Today I visited with Glen Wilder (the Budda/Director) of My Place in Recovery in St. Petersburg, Florida. Since I am new to the Tampa, St. Petersburg, Clearwater area, I want to find out more about resources such as housing and other assistance for those who may have lost everything due to the disease of addiction. I am not familiar with any of the resources. Recently I have started working part-time as a counselor for an addiction treatment center in St. Pete Beach, Florida. I had only been there a couple of days when one of the clients needed a place to live. Fortunately, in a recent Sunday paper, there was an article about My Place. This client did go there but chose or his addiction chose for him to leave after a brief stay. The director of My Place informed me he had been seen “on the streets.”
One of the other clients recently had said they heard that the housing at “My Place” was not very pleasant or nice whatever that meant to him.
At any rate, I called and Mr. Wilder kindly arranged a time for me to meet with him. So it was that early this morning, I plugged the address into my navigation unit and off I went wearing my normal work costume – dress shirt, pants and tie.
I pull up and immediately notice that there are a number of people busy with furniture and other household items which I assumed had been donated for sale. Just inside the door, alongside of many other items for sale, were boxes of fresh fruits and vegetables. Some very friendly individuals who appeared to be working there immediately greeted me and asked if they could help me. I told them I had an appointment with Mr. Wilder (I did not yet know to ask for the Buddha). In the fairly large room were some tables, a couple of desks, computers and many other items one might expect to find in a facility which meets many of the basic needs of we humans. Mr. Wilder was one of the people sitting at one of the seemingly well used desks. He greeted me warmly. I again explained a little of why I was there. He first showed me the large white board on which there are columns for each of the homes in which those living with an addictive disorder can live. There was at least a couple of columns for houses where everyone is in active recovery; columns for houses for those people who have relapsed less than three times; columns for houses for people who cannot stop using (damp houses in which one cannot drink or use but which also do not require one to be sober/clean); and columns for houses for women. He explained that there are a variety of other services including case managers, computers, referral to mental health professionals and agencies which help with employment; there are showers, food, washing machines, and most importantly, friendly staff who always have time to talk; staff such as Denise who is a paid employee but who works even on her days off. She loves her job and clearly has a deep affection for those who come to My Place.
We then toured the drop in center where people can sleep, attend recovery meetings, talk with someone, or just rest in a safe place.
Oh yes. One of the first things The Buddha told me was , “We don’t do pretty.” There were no private rooms, neatly made Hyatt type beds, or softly painted spaces. It is all very basic. In other words, it is a much different place than the many of the expensive treatments centers such as the one at which I am currently working part-time. It is also, in appearance, different than my former Victorian home in which I also saw those clients who “hired me” for what their insurance would pay or what they could afford to pay. Although in my home office there was fresh coffee, tea, water or juice, home make cookies and other snacks which were always available in the waiting room which doubled as my kitchen, it was also freshly remodeled and painted. In other words it was pretty “middle class” in appearance. What was the same (I hope) was the warmth which greeted one in my home office whether one was a corporate president or a homeless person. The warmth at My Place certainly engulfed me as soon as I arrived outside the doors and remained with me throughout my brief stay.
While I was still talking to Mr. Wilder, some people began to take food off of and out of a common kitchen range which was just sort of sitting in the space behind the office/all purpose room. Folks began to gather and then another staff member reminded them that while there, their only responsibility besides doing something to help themselves was to be available and willing if someone needed help with moving something or other chore to help keep the place functioning. There was no sermon or set of expectations or about recovery or religious beliefs. There is an expectation or rule that if one cannot behave in a respectful manner then one might have to leave for the rest of that day, but that same person would be welcome “home” after that.
No one seemed to keep a distance because of my work costume or the fact that I did not appear to be one who today, needed the services. I felt loved and welcomed and knew that if tomorrow I appeared in my worn jeans and torn tee shirt, “down on my luck,” the welcome would be exactly the same.
In the treatment center in which I work or in my private practice I attempt to teach and demonstrate unconditional love, but in those privileged places one does not always get the feeling from other “clients” or even staff that one gets at places such as My Place or at the Catholic Neighborhood Center which was adjacent to my first home office in Wheeling, WV.
In the more sterile settings of our offices or treatment facilities, we may find it more difficult to erase the “us” and “them” mentality. In “My Place,” I was again reminded that I am “the other” and they are “me.” It is not “There but for the Grace of God go I.” It is, “There I am.”
