the in-between places

what do YOU want to be when you grow up?

2008-01-17T19:56:00.000-08:00

Think back: can you remember the first time anyone ever asked you what you wanted to be when you grew up? Do you remember your answer? I was about four years old when my mom first asked me that question and all I could imagine in my mind were images: policeman, fireman, cowboy. I wanted to be the village people, basically. And anyway let's ignore the fact that I just imagined boy-jobs. Maybe I didn't understand yet what girls were, or that they could have jobs.

I asked the folks in group tonight to think about their first memories of being interested in work, or their most interesting work stories, and here's what they came up with:

The Worst Job in the World, by Anonymous Man

Sometimes people bitch and whine about thier jobs like they've go thte wort job in the world or something. They don't. I did.

At the end of my freshman year of college, I saw a flyer offering summer jobs for college students, working for the Chicago Park District. "Cool," I thought. "I can be outside all summer, trimming trees or whatever." I applied.

A few days later they called and asked if I had any experience around boats. "Sure," I told them, because I had been sailing my uncle's sloop out on Lake Michigan since I was eleven or so.

The address they gave me for reporting to work was unfamiliar, but I found it, and walked down a rickety, swinging plank to the bank of the Chicago River, and there, right in front of me, was a huge, stinking garbage scow.

After being given a hook and a net, both on long poles, I was told that my summer job was to scrape all the crap off the surface of the river as we floated through industrial areas north of downtown, then heave the garbage into the center of the boat, making a pile that grew bigger and smellier as the day wore on.

On that first day it was 95 degrees with 95% humidity, and the smell only caused me to vomit three times. "You'll get used to it," assured the Captain, an older black man who'd been doing this forever.

One of the most common forms of debris floating on the river was the used condom, which the scow's crew called "whitefish," as in, "You, man, net them two whitefish off the port bow!"

On my third day the guy working alongside me netted a human hand. I was absolutely freaked at the sight of it. "That's nothin'" the Captain tried to assure me once again, "wait 'til you hook a baby!"

"I'm outta here," I told him.

"Whaddya mean?" He asked.

"I said, I'm outta here."

Dream Job, by anonymous woman

Once upon a time I was a little girl and all I wanted to be when I grew up was a doctor or a teacher. But instead I have worked in several fast food joints and day cares. I was a teacher's aid at one day care and I learned that kids are funny people. One time, this one little boy stuck a pea up his nose and his mom was picking him up. Everyone wanted her to suck it out. Thinking that was nasty, she turned him over and gave him a few whacks and the pea came popping out. I'm really burnt out on working with little kids and fast food. I wish something different would come along.

In the Army, by anonymous woman

My mom was a lifeguard. I remember once she showed me her pith helmet and lifeguard patches. I wanted to be a lifeguard too. In the army I worked in administration, one of my jobs was finding occupational specialties for soldiers. Once I interviewed a soldier who was a recreation specialist. He told me the code for his specialty was 71G, so I looked it up. I, too, was qualified for that position so I assigned that specialty to myself and finally got an interview with senior personnel in that specialty. It turned out they needed lifeguards at the swimming pool at the post where I was stationed, so I signed up for training. The training was brutal and I was afraid I'd freeze to death before it was over, but I passed and became a lifeguard in Korea. It was wonderful that summer, but the fall was a little strange, using nets to catch the snakes in the water. In the winter they sent me to the gym to issue baseketballs and towels. That was sort of boring and eventually I was needed back in administration, but I'll never forget that summer, wearing my pith helmet and showing off my lifeguard badges, sitting in the tower chair telling people when to get in and out of the pool, yelling at people for running or horseplaying. I had a great tan too.

All the Jobs I Could've Had, by Dilly Scott

I thought about being a nurse when I was about eight, but I am still squeamish. I love animals. I should've become a marine biologist or a disc jockey. I have a second class broadcast license. I sent the renewal money to the FCC. We worked on KPCC at Sylvania Campus. It was fun. I called Dave at KISN and he gave me advice, that was a long time ago. I loved exercise music, I still do. I used to exercise after walking Gram's four and a half miles.

I still want to kiss a dolphin's snout and ask the Lord's blessing, but the first time a spider comes down the wall like in the Brady Bunch I'm out of there. I think I need some more training. I crave that sometimes. I love things with powerful motors too. Maybe it reminds me of a cat purring.

a stranger in the night

2007-11-15T20:26:00.001-08:00

Sometimes I run out of cool ideas of things for people to write about. Tonight I had to consult the mighty internet for ideas and I found this one. (I elaborated on it a little.) I asked everybody to picture their home. Maybe the home they have now, maybe a home they've had in the past, maybe a home they wish to have. Either way, I wanted them to picture a place they liked and felt safe in. Then I asked them to imagine themselves in this home: it's nighttime, almost 11:30, and they're getting ready for bed. They're in their pajamas, they've brushed their teeth, and just as they're about to turn out the lights, there's a knock at the door. They don't have a peep-hole, they can't tell who it is. They go to the door, open it up, and they're face to face with... what? Who? Tell the story of what happens next. Here are the results.

Wolves at the Door, by Anonymous Man

It was more like a scratching than a knocking and seemed to sound through me, or to a place in me I don't go very often. I hesitated, but curiosity won out. My curiosity always wins out.

I opened the door and looked right over them at first: two wolves -- but somehow I wasn't afraid. Not knowing exactly what to say, I just said what came to mind.

"Yes. May I help you?"

"Actually, we're here to help you," the one replied.

"Actually, I think you're beyond help," said the other.

"You're going to help me?" I asked.

"No," the sarcastic wolf said, rolling his eyes. "We just stopped by to observe a human in his native habitat. By the way, you should take out your garbage."

"Now you're frightening me a little," I tried tossing some of his sarcasm right back. "Do you think you could cover your fangs a bit when you talk?"

The friendlier wolf intervened. "My cousin's got some anti-human attitudes," he explained.

"Well, I can't say as I'd blame him. We humans have been hard on you. But I'm not one of those types of people."

"We know who you are," he said calmingly. "You're the one who dreams there's wolves at your door."

Knocked Up, by Greatness

Made it to the big time, living it up in sunny Las Vegas. Nice clothes, cars and a bevy of delicious damsels. The penthouse suite inside the Luxor Hotel and Casino Resort is plushed to expressed satisfaction with a ten year lease.

Everything is going great from day to day or without concern. The City of Roses cannot be missed except for the additional chance to win the mega bucks powerball again.

On a fine and sunny day here in Vegas my retreat is disturbed by a loud knock. Upon opening my door, there stood a police captain. Appropriately inviting the captain inside and offering her a drink, I was duly notified that my great fortune was to end due to an alleged cyber scam that produce a bogus powerball ticket that I was to have collected.

To have lived for a day is better than to have not lived at all.

The Trunk, by 1752

I opened the door and I couldn't believe it! There he was! After 17 years! I thought I got away safely -- new state, new city to hide in -- but no... I couldn't slam the door fast enough. He grabbed my arm and yanked me out of what I thought was a safe place. I had plastic surgery, died my hair -- which had grown out considerably -- my weight had changed -- everything about me was different! I left no trace, or so I thought. I left no track with credit histories -- jobs were all under the table -- I shared no truth about who I really was with anyone!

He carried me to the trunk of his car, blindfolded. We drove for what seemed like hours. Finally we stopped. He left me in there while who knows what he was doing. I heard strange noises -- it sounded like the heavy screeching sounds of the door opening to a dungeon! I felt like I was on fire! It was so dark, I was so scared.

Eventually the trunk opened...

... to be continued!

Untitled, by Anonymous Woman

I was in Sector A in my pajamas. It is mandatory to wear PJs in Sector A because Sector A is a decontamination zone. There isn't much to do in Sector A cause there isn't much there to make decontamination easier. I heard a gentle knocking on my door. The door to my apartment is in the commons. To get to the commons I have to go through Sector C, to do that, I must wrap my feet in plastic and tuck my PJ pants into the plastic bags and not touch anything in Sector C. I jumped up, wrapped my feet and left Sector A, crossed Sector C without touching anything, changed the annoyed expression on my face to cheerful smile and opened the door. To my surprise, it was an alien from another planet. The first thing I noticed was his trouser pant legs tucked into his boots. His trousers were not unlike my PJs. Actually, he was wearing a jump suit. His head was oval shaped and he had large black eyes. He smiled at me with his thin lips and telepathed to me, "I think you are ready to come with us now." I smiled back at him, spun around to grab my e-bag and followed him down the hall.

halloween transformations

2007-10-25T20:00:00.000-07:00

Halloween is just around the corner. Are you excited? I'm excited. I'm THRILLED!!! I love Halloween. One of my favorite things about Halloween is the opportunity to dress up and transform into something new and exciting. I like to use Halloween as an chance to let some of my hidden, inner-self shine through in cool, creative ways.

That was the basic theme underlying tonight's writing suggestion. First I asked everyone to think back and remember their very favorite costumes. I asked them to think about why they chose it, what it felt like to wear, what it looked like. Then I asked them to imagine what would have happened if they'd gone home at the end of the night and found that they couldn't take the costume off! What would have happened if they had actually transformed into the object of their costume? Here's what they wrote.

Life Is a Little Different Now, by Anonymous Man

Life is a little different now that I'm a gorilla. First thing was I had to redecorate my apartment: heavy ropes hold up a tire swing now -- the couch is gone. I tossed my bed out, too. I just sleep on the floor. Damn mattress had bedbugs anyway, and the Orkin man is afraid to come into my space now. I heard him say to my building manager, "Hey man, my contract is just for insects. I don't do apes."

I kept my tv, but since my IQ is much lower now, I had to switch to Fox News.

I'm going to register to vote.

I like Mr. Bush.

Of course, I'm a vegetarian. All those cans of Chile Con Carne I got from the food bank I use as dumbells to keep up my strength. Today I learned how to open cartons of soymilk. I can peel bananas like you wouldn't believe.

I can still write but I need a fatter pen for my fingers. Did I tell you I like Mr. Bush?

