Ghetto-ization of the Mind

What does it mean to experience the "ghetto-ization of the Mind?"  I am finding now upon almost two years of living here (with a few month hiatus to Vermont for Rosemary's birth), that parts of myself I have had to set aside, hang up in the closet or keep stored away in a box in the attic for safe keeping.  These parts of myself are my softer sides, especially my deep feminine sides.  Those sides don't feel particularly safe in this environment (hence why the temporary fleeing for the end of my pregnancy and birth of Rosemary), and I have almost forgotten them in this depressed, neglected and violent city.  It can be hard to remember that other places are not like this, when you walk down a street and you pass more than three once-beautiful and vibrant homes, now neglected and decaying buildings, and you see mattresses and tires in the backyard.  It's hard to remember that the whole world isn't like this.  It can feel overwhelming, too, because other parts of the world- heck, even other parts of the city a few blocks away- that don't look and feel like this partly in part because this has been neglected so long like this.  It can feel like one thing is necessary for the other to exist- so it makes it feel like this whole world is just tangled up in a pile of neglect and decay, and to add to that, there's little to no work for folks.   So, shit, what to do with that?!

BUT in actuality, life is not like this in all parts.  Though I am strong in many ways, capable of overcoming many fears while living here- encountering spirits and ghosts of this street's past- it seems I am unable to overcome the "ghetto-ization" of my mind.  I realized this when I picked up a yoga magazine while at the Cleveland Heights library this past week.  I started to read one article where it talked about getting in touch with your breath is getting in touch with your true self and your heart.  Things that resonant so clearly with me, but also something that I hadn't thought of or practiced much since moving here.  Something I had hung up in the closet and only taken on to wear on special occasion.  It had been dropped as an item of daily apparel.  And my heart is at a deep lose for it!  It's like in not feeling safe here, I have dropped those parts of myself.  The spiritual.  The one that worships the shakti- the feminine divine, the one that opens herself up to expose my vulnerabilities and breathe.  Unfortunately, this is not a safe place for doing that.

Instead, what I have done is focus intensely on how things can get better- what they can look like in the future, when they get better- (because to focus only on how they are is extremely depressing and bewildering)- and from that I feel I have gained considerable and inspiring vision for the land here and for the Possibilitarian Garden project.  The vision fuels my spirit immensely.  Luscious plants, ponds, and frogs, and butterflies and milkweed, and cherries and apples, and microgreens, and herbs herbs herbs!  Can't you see the color?  Smell the flowers?  See the life?

And yes, this all nourishes me so greatly.  Taking the vision of permaculture to this place, extending it to the community, creating new possibilities.  It's inspiring and invigorating!

But I am also finding that it is part of my intense focus is also partly a survival tactic, and that focus is causing me to loose or fall out of touch with other parts of myself that are not safe yet here.  I garden with an eye over my shoulder and imagine the future sanctuary space, while knowing full-well that there may be gun shots still heard way-to-close.  It's not enough to feel safe - to envision the creation of the small paradise here, to make it paradise, and to furthermore, to bring out all the parts of myself- especially the most vulnerable.  So, I have had to box up parts of my mind, to make it fit into the box of the ghetto, where it must grow tough and gritty and unfriendly- because as I have found not on one occasion, to open myself to others greetings is to act as if soliciting and invite harassment.

So, what does that mean of my and my family's future here...?  It is hard to say, aside from the fact that I must not submit to the ghettoization of the mind.  I will always carry this place with me, where ever I go in life, and I will know that no one should have to live life in a place where people carry guns to intimidate or defend themselves, or people are submitted to such internal violence and neglect from the larger institutional system and within the everyday social context.  

And to garden here?  It is to survive here.  And for Cleveland's survival as a city, and as for any kind of renewal for this city, it's got to come from the gardens and the people doing it.  Because that focus on and vision of a different, better and more hopeful future that is one of engagement, joy, nourishment, healing and life is all there has got to be to survive and thrive.

Goodnight,

Diana