We can talk about our interdependence on each other and mother earth. We can talk about each of us being mirrors of each other. It is much more difficult for this human to go naked (with myself and others) as the human that I am; the human which inhabits all of humanity and which is inhabited by all of humanity.
Thanks to my family at My Place, I was invited to be present “at the table.”
One of the other clients recently had said they heard that the housing at “My Place” was not very pleasant or nice whatever that meant to him.
At any rate, I called and Mr. Wilder kindly arranged a time for me to meet with him. So it was that early this morning, I plugged the address into my navigation unit and off I went wearing my normal work costume – dress shirt, pants and tie.
I pull up and immediately notice that there are a number of people busy with furniture and other household items which I assumed had been donated for sale. Just inside the door, alongside of many other items for sale, were boxes of fresh fruits and vegetables. Some very friendly individuals who appeared to be working there immediately greeted me and asked if they could help me. I told them I had an appointment with Mr. Wilder (I did not yet know to ask for the Buddha). In the fairly large room were some tables, a couple of desks, computers and many other items one might expect to find in a facility which meets many of the basic needs of we humans. Mr. Wilder was one of the people sitting at one of the seemingly well used desks. He greeted me warmly. I again explained a little of why I was there. He first showed me the large white board on which there are columns for each of the homes in which those living with an addictive disorder can live. There was at least a couple of columns for houses where everyone is in active recovery; columns for houses for those people who have relapsed less than three times; columns for houses for people who cannot stop using (damp houses in which one cannot drink or use but which also do not require one to be sober/clean); and columns for houses for women. He explained that there are a variety of other services including case managers, computers, referral to mental health professionals and agencies which help with employment; there are showers, food, washing machines, and most importantly, friendly staff who always have time to talk; staff such as Denise who is a paid employee but who works even on her days off. She loves her job and clearly has a deep affection for those who come to My Place.
We then toured the drop in center where people can sleep, attend recovery meetings, talk with someone, or just rest in a safe place.
Oh yes. One of the first things The Buddha told me was , “We don’t do pretty.” There were no private rooms, neatly made Hyatt type beds, or softly painted spaces. It is all very basic. In other words, it is a much different place than the many of the expensive treatments centers such as the one at which I am currently working part-time. It is also, in appearance, different than my former Victorian home in which I also saw those clients who “hired me” for what their insurance would pay or what they could afford to pay. Although in my home office there was fresh coffee, tea, water or juice, home make cookies and other snacks which were always available in the waiting room which doubled as my kitchen, it was also freshly remodeled and painted. In other words it was pretty “middle class” in appearance. What was the same (I hope) was the warmth which greeted one in my home office whether one was a corporate president or a homeless person. The warmth at My Place certainly engulfed me as soon as I arrived outside the doors and remained with me throughout my brief stay.
While I was still talking to Mr. Wilder, some people began to take food off of and out of a common kitchen range which was just sort of sitting in the space behind the office/all purpose room. Folks began to gather and then another staff member reminded them that while there, their only responsibility besides doing something to help themselves was to be available and willing if someone needed help with moving something or other chore to help keep the place functioning. There was no sermon or set of expectations or about recovery or religious beliefs. There is an expectation or rule that if one cannot behave in a respectful manner then one might have to leave for the rest of that day, but that same person would be welcome “home” after that.
No one seemed to keep a distance because of my work costume or the fact that I did not appear to be one who today, needed the services. I felt loved and welcomed and knew that if tomorrow I appeared in my worn jeans and torn tee shirt, “down on my luck,” the welcome would be exactly the same.
In the treatment center in which I work or in my private practice I attempt to teach and demonstrate unconditional love, but in those privileged places one does not always get the feeling from other “clients” or even staff that one gets at places such as My Place or at the Catholic Neighborhood Center which was adjacent to my first home office in Wheeling, WV.
In the more sterile settings of our offices or treatment facilities, we may find it more difficult to erase the “us” and “them” mentality. In “My Place,” I was again reminded that I am “the other” and they are “me.” It is not “There but for the Grace of God go I.” It is, “There I am.”
We can talk about our interdependence on each other and mother earth. We can talk about each of us being mirrors of each other. It is much more difficult for this human to go naked (with myself and others) as the human that I am; the human which inhabits all of humanity and which is inhabited by all of humanity.
Thanks to my family at My Place, I was invited to be present “at the table.”
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