Halloween Costume, by Anonymous Woman

I painted my face like a "day of the dead" mask I'd seen on a wall. It was black with sharp, white teeth from ear to ear. After the party, I tried to wash it off, but it didn't seem to be coming off. Weary, I went to bed, figured I'd work on it when I woke up the next morning.

The next morning I woke up, psyched myself up for what I'd have to face in the mirror, and proceeded to the bathroom. I was unprepared for what stared back at me. I didn't have black make-up on my skin, my skin was black. Those weren't painted teeth on my face, that was my huge, frightening mouth with shark-like teeth. I had been transformed.

I gazed down at my large, closed hands. I had actually become a monster. I could never fit into society again, I'd have to eke out some kind of living in the darkness, shadows. My life as a human was over. I'd have to rethink everything I knew about living in this world while hardly being a part of it. I had some camping gear, I'd move out of my apartment and set up a camp deep in the forest, no doubt become a legend like sasquatch. Slowly I raised my eyes back to the mirror, hoping it was just a bad dream. It wasn't.

Fairy Godmother, By Anonymous Woman #2

One of the Halloween's I cam remember, I dressed up like a fairy godmother. My mom made the costume and used a piece of wire for the wand and it had sparkling silver and pink strings. I had a long dress with a big slip under it. All I can remember is a lot of sparkles and colors.

As a Fairy Godmother I would visit all the children of the world who needed good parents and safe-secure homes. I would turn all the homeless, abusive and plain bad parents into the kind of parents every child needs. Loving, secure, happy of course, and put them all in homes with big yards and pets that they can love and take care of.

I would make sure they had plenty of food in their homes. Then I would look for all the children who are real sick and in hospitals and homes and make them all well and healthy and happy. I'd make a world of all happy, healthy, smiling, laughing children.

passing away

2007-09-27T20:25:00.000-07:00

Recently, we lost a member of our staff here at the Oasis. She worked on-call here and had only been here a few times, but enough for us to get to know her and like her. And suddenly, out of the blue, she passed away.

It's always a shock when someone relatively young, who seems relatively healthy passes away like that. That's been on our minds here at the Oasis, so tonight in group I suggested that we write about death. I was a little nervous suggesting this topic because I was afraid it would seem like a downer or possibly upset people. But I did it anyway, and people had some really great things to share. Hope you enjoy it.

My Mom, by Anonymous Woman

My mom died three and a half years ago. She had emphysema and in 1997 had half of her lung removed. She told us after the surgery that she would probably have only five years left. No one wanted to believe that, of course, but five and a half years later she passed away. Myself and my husband were on one side of the bed and my little brother and his wife were on the other side. I was holding her hand when she took her last breath and passed on. I held her hand for about five minutes, then I let go. After I walked out of her room, I fainted and ended up in the the E.R. The doctor said this kind of thing happens when you're close to a person. I like to think that she is in heaven looking down on us and smiling sometimes, and shaking her head at other times. I also believe that spirits can come and visit us in our sleep.

Grief and Eagles, by Anonymous Man

My brother didn't make it out to the canyon with me the last two times I invited him; things just have a way of coming-up, of surfacing, and we postpone our pleasures until next time. I finally brought him out there, but only in the form of ashes. My brother who had always seemed so alive, who'd always dreamed of flying; who, in fact, had just begun pilot lessons but hadn't yet got his wings.

The canyon I've retreated to so many times sits in a central Oregon and is eight miles long, a quarter-mile wide and three hundred feet deep. The Crooked River snakes its way through the canyon's floor. It's the home of lizards, coyotes, redband trout, and lots of birds: magpie, ravens, cliffswallows and especially golden eagles.

Once I had a mystical experience there. In the hottest part of the afternoon, I peered over the edge of the very highest part of the canyon wall, and watched eagles ride the thermals, but watched them from above, looking down at their backs as they slowly circled. It might not sound like much, but it was one of those moments where the world cracks open, or, our normal way of percieving cracks open, and one sees a world of near-indescribable perfection and beauty. Call it a kind of grace. Then, after a time, the world reassembles itself and appears the way it always has. But something has changed. Something deep on the inside.

I hiked up the switchback trail to this place of grace, my backpack holding my brother's ashes, a knife, and a big piece of native salmon. I headed for the eagle's perch, a ledge about two feet wide and five feet across, marked only by their droppings and the bones of animals they've eaten. I cut the salmon into bite-sized pieces and placed them on the ledge, but only after rubbing some of my brother's ashes on the underside of each piece. Then I hiked back a couple hundred yards and waited to see if the eagles would accept this offering, this sacrament.

It didn't take them long. They see everything. Yes, I fed my brother to the eagles. It was hard for me to watch. But he has his wings now, and good ones. Real good ones.

My Brother, by The Captain

My brother died in 2001. He was 20 years old. Seems surprising when someone dies so young. His death wasn't a surprise, though. He'd been sick all his life really, one thing after another, and then there was the last thing and the doctors said "there's nothing we can do" and my dad and stepmother took him home and that was that. We waited. We didn't know how long he had or how exactly his death would look, all we knew was it was coming.

Turned out he had two full months. And he was surprisingly healthy all the way up to the last week. Then he couldn't eat anymoe. In the last two days he couldn't even drink. He'd swallow a thimble full of water and then vomit up a litre of fluid, we didn't even know where it was coming from.

The day before he died, he wanted to go out on the front porch. I sat out there with him awhile -- someone was always with him by then, we never left him alone -- and I watched him. I tried to talk to him some, but it was like he couldn't hear me, like I wasn't even there. I watched his eyes as he stared out across the valley and realized he wasn't looking out at all -- he was looking in, turning slowly inward, like what was outside was inside him as well, like the things inside were all that mattered. It was really amazing, watching his slow exit through a door deep inside himself.

I was not surprised to hear at 6 o'clock the next morning that he was gone. "We lost him," is what my grandmother said to wake me. And I'm no longer afraid to approach that final exit myself, knowing that I'll simply sink inside myself until there's nothing left of me in this world but my empty shell.

at long last!

2007-09-06T20:24:00.000-07:00

Writing group has been on a summer hiatus of sorts. It wasn't exactly planned, it just happened. But now we're back in effect and ready to update this here blog. Today I suggested that everyone write about a meaningful experience they had in nature. Here's what they wrote. Enjoy!

Fuzzy -- by Dilly Scott

Teddy and I walked out one morning. It was fully daylight and there was a little orange and white kitty that really did not belong at the Lambert's. It was the last nice weekend at the coast that October and I know they were anxious to go. We had two kitties but I was platonically in love and I asked him and he handed me the kitten. It was about four months old, maybe a little more, but not much. I just prayed it would be ok because sometimes Teddy pulled very hard on his leash, but he was a furry shepherd and thought we all belonged to him. Anyway, I snuggled him and put him on my dad's chest because he was still sacked out and he could not resist the little guy and there was no question about our keeping him. We wrangled a little about the name and then settled on Fuzzy.

Naturalism, by: Greatness

Many aspects of life will contrast with the artificial. Growing and learning will have been a hand in hand experience. It is not so available that a specific or unique situation should be recollected. Yet, I will share of an instance that is to allow for one to recognize of a simplistic fashion I have utilized to perceive of a non-artifical interpretation of life on an even and consistent flow necessary to maintain relevance and purpose.

The physical instance of being of healthy and functioning society or expecting to remain of such has required that any rogue opposition will have little effect to counter your goals or expectations at large when you know that simply it was not meant that your being should be subjected to trespass or harm only to satisfy the idle interloper who is not capable of meeting or exceeding your own interpretation of naturalist advantage.

Nature, by Anonymous Woman

One time when I was camping, I was like 21, and a group of us from job corps went to camp. They all started to yell for me to get my flashlight out, they were saying we were being attacked by big bobcats. I was like "no we're not" so I got my flashlight and it was a bunch of racoons! So we got up and fed them hot dogs and marshmallows. They enjoyed the hot dogs but the marshmallows were a different story. They were getting all sticky and didn't know what to do. We eventually went to sleep and the next day there was a mess with what the racoons were originally getting into.

long time, no see

2007-07-05T21:49:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the super-long lapse. I have no good excuses, I guess I've just been so busy around the Oasis playing skip-bo and cleaning the kitchen, I haven't had time to sit down at the old computer and update this thing.

Last night was the fourth of July and we here at the Oasis had a blast. Lots of folks went down to the waterfront to watch the fireworks, while some of us snuck up to the third floor and watched them out the window. It was pretty cool.

On the heels of all that fun, I asked the folks in group tonight to write about their most memorable summer experience. Here's what they wrote. Enjoy!

The Fourth, By Andy

Last night was comparatively one of the best fourths I have had. We got to the waterfront early enough to find a good spot on the grass. We were all in a good mood, and all the people around us were as well.

Very relaxing, lots of laughing and joking around. Meeting new people, just all around good times. Lots of people watching.

The Summer Imposition, By Greatness

Summertime is considered one of the most favored times of the year, mainly, this really held true when, being in school, it definitely meant more leisure and personal activity. Since I have been on my own and self-sufficient (or without direct support from my parents) a memorable time or instance has yet to happen.

Indulging some of life's basic and common activities, such as cycling, swimming, or simply maxing and relaxing with the preferred consumption of the bountiful fruits summertime tends to proffer. I cannot complain thus far, given an immediate reflection of the fireworks spectacle held on the waterfront. Many different people and walks of life and more so since all other times I've attended the occasion.

So to all summers to come: may they be heartfelt and fun.

Rafting, By Anonymous Woman

One of my favorite activities during the summer is rafting down the Deschutes River and going through Box Car Canyon. It's one of the wildest parts of the Deschutes River. As you go through the day, it's not uncommon to see bald eagles and other birds of prey. The last trip I took was a couple of years ago with my husband, I think it was summer of 2001.

We took a guided trip that included lunch and in the morning part of the trip there was a place where everyone could jump out and body surf the rapids. I was the last one back in the boat and it was hard to get me in. I started to float underneath the boat and my husband had ahold of my life jacket. The pull of the current and the pull of him started making me freak out and so I said "Let me go!" But he wouldn't. Then the guide came along and started jerking on the other side of my life jacket, telling me to kick and so I did. The next thing I knew, I was in the bottom of the boat and everyone else was in and ready to continue the ride.

