

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If you are reading this post on the home page, you will need to click on the post title for the poem to lay out properly.

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Suddenly conscious, remembering, dread.

Before dawn the worst blues of the day,

those dismal black-blues of a battered heart

Gummy, gloomy blues, tangled in cobwebs

Blues – dispirited as a fatherless girl,

a widower man, a betrayed lover

Blues bereft as the loss of an old friend

Bitter-acid blues that rise in the throat of

a wage-slave, dying by slow suffocation

·

Early Morning Blues . . .

The heavy-hearted blue sludge

that weighs upon the mother with her pink slip

the father with his account overdrawn

The deep, murky sea of blue that swallows up

the homeless man begging, living on the margin

Or the homeless woman sleeping on the street,

crying her cancer pain deep into the night

The sword-in-the-heart blues

of  a family living on trash-bin dinners

The dark, churning brackish blue

of a child’s empty stomach, no food in sight

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Early Morning Blues . . .

The helpless, hopeless, remorse-filled blues

that come as Time runs out and Eternity beckons

That darkest of hues with shivering slivers

of pewter blue, muting to grey, muting to black

Muting to light fractures in a surface

permeable and permissible, heavenly light

Or so “they” tell me . . .

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But lost in a sea of light

will “I’ still be?

will “you” still be?

Answer me that.

What is the character of this light?

Matter or myth?

Ah, then, after all, pondering further

I find I really don’t care

I’ll poem the blues and poem my light

until all that’s left of me is what

I’ve left behind . . .

and you?

Will you leave your unwritten

blue poem hanging in the air to be

heard by those few who can?

Or, will you, like Africans of old, paint

yourself blue and boiling tears

dance around the fire and give

birth to the soul of a new art

·

Photo credit ~ Wilfredo R. Rodriguez H. via Wikipedia

♥ ♥ ♥

INTO THE BARDO

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