One of the best places to ride is in the front, that's where you see the most action and get the wettest. By the end of the day you feel like you've had enough of the water and sunshine, but it makes you want to come back for more. And also about Box Car Canyon, this rapid is so much fun it makes you think your boat is going to flip and there's a photographer that sits on a rock above the area taking pictures of people coming through. You can buy the pictures later. This is one of my favorite places to go during the summer, however it's not uncommon to walk away at the end of the day ready for a restful night of sleep and wearing a sunburn.

joyful joy

2007-05-28T19:12:00.000-07:00

Sorry I haven't updated in awhile. Things have been busy at the Oasis. But here are stome stories from last week's group. The suggestion made by one of our participants was for people to write a story about the best thing they could think of. I expanded the suggestion to cover best memories and best fantasies. Here's what they came up with:

The Birth of my First Grandchild, by Anonymous Woman

When I was told about my youngest son's wife being pregnant, I was just thrilled and overcom ewith joy. My first grandchild!

When my son's wife was six months along, I went shopping crazy! I bought over $300.00 worth of baby things. Bassanet, crib, changing table, stroller, car seat, two baby carriers, one for the front and one for the back, over $50.00 in clothes and diapers, lotions, bath soap, baby powder, diaper rash cream, bottles and nipples, powdered milk, juices, bowl and spoons, cereal, blankets and sheets for the crib and bassonet, diaper pail, etc, etc.

Oct 30, 1993, a day before Halloween, she went into labor. I know the people on the labor and delivery floor from working there before. So I was able to be in the delivery room. I got to hold my first grandson and it was awesome!

Memory, by Dilly Scott

One of the sweetest things I remember was that Teddy, Kiki and I went out early one October morning and it was the last nice weekend of the summer in 1990. I loved the kitten at first sight. His tail was short. He was about three and a half months old. I was going to put Teddy back long enough to see about him, but Mr. Lambert handed me Fuzzy saying they wanted him safe so they could go to the beach. He was the third kitty, so I put him on my dad's tummy and he woke up to a sweet, cute, orange and white face. We argued a little, but it was just over his name. My dad was delighted. So we had Fuzzy for two years. I miss him yet. He was cuddly.

The Power of Lonliness, by Andi

My fantasy would be to have someone who cared for me, to hug me and want to be with me. Then we would win the lottory and just enjoy each other for the rest of our lives, with a house full of animals of course.

I am severely tired of being alone. For some reason lately the "S" word has been running through my mind, but I know that would be wrong and extremely selfish. We have to stick it out no matter how bad things get.

Why do we live in such a superficial society? I wonder why "superficial" is an actual, existing word? Why does it exist? I guess it's here to give us something to endure. Some kind of test.

fantasy planet

2007-05-10T20:36:00.000-07:00

Today someone in group suggested we write about our fantasy planet -- our idea of the perfect planet to live on. Here's what everyone came up with.

A Fantasy Planet, by Anonymous Woman

My fantasy planet would be the Planet of Love, Venus. The buildings would be one large community, with miles in both directions, with several floors and a couple of shopping malls, with everything from groceries to building materials, gift shops, etc. We could have picture T.V.s and computers.

Because it is the Planet of Love, we would have many singles places to go to. Plus, several places that would hook you up with your ideal mate. Then we'd have homes and houses on large acreages so you can expand as your family grows.

Planet, by Murphee

The first time I saw the turqoise hills of our new home, I was speechless. Having spent five years in cryosleep was all worthwhile.

The sky was a distinctive lavendar as it was what we were told was mid-day. Looking around, I saw vegetation in all colors, some that reminded me of Earth and others that were totally different.

One of my fellow travelers interrupted my "sight seeing," saying, "You can see it all later. We have to set up camp or we sleep out doors." He was right so I started hauling supplies and grouping them where I was told.

After a long day of set up, we all stopped to eat and assign quarters. The unmarrieds or unattached personnel went to the dorms. The marrieds made due with rooms, sometimes sharing with supplies until we could build our colony up to individual units.

While eating, I noticed the sky had become a beautiful shade of purple, darkening as the sun set. Then I saw the two moons. It was so different than a science fiction movie depiction. Very hard for me to put into words. One was full and the other was half full. This, I found out, was normal -- they would very rarely both be full at the same time.

Yawning and stretching I ended my day by heading for the dorm and bed.

Living on a Planet, by Anonymous Woman Two

If I could live on a different planet, it would be a planet with no crimes and just love everywhere, everyone would get along and be happy there would be trees and rivers and lakes everywhere. There would be no illnesses and just harmony. People would be free to move about anywhere and anyway they want. If you wanted to go somewhere and didn't want to spend a lot of time getting there all you would have to do is think yourself there. There would be no pain or sadness in this place. There would also be lots of wild animals and horses.

Blessing, by Dilly Scott

The Lord guided them to the Planet. They planted a flag with a new symbol: a horse and a dolphin. They had pot luck and singing. The planet was healed again. The creatures gathered round the water's edge.

The little flying flitters were a fun way to discover more than any machine could tell them. They were small and fast. They were all supposed to be able to cover several light years if necessary for any return trip.

They held hands in a circle and said the Lord's Prayer.

A pegasus landed near Douglas's feet. Dilly held out her hand at it whinnied softly and Dougless nodded to her. She took three apples and climbed gently aboard and the huge, lovely, light-colored animal flew away with her.

long time gone

2007-04-26T22:39:00.000-07:00

I'd like to start by saying that I am SOOOOO SORRY that it has taken me so long to update this here blog. Our fearless leader, the Captain's captain abandoned ship about a month ago, and I've been in mourning ever since. Weeping and gnashing my teeth, wondering who the new boss is going to be, and I just couldn't bring myself to get on this blog, which was the old boss's pride and joy.

But all that changes tonight. Here are the awesome writings from tonight's awesome group. Enjoy!

My Self-Esteem, by Anonymous Woman

It is weird how a pair of teeth could help your self esteem get better. After I got my teeth, I look in the mirror and just have to put make-up on and do my hair. It has been years since I've thought that I was pretty and have a great smile (which I do a lot now).

I kind of forgot how to put on mascara without getting it all in my eyes. I try to pay attention to what I wear. But since the day I got my teeth, my self esteem has been very good. I really do feel a lot happier, and my depression doesn't seem to be as bad now.

I am moving forward with my life now, with a lot of positivity. Thank you God!

Rumors, by Andy

I wish I could be with no one but animals.

My tolerence for people in general has diminished severely. Why do people attempt to start rumors about people? I think it is the lowest thing a person can do, especially if the rumor is a lie!

I just want to retaliate in a severe manner! Just knowing that the general population knows the rumor isn't true doesn't seem to be enough. My head is going ninety miles and hour thinking of ways to retaliate! Hopefully tomorrow I will have calmed down.

The Baroness, by Dilly Scott

Dilly bought a new paper and looked up. Could it be him? It looked like him. His sense of humour was obvious in the way he walked. No he wasn't clownish, he was distinguished and dignified. "Don't pay over $500 for her." She curtsied like an idiot and he got into a cute sedan and, after connecting his shoulder harness, waved goodbye.

Dilly was late for lunch and bought was she called a construction worker's special: a burrito, coffee and something with jalapenos. She saluted them as she went in the deli and they were glad not to feel in the way of those civic minded bus riders. Dilly turned to the movie section. It was interesting, but not what she was looking for. Ah, this time she'd try a cat and dog show. Whatever it took.

She'd lost 26 pounds and counting, walking a dog was what she wanted. It was wonderful to hang out with animal-lovers at the show and the coffeeshop. The light changed and Picadilly Square welcomed one more person.

She could curl up in the padded basket contented. The flat suited her as did the dear old barrister Dilly worked for. He was glad of some company occasionally especially her new boyfriend they met in the park. The Baroness took over, all 12 pounds of her. The Pom faxed her paw prints to the abbey and they had a wonderful season.

long time, no write

2007-03-08T21:24:00.000-08:00

Sorry I didn't update last week. We were short-staffed here on the island and we didn't have a chance to do writing group. But tonight we made up for it. I asked everyone to write about their experiences learning to drive. As usual, they looked at me like I was nuts. And, as usual, some of them wrote really cool things about my suggested topic, and some wrote really cool things about other stuff. Here you go.

Not to Drive, by Anonymous Woman

When I was 15 and 16 and was supposed to be excited about driving, I wasn't. I had my cousin die from hitting a tree and his head went through the mirror. That's when I found out that your brain is pink. About the same time, I had a friend who was decapitated. She ended up going underneath an 18-wheeler. Then I was put into several homes and didn't get the chance to learn to drive. But because of this experience, I decided that I didn't care about driving. Before my mom died, she was determined to teach me to drive, so I got my license at the age of 33. I still haven't driven that much but it's still nice to have the thing. I have always been scared to drive and have never really wanted to do it. The last time I drove, I had to drive home after my husband was arrested. I still don't remember how I got home. I drove down the freeway though.

Learning to Drive, by Dilly Scott

I enjoyed the student English teacher, teaching me how to drive. I was awful, with absolutely no experience except playing with the steering wheel of the '53 Buick Special. Pat drove up Mt. Tabor and I drove down, that is after I went around and around the lamp posts at a church between the 82nd and Division light and the viaduct the ladies fought so hard for, to protect the children crossing the street. I didn't really go for my dad's mint green LTD. I like "Geordi" because it was my first car. Horrible old brown Dodge, I remember fondly. It was shining and nice that Easter when Teddy and I kept going back and forth to be the first person with $500 for it. It took a lot of fixing but it ran. I saw it recently. I took it to the beach. The "Sisho" I loved so much. I wanted it to have a good home, a song. It had 418 horsepower so I guess it was like having a big morgan horse. It made my heart sing. I kissed it goodbye and I want another 409 or 418 A.S.A.P. I'd be like the guy in the other song and kiss my next car goodnight.

It's Time, by Myriah

It's time for me to begin
another chapter of my life.
I didn't choose this for myself, and
I know I'll face some strife.
No matter how I feel about it,
it's time for a new journey.
It's time for me to shine and
display what I've been learning.
I am scared, hesitant,
even vulnerable.
I know the absence of my Oasis
will be quite noticeable.
No matter how I look at it, this
process must take place
I need to see a 24 year old
when I look at myself in the face.
Life is constantly changing,
nothing ever stays the same.
I just need to find a niche,
now that I know how to play the game.
No sense in hanging on
to the youth I never had --
It's not healthy, nor wrong,
neither good nor bad.
So I guess I can settle down now,
for I know just what I'm facing.
Simply moving on,
not forgetting or erasing...
And, it's time.

Frustrated at the Doctor's, by Andy

I was in the doctor's office for a VERY LONG TIME today when this couple brings with them their three small children. So the children began to play in the play area which is among the rest of the patients waiting along with me. SCREAM!!! This went on the whole time I was waiting. I almost fell completely apart. I was almost in tears because my patience was growing thin. I have nothing against children. I was very pissed at the parents because they seemed to be oblivious to the situation.

spring has not yet sprung

2007-02-22T21:02:00.000-08:00

But everybody's ready for it. Here are some thoughts on the coming of spring.

Spring! What is it I Like About Spring, by Anonymous Woman

Spring is cleaning, birth of beauty, and music from the little ones who are born to sing.

Spring is a perfect name for the season, because everything is springing up. The birds and other baby animals spring up.

Then you have the colors springing up from trees, plants, flowers, and God even gives color in the sky from rainbows, or the sun shining across the ocean that comes up with many different colors of red, orange, yellow across the sky.

Plus time, you have to spring ahead which your clocks.

Gardens growing vegetables and bushes growing berries of many colors. Spring is a very beautiful season everything all new again.

What it means to me is a new and beautiful attitudes and feelings!!

Spring, Anonymous Man

February is almost over. Spring will be here soon. I'm looking forward to the warmer weather (and even the warmer rain!). I enjoy all the seasons equally but spring is when everything starts to reawaken. The flowers come into bloom once again and the birds can be heard trilling their songs to all that care to listen and enjoy. The cloudy skies start to clear, the children and seniors once again seek pleasant comfort in the out of doors. The young (and older) lover find surcease in long walks, reflecting the season in their smiling faces. Spring introduces summer.

Spring Time!

When I was a little girl, I was put in foster homes, but what I can remember is tulips. I played outside.

I also had asthma, so I couldn't really enjoy everything everyone else could. Easter in the city of K. Falls, one of the boys was in Boy Scouts, so we made a Boy Scout camping trip with them. We set up camp, roasted hot dogs, and all that. We had breakfast in the camp lodge. We'd go to bed, wake in the morning to hung Easter eggs with our Easter baskets.

Spring vacation from school was cool. I remember it woudl cloud up really good and the storm drains in the street would back up. The kids in the neighborhood would all run out and play in the streets with each other and just get soaking wet. Parents came home and we all talked about our day, soon we kids were fed and off to bed. Laughter, tears, fears, and I'm still here.

Death to Heaven, by Dreamer

living on the souls of the dead,
tower of heavenly wonders
amongst the chain of the
living dead. the dead
don't know they're dead but
their souls are the feast
of the living. only confusion
from thought to thought of the
barely existing dead being
feasted upon by the souls
of the living, feeling
powerful, meaningful emotions.
a spirit rising from the dead
continuation to the living
here on earth to death of
heavenly wonders to await those
worthy of feasting on the dead.

what are you proud of?

2007-02-15T22:39:00.000-08:00

Last week's assignment was to do with regret. I asked the group to think of the things in their lives they've regretted and to write about those things, to say what they need to say about those experiences, to make apologies if necessary. I haven't posted those yet, but I will. This week, to balance that out, I asked everyone to think of things they're proud of. I got a lot of different responses and here they are.

Being Grateful, by Ishibon

I'm Grateful to my Higher Power
I'm Grateful to Grandfather Rocks
I'm Grateful to Mother Earth
The Sun, Moon, Stars, the Different Seasons.
The Animals, the Deer, Elk, Salmon,
the different Roots, Berries, the Hide
We're able to make Our Moccasins,
Buckskin Outfits
The Eagle's feathers to make our
Fans we use so gracefully when Dance.
The Hide we use for our Drums.
Each New Dawn and Evening we've survived.
I'm grateful for geting my GED in '83.
I'm also grateful for the Diploma
I received for my Alcohol Treatment.
I'm Grateful for getting as many
Jobs as I have had.
Remember Grant,
Remember Lee,
The Hell with them
Remember me!

There Are Some Things in Life that Make Me Mad or Glad, by Anonymous Woman

Things that make me mad: injustice done to anyone, people hurting other people and getting away with it, guys devaluing women, thinking they're better than a woman is. People hurting animals. People taking advantage of others. For instance, my insurance saying I don't have insurance, but then taking money out of my account anyway.

Things that make me glad: people getting along with one another. Generosity, true and loving, no strings attached. A warm spring day when you can feel the warmth and the sun and see the blossoms blooming and the birds singing.

Depending on the issue you choose to pay attention to, it will affect you, either you'll be glad or mad, or mad or glad. You can change your outlook but it can be difficult. What you can do is, look at your attitude and see what your focusing on and then try and focus on the glad items. You can also flip it in reverse. It's ok to be both glad and mad or mad and glad. It's ok to feel these feelings. It's what you do with these feelings that matters.

My Dream Last Night, by Dreamer

Well, I won't tell you what I had in the back of my car, but it was worth $200,000. Then the cops were after me. I was driving, going over 110mph. I came upon a cliff and then went over it, the cops stopped behind me. I started to freak out and almost woke up, when I looked and saw a blue, flashing light that said "push to boat." I thought "how convenient" since there was water below me.

So I pushed it then the car turned into a boat. I landed on the water. Then I got thirsty in my dream, and boom: in came a root beer. I saw land and then looked down and saw a button that said "push to car." I pushed and it turned back into a car, just in time. I went home and the cops showed up.

The house suddenly turned into a burrito. The cops didn't know what to think, so they left. At first I was watching it like a movie, but suddenly I was inside the burrito. I started eating it. I could taste the beans. Then the house-burrito turned back into a bouse and I was still inside. I looked around and saw everything was normal, but there were bites out of the stairwell.

Then, suddenly, when I walked out the front door, there were ducks, sheep, groundhogs, chickens, pigs, cows, bunnies and much, much more. I'm still not sure what that was about. The pig spoke, "hey you!" I said "What?" And it said "Dreamer." Then a lighter voice called "Dreamer?" And I woke up and there was my friend, "Dreamer, what do you want to eat?"

How Will I Be, by Mavis Wykopf

Before was crisis and trauma
Now more calm
Before was highs and lows
Now more calm
Before was a roller coaster
Now more calm

Although I'm still on a ride, it's new! A new way to live has been handed to me on a silver platter. I've worked hard for it but I never felt as though I deserved anything good. Everything was used, hand-me-down, faded.

Things are brighter. I've heard of a "new lease on life" from people who have failed at suicide. I'm not so sure.

accord

2007-02-01T22:07:00.000-08:00

It's a full moon tonight and it shows. Things here at the Oasis are tumultuous, but we still manage to pull through. Last week I had some technical difficulties when I tried to update the ol' blog, but that's more or less worked out now. Here are some of tonight's gems from writing group. Enjoy.

Life's Accord, by Greatness

Making a change for self-improvement to date requires a unique assortment of resloves when, due to many arbitrary challenges maintained by forces of questionable interests, life bears no relevant texture, lest through inadvertance one would cater to the afflictives and thus forfeit an overall and timely purpose. Since the human experience can only be of what the spirit wills, projective instance cannot be without some frills. No direct intent to rhyme is presented, yet it will only reflect truth in the area of being total within and fitfully capable of expressing valid potential outwardly from the properly preserved point of being. It is alleged that life is too short or that one can only do so much, therefore, setting it altogether to make it all worth-while can only be achieved through a set commitment held true to one's exact purpose or desire. So keeping it real can be such a great deal or doing just what you like or whatever you feel.

What I'm Looking Forward To, by Andi

I'm looking forward to getting some one-on-one counseling. I feel like I am always having to defend myself. I am constantly on the defensive.

I'm tired of fighting. I want to work, but I'm not longer sure of what I can do. I need something to fill the time.

I try really hard to think; whatever is meant to be will be.

I'm tired of people taking advantage of me. But I think I'm getting stronger in that respect.

The fact that I am getting older and uglier is really taking a toll on me. I have had image issues all my life, but now those issues are becoming more intense.

I keep wondering if I am the person people perceive me to be.

Looking Forward, By Dilly Scott

Looking forward to a peaceful place where I can sleep until dawn or noon and have a furry friend and no one to holler for beer or anything at 3am. I can open the door when I'm ready, have a dead-bolt, and read the Psalms to the cat, have some music and dream of more.

I do not feel too old to dream.

I miss the "strawberry roan." I want to look forward to making new friends. I feel as if I should find a way to fix something first. No more pussy-footing around. I do want to read the Psalms and the Song of Solomon.

dealing

2007-01-18T20:52:00.000-08:00

All people everywhere are dealing with all sorts of stuff. Lots of times, people come to group just bursting to write about the stuff they're dealing with. Today was no exception. Here are just two examples of the things on people's minds.

Fault and Forgiveness, by Mavis Wykopf

As a child, I was taught to turn the other cheek. In essence, to forgive. As I grew older, I began to learn about fault. I didn't do it, it's her fault. It's not my fault, it was raining.

As a teenager, whether real or perceived, everything was my fault! My mom was mentally ill due to a car accident and there was no one else around to blame. After a few years of this, I believed it to be true. I walked around on egg shells, I tried my best to be good, I tried to never go anywhere as she would become upset! I lived with the idea that everything was and would remain my fault for the next 30 years.

As an adult, I realized I had given myself a lot of power. Everything is my fault!?! Rain, snow, wind, earthquakes, typhoons, no less!

I am still coming to understand the nature of fault. I now know that everything is not my fault. I feel that I have responsibility for my actions, but there are some things that I have no control over. I want to be angry about having a mentall illness. But I have no control over that. I want to blame myself for not being able to keep a job. That is a big part of my illness and I have no control over that. I want to blame myself for losing my house, because there is no one else to blame.

As an adult witha mental illness, I am coming to understand the nature of forgiveness. The greatest level of that understanding will come when I forgive myself!

Anger, by Myriah

Tonight, I feel angry. Irritated and annoyed. I don't know why because I had a good day. But right now I am pissy. I don't have any direction on what to write about and I'm hungry. I have a dull headache and have been experiencing muscle spasms in my toe all day. I feel like being a bitch! Just find a way to release some of this tension I have. I wish I had a way to do tai-bo.

I'm doing very good at turning my anger into laughter tonight, but I really wish I could just explode! Like I almost want someone to start shit with me just so I can open a can like Jackee Chan! I feel just in being angry. After all, I have a lot to be angry about. But anger is so very touchy with me. Very sensitive territory. I can't be just angry about everything. Because I know that anger is a secondary emotion -- always blanketing something deeper. Blah, blah, blah!

I don't want to know what's underneath my anger! I just want to be pissy and have that be okay! But again, I must be careful. I'm not like other people and I know that. I am aware of how dangerous unresolved anger is for me. I have not forgotten about the creature I became when anger was my name.

when first they met

2007-01-18T20:32:00.000-08:00

One of our writing group participants, in her own time, likes to write romances. Tonight she wrote a quick one for group and here it is.

The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship, by Dilly Scott

He was as handsome as the car he drove, a 1971 Ford Mustang with 409 horse power, the color was a shiny, candy apple red. He found her buying a painting, two mugs, a thermos, and a huge stuffed animal at the beach. He bought her a couple pieces of seafoam candy and she bought him a fish dinner. They walked along a mile and a half distance path and he showed her a bird's nest. She picked up a stray feather and he put it in her hair. They rode all the carnival rides and fell in love over a boat ride the next day. They were married just before the fourth of July and raised two kids, two nephews, four cats, three dogs and a skunk.

inspirational

2007-01-11T22:38:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, regardless of my cool writing ideas, folks come to group with lots of great ideas of their own. Tonight, three different people wrote three different, remarkable pieces about their own lives and experiences, and here they are.

Dead or Alive, by Mavis Wykopf

This week I had the unique experience of having to prove that I am alive! The situation was no doubt unusual, but it caused me to stop and ponder the essence of my existence.

What does it mean to be alive? I think mankind has been perplexed by that very question since the dawn of time.

Alive, of course, means breathing, having a heartbeat, blood coursing through veins, brain activity, etc. I feel being "alive" is much more than that. There should be feelings and beauty and friendship and love! When we as beings are deprived of these things, whether by internal or external forces, our sense of being can be altered and consequently our perception of life and death can be skewed. Life being a gift can seem more like a curse. Death being the end can seem more like a new beginning.

I have a somewhat unique perspective on the issue of life and death. I once enjoyed my life and lived it to the fullest. I then began to question whether life was a gift or not. I fell so far down in the pit of despair that I attempted to take my own life. I truly believed death would be a new beginning.

I am still struggling with the concept of life being a gift. I have lost so much. There is still so much pain and guilt and regret. Every day is a test that I feel I am failing. I hope to succeed one day but that day feels very far away.

I am breathing. I have a heartbeat. I have blood coursing through my veins. By definition, I am alive. Some days it's not so clear.

My Name is Meth, by Myriah

My name is Meth. I destroy homes and tear families apart.
I'll take your children and that's just the start.
I'm more costly than diamonds, more precious than gold;
the sorrow I bring is one to behold.
If you need me, remember, I'm easily found.
I live all around you -- in schools and in town.
I live with the rich, I live with the poor,
I live down the street and maybe next door.
I'm made in a lab, but not like you think.
I can be made right under the sink,
in your child's closet or even the woods.
If this scares you to death, well it certainly should.
I have many names, but there's one you know best;
I'm sure you have heard of me, my name is Crystal Meth.
My power is awesome, just try me, you'll see.
Once you do, you'll never break free.
Just try me once and I might let you go.
"Try" me too often and I'll own your soul.
When I possess you, you'll steal and you'll lie.
You'll do what you have to just to get high.
The crimes you commit for my narcotic charms,
will be worth the pleasure you'll feel in your arms.
You'll lie to your mother and steal from your dad.
When you see their tears, you should feel really sad.
But you'll forget your morals and how you were raised.
I'll be your conscience, I'll teach you my ways.
I take kids from parents and parents from kids.
I turn people from God and separate friends.
I'll take everything from you -- your looks and your pride;
I'll be with you always, right by your side.
You'll give up everything, your family, your home,
your friends, your money, then you'll be alone.
I'll take and I'll take 'til you have nothing to give.
When I'm finished with you, you'll be lucky to live.
If you try me, be warned: this is no game.
If given the chance, I'll drive you insane.
I'll ravish your body and control your mind.
I'll own you completely, your soul will be mine.
I'll give you nightmares while lying in bed
and you will hear voices from inside your head.
The sweats, the shakes, the visions you'll see --
I just want you to know, these are all gifts from me.
You knew this would happen. Many times you were told.
But you challenged my power, you chose to be bold.
You could have said "no" and just walked away.
If you could live that day over, now what would you say?
Now that you've met me, what will you do?
Will you try me or not? It's all up to you.
I can bring you more misery than any words can tell.
Come. Take my hand. Let me lead you to Hell.

Letting My Guard Down, by Ramona

Talked to J today. It was my second time to talk to him. Because I want so much to get all the help I can, to see some kind of life in the future, and start having feelings of caring about myself. I want to be able to feel again. I want to be able to be happy and active and caring and not be so defensive whenever anyone talks to me or asks me questions. I feel people don't care, they just want to get enough information about me so they can use it to hurt me or manipulate me. I am hurting, scared, and confused and I have to learn to let my guard down with certain people, to be able to trust those who are here to really help me, and be there to help me understand some of my feelings. I want to see a light at the end of the darkness. I don't know, I just want to be able to feel joy, happiness, security. And it's hard to do when I don't let my guard down because I feel everyone is out there to get me, hurt me... I don't know... I'm still fighting.

arguments

2007-01-11T20:51:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I think up really awesome ideas for writing group prompts. Tonight, for example, I suggested that people think back to a really bad argument they've had in the past, and imagine how it could've gone differently. Then I suggested they rewrite their argument and make it come out like they wished it had. I thought it was a good idea. But everybody just frowned at me. Oh well. I thought it was a total failure, but it at least gave one person an idea. Here's what she wrote.

Cloud of Dust, by Dilly Scott

Dilly was angry. The "Schloss Queen" had had the nerve to show up at her door. She'd lost her temper and called her a dishwater blonde and a "camp follower." "And I hope that's all you get." Dilly regretted saying it, but she couldn't shake the camp follower so she made plans for more and took a class in independent trucking and became the swamper to a guy who believed in coffee and pineapple but not condominiums or having gastronomical problems from eating chili and sweet and sour chicken in one day. He taught her all kinds of security measures and cherished her, helped the fruit growers, the dolphins, seals and fishermen.

Dilly sent her a Bible and candy at her aunt's house and apologized. As she was leaving town there was a notice with a job for a potato truck driver -- "Meet me in church." They transported precious cargo of Bibles, Torahs, and book marks. The summer rally left the Schloss Queen in a cloud of dust but the barbeque was tremendous and the music awe inspiring.

knights in shining armour

2007-01-04T20:56:00.000-08:00

I Love Him Still, By Dilly Scott

I love him still, in his shredded tuxedo or his lovely blue shirt. Wearing his armour or not. He's still my knight. I never wanted to share him, just tell someone how absolutely knight-like he was.

Him being unhappy or hurt was not to be thought of. He reminded me of a giant panda, a knight out of a book, the statue of liberty.

He made me squeak, he wasn't just admired. I'm still a silly widgeon. I don't want to change but summer will be here before long!!!!

loss

2007-01-04T20:41:00.000-08:00

Here's a sweet rumination on the early loss of a loved one.

For Jewels, by Myriah

Each one of us is here
for just a short precious time.
The quest for life's purpose
can have no reason and no rhyme.
Some place possessions
first in excess.
They think having more
will make you "more" of a success.
Others long for pleasure to
Somehow feel good --
And they end up doing things
they never wished they would.
Some will seek and strive
for that ever elusive fame,
but where are all the accolades
when the neon fades from your name?
There are those who seek to out-do all
to be better than the rest.
But always being number one,
doesn't mean you've passed the test.
Even having perfect children,
who never let you down,
might be a feather in your cap
but it won't change the town.
There is much about this life
that we do not understand --
And sometimes all we can do
is reach out for someone's hand.
When those dark days come
knocking on your door,
it won't matter if you're famous,
uknown, rich or poor.
Good friends are hard to come by,
true friends even harder yet;
But if you can find just one in life,
I bet you'll be glad you met.
When all is said and done and
it's time for us to go --
It isn't what you have,
it's all in who you know.

the season

2006-12-21T22:37:00.000-08:00

We all know we're supposed to be really happy and have lots of fun during these seasonal holidays we're having, but the reality for a lot of people is not so happy. Many of us have lost loved ones during the holiday season, or have other bad memories that come up. Yep, it's true. A lot of us are pretty blue during these holidays. Here are two pieces written by a woman in group who is having a rough time of it right now. They're sad, but they're representative of the experiences of a lot of people, even during the holidays.

Pain, by Myriah

Pain so sharp it feels like a
knife is cutting through my soul.
My heart so heavy with a gaping hole.
You can't reach in,
I won't reach out --
You wonder what it's all about.
I wear a mask to protect myself
So you can't see my pain.
But in the end, I never win,
my efforts are in vain.
Hopeless, helpless, torn and weak
but no words will I speak.
I carry this load like a I'm OK
hoping tomorrow is a better day.

I'm Sorry, by Maryah

Are you happy now?
Are you out of pain?
You were too young for this,
you had too much to gain.
I'm sorry that you took your life
Without coming to me first.
I'm sorry that you didn't trust me
enough to tell you what you're worth.
I'm sorry that we held each other
so close, flesh to flesh.
I'm sorry now, because without you
my life is such a mess.
I'm sorry that you hurt so bad,
you didn't know what else to do.
I'm sorry that I didn't see it,
I would have tried to save you.
I'm sorry that I loved so much --
and that I cared so very deep.
I'm sorry for all the pain I feel,
and for all the tears that I weep.

in the spirit

2006-12-14T20:19:00.000-08:00

This week at the Oasis we got our Christmas tree and finally started decorating. The tree (generously donated by a local philanthropist) is HUGE and lovely (and leaning, but let's not talk about that). The rest of the decorations are pretty nice too and, all in all, people seem to be getting in the spirit of the season. With that in mind, my suggestion in group tonight was to write about favorite holiday memories. Here's what some folks had to say.

Christmas, by Anonymous Woman

To me, Christmas is more about the giving than the recieving. It's about seeing a smile on people's faces when they open what you bought them, especially when they have no clue about what you're buying them. It's about the sparkle in a child's face when they know Santa is on his way. It's about baking and all the smells there are in the air. I was invited to a Christmas Eve party and told not to buy gifts. I'm sorry, I can't do that. I had to buy. I might struggle through the month, but just being able to give and to see the joy will be worth the struggle.

Two Favorite Holidays, by Dilly Scott

I had two favorite holidays. The Addam's Family made for t.v. movie. Gomez and Morticia seemed to have the ultimate romantic relationship where he was smitten and she cherished him and demanded respect.

The other favorite holiday was an Easter weekend. The LLD's breaks failed and we smashed into the telephone pole. I wasn't hurt hardly at all. I felt guilty for two months because it was my dad's car.

I finally scraped together $500.00 and sold the crummy exercise bike. I felt guilty about that too, but we had seven kitties and a keeshound. After dinner we watched the room shed.

Anyway, Sir Teddy, Kiki and I went up and down our large block because I'd spied a $500 golden brown Dodge. We almost wore out the sidewalk. There was sunshine, rain and snow and finally they came back on Monday.

I had the money with me and I paid it. I had to leave Teddy at the house and go there. They had two bouncing black chows. They bounced off the front window. Bruce fixed it enough to run and it was my first car. I called it "Geordi" after Geordi Laforge on Star Treck the Next Generation.

it's going around

2006-12-14T20:16:00.000-08:00

I don't know about you guys, but folks around the Oasis have been getting sick left and right. It's something nasty and it's going around. Tonight in group, a recent victim of the bug decided to write about it.

I Don't Feel Well, by Mavis Wykopf

I don't feel weel,
My tummy hurts
And I probably smell.

I don't feel well
I have no energy
You can probably tell.

I don't feel well
My brain is fuzzy,
Earlier I fell.

I can't stand,
I can't sit,
I can go to the potty,
But that's about it.

I don't feel well,
It won't last forever,
But right now, I feel like hell.

odds and ends

2006-12-11T22:00:00.000-08:00

I was just going through my writing group notebook and I found a few odds and ends. They aren't connected by any particular themes, they're just random things I wanted to put in the blog. Enjoy.

Silver Dollar, by Anonymous Man

They surround me all the time. Lurking, mumbling, chanting, with bright yellow glowing eyes. And their black, dark, leathery skin. And their bony faces. One spoke to me the other night. It told me it could hear me panting. They bring people in. Chains and all. One victim after the next. The worst torture on could bear. I look deep into the eys of the soul being tortured as they cry out for mercy.

If I Could Do It Again, by Anonymous Woman

I wish that I would have waited to have children. At least until I finished school and had a career other than just a mom. I love each of my children but I could have so much more to ofer them. But for what it's worth, I must have done something right because I not only have three beautiful children, I also have three very beautiful, wonderful grandsons I love and cheris. I must've done ok. But I would still like to be better off financially so we could enjoy some of the better things in life. I am not done yet and hopefully in the near future some of my dreams will finally be accomplished and I can lower my standards on myself. Until then, one more day is soon approaching, so good night for me.

The Fire at the Oasis, by Dilly Scott

It was awful when we had a real fire at the Oasis. I grabbed what I could and was grateful for cute fuzzy uggs and my nice coats. I'm just getting to the point that there are better memories because my folks and I used to go all over the city at night. We only did laundry and had snacks, but I felt safe and eventually ended up waiting to drive a 409 horsepower engine car.

Anyway, the night people were great and I brought Cookie (our ginea pig) a new blanket. I like this zoo but sometimes it's unsanitary. I try to ignore things and do the best I can.

I'm still a little tired but I stood up all that time and both firemen and later the critters were a comfort with the big rigs. I feel like a horse that wants to run right down to the beach. I still want a 409 and maybe fog lamps and a kitty or furry dog. I miss Teddy, Kiki and my folks and I haven't given up on my life! I want to exercise and cook Thanksgiving Dinner.

fantasy

2006-12-07T20:36:00.000-08:00

Tonight I asked the group to write their myth. They mostly all looked at me like I was nuts. But I begged. I asked them to picture themselves in any kind of fantasy or fairy tale they wanted. They still looked at me funny, and a few just igored my very cool suggestion, but two valiant sould made an attempt and here are the results of their labors.

Dilly Scott's Fantasy, by Dilly Scott

Her wings brushed his face and he both cherished her, his planet, and wondered at the same time how his life had turned out this way. She was strong without being overpowering but she'd rounded up all of the egg layers and protected them.

Kit looked at life as "how can I help?" Very few "flyers" were born every century. It usually gave them an advantage.

The furry thing he called a hedgehog occasionally demanded his company, with its pointy ears and wings, but he remained devoted to her. The small ship was powerful. Kit was calm enough being in charge.

They came to protect the animals. The ore producers were sometimes at odds with them and they prayed on the sabbath. He wondered what he should do. Kit was not leaving without him.

"The sabbath is not for work, my lady." Her heart lurched and so did some of her internal organs.

"This is my gift to the planet, whatever we come up with, Arnold."

Each councill member gave a brief summary of how they thought they could help. "If they feel they will be left out, we might have a chance." Arnold had been storing materials for seven and a half years and he and the council started building and they erected walls into place. It was huge. When the providers found out they started to put in light, heat fixtures and plumbing.

The ark came in with the animals in the open areas and shower areas. The living areas came two and a half weeks later and Arnold washed the winged mammoth and she bit him. Kit bandaged him and the Captain found them there and then said, "Hey boy, you want to sign on?"

They were married four days later aboard The Fearless and celebrated with "bomber burritoes."

The End

Once Upon A Time, by Mavis Wykopf

Once upon a time, there was a young toad. She hopped away from her lilypad and became lost in the great wood. She began to cry. Suddenly, she became aware of the fact that she was not alone! She peered through her tears and spied something blurry! As her vision cleared and her tears subsided, she saw another toad. She did not recognize this male toad. She started to hop away but he spoke to her in such a soothing toady voice that she stayed. He asked her what was wrong and she said she was lost and afraid! He chuckled in his toady voice and said, "Turn around and you will see that you are not lost!" She turned around, and there, in the distance, but not out of sight, was her lovely lilypad! She was so excited, she gave the dashing toad a big toady kiss and hopped home! The next day there were two lilypads where there had once been one!

The end.

random

2006-12-06T21:57:00.000-08:00

Tonight, a sometimes-participant of writing group came running into the Oasis and gave me a poem he'd been writing on his own, specifically for inclusion in the blog. So here it is! Enjoy.

One Person, By Anonymous Man

One person can change the world
Is it me or is it you?
Putting our differences aside
Bringing the world together as one
One person at a time, one by one.

One person can change the world,
Bringing Peace to the Earth
Heaven on Earth, here to stay
Except death I do pray

One person can change the world
Seems so simple to do
Sitting here thinking things through

One person can change the world
Is it me or is it you?
Johnny Appleseed becomes our enemy
So much food don't know what to do
Feeding the hungry, never ending too
All it takes is a seed
Will you plant one too?

So much Earth
So much ground
So much room

a summer poem

2006-11-16T22:47:00.000-08:00

Here's a poem written in the summer to remind us that the oncoming winter gloom is only temporary.

Through the woods, down to the stream
Is a spot I go to dream.
The sun shines bright
the birds sing loud
and I think of a life that could
make me proud.
A life of peace, joy and no strife,
gives visions of happiness and better life.
While fish swim and bugs crawl,
the quiet solitude beats all.
With warm fresh air and a clear blue sky,
only good happy thoughts need apply.
Its very easy to feel refreshed
just stick to happy thoughts to be blessed.

By Anonymous Woman

always thankful for a place to stay

2006-11-16T22:33:00.000-08:00

Lots of times, people come to group just feeling thankful they have a place to live after living on the streets or bouncing from couch to couch. I often ask people who are in writing group for the first time to write about their first day here at the Oasis. I do this partly because I'm curious about their experiences here and partly to acknowledge their new-ness and give them a chance to reflect on their new surroundings. Here's another in what will probably be a continuing and sporadic number of New to the Oasis stories.

About the Oasis, by Sez Me

I'm grateful for a bed. And, since my money will finally start next Wednesday, I feel a little more objective about it. The thing is, I love old buildings. That's the first thing I noticed about the Oasis.

There are some wonderful hospitality units -- the Oasis -- in Portland. It's a shame they let some of Burnside fall apart. I don't know much about group homes, but I know they are being crowded out by renovations and condos. Come on "city," get it together!

Hopefully I won't be here long. I've never not been self supporting except a brief period on welfare and joblessness. About funding -- I've been through two recessions -- please, no more Mr. Bush!

letter to myself

2006-11-09T21:06:00.000-08:00

Sometimes the folks in group write stuff that's so personal and so touching, it brings tears into the eyes of this crusty old captain. That's just what happened tonight. I used a prompt that was suggested by one of my coworkers. The prompt: write a letter to yourself when you were younger and say all the things you wish you could say to that younger self. The results were pretty cool:

Dear Mariyah (at age 10),

I am you at 23. I am writing to help you through some things. First of all, in seven years, just after your 17th birthday, your mother will die. This will be a major turning point in your life. A lot of people will be put in your path to help you along the way. Let them help. Beginning with your Aunt Evelyn. You will be sent to live with her. Just do whatever she wants you to do, trust me, it will all work out better in the end if you do.

Second, you will go to Job Corps at 19 for medical assitance training. Afterwards, you will have a prime opportunity to move to Lincoln City. That's fine, but whatever you do, stay out of Taft! Don't befriend a man named Andy that you meet at the bus stop. He will get you hooked on shit that will take you years to overcome. Be strong.

You will be very lonely in Lincoln City due to lack of family and the mom-shaped hole in your heart. But don't fear, because Christine will be your rock while you are there. Again, I tell you little one, be strong. That's the best advice I can give you at this time.

Love, Me.

Dear Dilly,

I know there was some money, but not a lot, for college. Don't give up on having a super stock car or anything else you thought the Lord would bless you with. I know it can be better to be alone than with the wrong people. Follow your heart always.

Best Wishes,

Dilly (SUPER STOCK!!)

halloween stories

2006-10-30T16:52:00.000-08:00

In preparation for Halloween, I asked the group to share stories about their favorite Halloween memories. Here are two, one is fact and one is fiction:

My Favorite Halloween, by Maryah

My favorite Halloween I was sick and couldn't go trick-or-treating. To ensure that the day wasn't ruined for me, my mom had me dress up anyway as a ghost and trick-or-treat at the bathroom door. She went out and bought all kinds of candy for me and three different wigs for herself so she'd look different each time I went to the door.

Then, when my sister's got home they all gave me some of their candy. I got more candy that year from being sick at home than I would have going out, and I didn't have to get wet! And I thought that I was just going to stay home and watch Halloween with Mom and Dad.

Dilly's Halloween, by Dilly Scott

Dilly donned her Halloween costume -- a beautiful, sleek black cat. Who would she meet? A handsome politician, a political social worker, kids that she'd given raisins to, lonely people who watched a movie that was an extension of an old fun t.v. program, some art lovers?

She danced with an important handsome man and gave him and earful of polite conversation. I love people, the planet, my family, pets, suggestions. He told his aunt she was pleasant and helpful. Dilly loved the band, she wanted the Halloween Festival to be part of harvest time so that people didn't hurt inside, feel put down, but that they wanted to go forward even with winter coming on to make the planet a better place to live come spring.

waxing political

2006-10-05T21:17:00.000-07:00

There must have been some kind of interesting, planetary alignment last week because a *ton* of people came to group. Which was pretty awesome as group tends to be pretty small. Small groups are cozy, but it was really exciting to have so many different voices around.

Two first-timers, completely independent of each other, felt moved by politics and wrote really interesting political pieces. Here they are.

Thoughts by Greatness, 9/28/06

To date, it has been found that the Oregon system or, generally, life, society, and or governement is infringed upon by an unusual assortment of antisocial waywards who openly -- like no other time in regional history that I can immediately recall -- vie for illicit taxation profiteering. A single aspect to expose would be the haphazard use of ultra-sophisticated equipment to suppress a timely nullification by authorities or audaciously coerce collusion.

The overall scheme of garnering all illicit tax is lazy minded short cutting. With reflecting upon an old adage which holds that "there are no short cuts to get to a place worth going to," all who can refrain from the untimely and express should only expect that the life and society from which they evolve will not be so ill effected.

Thank You Governor, by 55 year old voter

Thank you Governor, you have my vote! I am sick to death of dirty politics! Every election there is the continuous bashing of opponents not excluding your opponent! I will not vote for Saxton, Holey or her opponent who's name escapes me at this moment. Those two have said nothing about any issues! I will not vote for either one! "Write in" has my vote!

where i'd like to go

2006-09-26T00:39:00.000-07:00

After I asked the group to write about where they came from, I asked them to write about where they'd like to go. Specifically, I asked them to imagine the place they'd like to live if they could live anywhere. Here is one creative response by Dilly Scott:

Dear Aunt Daisy,

Hope you survived your last adventure with flying colors. Sometimes I miss your face and "the knight's face."

I wish I could see you once in awhile. Haven't given up on having my own place. It should have a picture window, room for pets and a two car garage, just far enough from the wind and the waves to be safe. This way I could have a vehicle with fog lamps so I could help if it were necessary. I'm pretty squeamish, but I'd be there.

I'd like to find a new job soon, enjoy the rest of the summer and stock up on fake fur and a supply of cat food. There'd be cupboards all over, tables, two couches, bright colors, electric heat, stereo, writing paper and Bibles. There'd always be coffee and a microwave for a hot sandwich or tea and jelly, extra stuff. It wouldn't be too fancy, just clean.

Y'all come.

Love,

Dilly Scott

where i'm from

2006-09-26T00:26:00.000-07:00

Awhile back, I asked people to write stories about the place they grew up. This is a story that came from one member of the group:

Where I'm From, by: Anonymous Woman

I was born in Brooklyn, New York, in the ghetto. It's hot there in the summertime and the teenagers used to undo the fire hydrants and get us wet to cool us off. One time, they threw me in and I thought I was drowning.

This guy came around once with a merry go round and other rides. Mom would have my sister babysit and we would climb out off the roof of the saw dust mill. It was easy to get up and down on. A man from the mill had get me down once though. We played on the roof and jumped roof to roof.

One time this guy gave us a free watermelon off the back of a train and me and my brother told everybody that they were giving watermelons out at the train tracks. Everyone and their uncle came to get one and by the time they came back from lunch the train was empty!

You'd see people pushing carts down the streets with hot dogs, pretzles and cotton candy -- all kinds of stuff. My mom always took us to Coney Island, that's the coast in New York. We'd swim in the water. My brother always ended up at the police station eating ice cream. One day he went by himself -- it was a long way with lots of subways. He was going to take me with him and we snuck under the fence but there was a police officer there so we snuck back home and hide under beds.

My older brother was in the airforce. We always waited for him to come home. He let us play with his shaving cream. When I got back out there to visit again, I went out with my two brothers, Barney and Barney. They took me to the trade center where they were serving Italian. We went inside the twin towers -- the inside of that building was like glass imagery. It was the most beautiful building I ever saw. Then they showed me a boat that looked like the love boat cruise ship.

New York is like being in another world. In every section of town you see every kind of people there is. It really is interesting.

in which the captain apologizes

2006-09-06T17:39:00.000-07:00

Sorry the updates have been few and far between. The captain has been busy here on the island and hasn't had a chance to sneak off to the computer to post new work. A further apology: the captain is getting off the island for a week's vacation back east to visit family, so this little blog will remain un-updated until I'm back on the 18th, at which time I hope to put up some new stuff. Please check back then for more awesome writing from the Oasis.

two birds in a boat

2006-09-06T17:22:00.000-07:00

One day I brought in a picture of a sculpture made of carved and painted wood by an artist named Stan Peterson. It was printed on a post-card from the beppa wiardu gallery which was showing this among other sculptures in July. The picture showed a wooden boat with two very short men on either side and one very tall man at the prow, all standing outside the boat, seeming to guide it. Inside the boat, however, were two enormous white birds with long, pointed yellow beaks.

Two birds in a boat being pushed by three men. I thought it was an interesting picture and it raised, for me, a lot of questions. What were those birds doing in the boat? Why were the men pushing them? The birds sit side by side with peaceful faces, almost regal, as though they are the king and queen bird and the men are their servants.

I passed this picture around group one day and encouraged everyone to tell a story about the birds and the boat and the three little men. Here's what they all came up with:

Any Decent Contraption, By: Dilly Scott

Mr. and Mrs. Noah Waylon recieved their inheritance and after a brief vacation in Holland, they adopted four keeshounds, 18 birds, two cats and took up residence somewhere on the Oregon coast and then adopted three horses and a deodorized skunk. They do occasional animal rescues and are always there to help. They and three friends have been transporting injured birds in any decent contraption to the heated barns and they're planning on doing some quiet filming to promote peace and joy between the church, temple, animals, people and this environment.

Stuffed animals are made at the White Cap Inn Bed and Breakfast for the birds in the boat's benefit and any souvineer hunters of the local variety. There are also other sculptures of museum quality. The birds' release after healing is not publicized and happens only at the birds' convenience, however well wishes are always welcome.

The Birds' Boat, By: Anonymous Woman

The picture is of birds in a boat with men surrounding it. They aren't touching the birds, just the boat. I think maybe the birds don't want to leave and the men are getting ready to put the boat in the water. Maybe they'll share the boat with the birds. The birds seem very comfortable. It makes me think that the men are thinking "Hey, these birds won't get out of my boat." They do look prepared to go in the water with the birds in the boat. Or maybe they took the boat out of the water already and the birds went sailing. Maybe they feel it's the birds' boat now. It appears they have taken ownership and will not leave. It almost looks as though it were actual and somehow got turned to wood.

Love Boat, By: Myriah

A couple months ago, I decided to take a trip to an island off the keys. While I was there, I saw the most bizarre thing. Three young men were pushing two birds in a boat! Being the curious woman I am, I stopped to inquire what was happening.

The boys said that the birds were almost extinct. The two in the boat were the last two in all the world. They figured that since their parents took a trip on a boat and gave them a little sister nine months later, maybe if the birds took a little trip on a boat, they might reproduce too.

changing seasons

2006-08-29T20:18:00.000-07:00

Last week in group, one of our participants suggested we write about the changing seasons. The air was getting cooler, the days shorter, even the light slanting in the windows was a little different and everyone seemed to be feeling it. Here are some pieces inspired by the change in season:

Autumn is Coming, by Anonymous Woman

It is the end of August and it feels more like October. There is a briskness in the air and it is overcast. I like autumn, it's my favorite season. It always has been. I like the colors of the crunching leaves, I like the autumn clothing, the way the air feels and the anticipation of the holidays. I don't even mind the rain, especially now that I have a place to live. I am looking forward to the inclement weather of autumn. I think I'd like to write a poem about autumn and the holidays:

The crisp air and crunch beneath my feet
make me forget the summer heat.
The overcast sky and the fresh smell of rain
make me happy and help me forget my pain.
The holiday shoppers will soon be out in full force
shopping for their loved ones and themselves, of course.
People seem kinder as though they believe in Santa
and always exchange pleasant banter.
The kindness in the air could never be wrong,
too bad it couldn't last all year long.
If people could bottle the happiness they feel
they could use it throughout the year when things seem surreal
May this year we capture the nostalgia and love too
and use it to see us the entire year through.

With The Change of Seasons, by Dilly Scott

It makes me wonder if several people wanted something or didn't want something if it could actually affect even the weather. That almost seems like that's the reason for white caps on the ocean.

I want everyone to reach their full potential in a positive manner, it's dischord to want to hurt even a machine.

The first cool day of summer to me is sad and all the nice days until Thanksgiving are cherished and I hope to make new friends, please people. Sometimes short days are frustrating and I love Easter. The first warm days are what I look forward to and then going somewhere on a vacation, enjoying being outside. I'd rather spend part of Thanksgiving and Christmas in church and celebrate the change in weather by a quick Thank You prayer and enjoy the beautiful plants in Spring.

the impact of the oasis

2006-08-18T22:14:00.000-07:00

I promise I never ask people in writing group to sing the praises of the Oasis, but they often include some very nice things about the program in the things they write. Reading these unsolicited compliments always surprises me and reminds me what an incredible impact the program has. Here's a recent piece from writing group, written by a member of the group who left the program briefly and returned soon after.

Back at the Oasis, by Anonymous Woman

I'm at the Oasis. I had left for a week to go back East and now I'm back. When I got back I was so relieved that a bed was still available to me. I was so tired. It's been about a month and I'm back in the swing of things. Everyday I'm grateful that I'm off the street. The Oasis really takes care of its clients: they are housed, well fed, medications are provided as well as support from the staff and whatever else they can provide 24-hours a day, 7 days a week. I feel it's an excellent program and I'm glad to be a part of it.

When I get housing, I'd like to get a pet. After I have a job and be sure I can feed it. I'd like a cat. I know that after I get housing I'll come back and visit often. I've gotten used to the community and sometimes people have a hard time adjusting to the housing that is found for them 'cause they are so used to the community. I'm certain I will be fine when I get my housing and move out. I'd like everyone to know what a great service is provided here.

The reason why some people have difficulty is because they go from a large support system to living alone. After housing, people are allowed to still come here to visit, which is good. I hope I always do as good as I'm doing here. I was considered chronically homeless and now I almost couldn't imagine or can't believe that's how I used to live and it can be a little overwhelming at times.

I'm presently waiting for housing which might take another month. I've gone from sleeping in doorways to *almost* being a productive, taxpaying person. I realized my life wasn't the norm or acceptable and it was hard to realize something like that.

letters that will never be sent

2006-08-18T22:02:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite writing prompts for group is the letter that will never be sent. Participants are encouraged to sit a moment and think about people they'd like to write something to. The person can be someone real or made-up, someone they know or someone they've only just heard of. And because the letter will never be sent, they can say whatever they feel they need to say without worrying about consequences. These letters have tended to be very personal and the folks who write them often choose not to share them outside the group. However, I will post the letters that people want to share periodically, starting with this one.

Dear Rachel, by Dilly Scott

Dear Rachel,

I've been in respite, I guess. There were some objections when I fell in love in 1974, 1984, and 2004 with the same guy. He's elegant in his black tuxedo and I call him "Gorgeous Guy." Had to rethink everything, but I've never minded that. It reminds me of my mom. She wasn't old inside her spirit.

I do miss all of you. Wish we could go and have coffee and doughnuts in Lincoln City and watch things go on. I want to buy a porch swing even though I enjoy doing things. I am ok, but I need a hug. Right now I'd hug the mole. Silly, but I loved the Channel 10 special. Have been feeling restless and wish I could fix eggs, onions and cheese.

I know I'll see "Gorgeous Guy" again. I have been a little tired. I'm a clean freak but I try not to encroach. Made a wish book this month. Am my usual, sappy self. I am not happy without a pet. I haven't given up. Very best to kitten and everyone.

Love,

Dilly

we'd love to hear from you!

2006-08-17T10:57:00.000-07:00

Thanks to everyone who has visited the site so far! Writing group meets in a couple of hours and I'm excited to tell everyone how many hits we've had (48 in just two short days!). For anyone who may have tried to leave comments and found their way was blocked, the settings have been changed and comments are now ennabled. Please leave feedback! Everyone would love to hear what our readers have to say. Thanks and please bookmark this site and keep coming back for more!

my first day at the oasis

2006-08-15T20:07:00.000-07:00

On the first day of writing group, I asked if people would write about their first day at the oasis. This is a big place with a lot of people and I imagined it could be pretty intimidating. I was really curious to know how everybody's first days had felt. Here are their stories.

From Maryah:

My first day at the Oasis... that's a little crazy. Fresh out of the hospital, new to the downtown area, and very different from my fellows; or so I thought. People were walking around talking to themselves, laughing at the air and even arguing with their hands! I was in trouble. I knew I didn't belong here. Then, to top it off, someone got arrested and we all had to leave the DIC. "What's the DIC" I remember thinking. (Note from the Captain: the DIC is the drop in center where everybody hangs out.) So much drama and chaos. I just wanted to go to bed. Escape. Go away.

Soon it was dinner time. What a riot! People came out of everywhere. There was a long line and I was told to get in or get out. Then someone whom I cannot seem to remember now gave me cuts in line so I wouldn't have to go to the end. I eventually settled down and in, made some friends and got used to this place. I'm ok now and I've realized I'm not so different from my fellows. We all have problems and that's why we are here.

From Anonymous Woman:

My first day at the Oasis was scary. I was expected here. Being at a treatment center for five and a half months, I was excited and afraid. I was brought here by a friend and sponsor. The staff here at the Oasis appeared to be happy I was now a part of their people who were staying here and I started to relax. I saw all of the Oasis and was showed the dorm where I would be staying. After the tour, I was alone to unpack my stuff. This place is now my home.

From Anonymous Woman #2:

My first day at the Oasis: I came through the door and met with my case manager. This place had some people acting tough, people asking me for cigarettes. I left and went to the shelter I'd been at to get my stuff. Luckily, some guy had a cart and brought it over here. They showed me around and gave me some bedding and I was too nervous to do anything so I sat on my bed. There was this woman sitting at the end of the bed, she asked me for a cig so I had one with her so I wouldn't be so nervous. Then I bought a pop and I ended up buying her one too. I felt sorry for her so I helped her some more. She dropped things on the floor and she wanted me to help her pick them up. She got coffee and she wanted me to get the cream and sugar for her. It only took me half a second to figure out she takes kindness as weakness and she didn't want a friend, she wanted a slave. Then some big girl came up and tried to show her power. I just said, "Bitch, don't you know I can beat your ass, don't matter what." If I show my weakness, people will eat me alive. This was a new place and I could sleep for a couple of days. I had a bunch of guys here trying to pick me up. To this day, they all say I had my chance. Yeah, I did. I had my chance to turn them down! They just don't seem to realize I have the best boyfriend and nobody can change my mind.

Anonymous Woman #3:

I was referred by my old case manager. I came in and was able to do my laundry, shower and be off the streets. I remember a staff person told me I could sleep on the couch that night and I was so happy to have a chance to rest and not sleep on the street. I spent most of that weekend indoors and I asked again about the couch and they said yes.

Eventually, after about a week or two, I moved into the dorm. It was nice and cool in there. This was about two months ago. Since then, I've been doing very well psychologically and all around better as I sleep, eat good, and shower regularly and have acquired clothes and can do laundry. My thinking is much better. I think the elements outside were hard.

I notice a major difference in myself. I feel the stability and routine of life the Oasis has given me will be with me always. It has definitely made me a better person. I've become very open to groups since I've been at the Oasis -- they were very beneficial to me. I have so much to look forward to and I'm grateful for my mindset and the Oasis. I think the staff does and excellent job. They are very tolerant, patient and professional.

Anonymous Man:

My first day at the Oasis, I was suicidal. I was grateful I had a place to stay, but also I was on the streets and very depressed. Things were rough at the beginning but eventually I met people and got involved. It was a long process, but God was with me. I made some friends who were very nice to me, including the staff. I got help. I'm grateful for the blessing and the people who were there for me. I now I have an apartment and a job interview. That will help me get a job. Compassion is a beautiful thing. I have expressed it and have received it. To be kind to someone comes back on you. Anyone can be mean, but to be kind is the true essence of life. I am not where I was eleven months ago. I'm a better person.

welcome to the oasis

2006-08-15T19:52:00.000-07:00

The Oasis is a place to land and rest and regroup when you find yourself in between places. I'm the Captain, and I work at the Oasis. I was shipwrecked here about five years ago and I just can't seem to get off the island. Maybe I don't try hard enough, maybe I just like the food, maybe I can't live without the place. Who knows.

Really, the Oasis is a transitional housing program in Portland for people living with mental illness who would otherwise be facing homelessness. The people who spend time at the Oasis come from all walks of life and are all at different spots on their journeys. Some have been living with their illnesses a long time, and some are just getting to know their illnesses. Some have been homeless for years, and some are still reeling from their first nights on the streets. Some are dealing with substance use issues, and some have never seen drugs in their lives. Some have beds here, and some are just visitors.

The one thing that unites all the voices you'll see on this blog is their participation in Writing Group. Every Thursday a group of us get together and write stories about our lives and our experiences and now I'm starting this blog so other people can read the stories of the people who spend time at the Oasis. I hope to update the blog at least once a week with the new writing generated from group. We hope you enjoy what you read and come back frequently.

(Just so you know: This blog is completely anonymous and all the names you see will be pen names. Even the Oasis is a pseudonym. And, believe it or not, I'm not really called the Captain, either, though I think it would be a great nickname if I could just convice people to start using it...)