Here is a link to an article I wrote about 10 years ago, Emerging Powers: "The New World Order and What We Make of It" World Policy Journal, Fall 1999.
In it I argue that as a step toward creating a new international order, the United States and the emerging powers need to reach a consensus on three broad areas: 1) security - how to use force to avoid violence; 2) wealth creation and sharing; and, 3) norms, and how to structure institutions.(14) This is not to say that all the world's ills will vanish once emerging powers are brought into the "club of nations." However, the first step toward a more cooperative world is not to ignore "unfamiliar" parts of the world. Countries are not unlike people, requiring attention, recognition, and respect from their peers. The United States must recognize the great strides that have been made by emerging powers like India, Brazil, and South Africa in the political and economic realms.
The full text of the article can be found at
The New World Order and What We Make of It
I am currently working on a follow-up article looking back 10 years later at the state of Emerging Powers and their fate in the new US political climate.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
Homelessness, my own experience.
It occurred to me after writing about my experience meeting the Dalai Lama, that many of you that might visit and possibly follow this blog would not know that I spent almost 5 years homeless and living on the streets of San Francisco, mostly in the Mission District, specifically Garfield Park. (In a sense the Dalai Lama blew my cover, the AP story about the lunch at St. Martin's was picked up by almost every newspaper in the country! )In July of 2003, I lost my job sunk into a deep depression and deeper into my addictions to alcohol and drugs to deal with my new reality...or as it turns out not deal with it, escape from it.
At first I have to admit it was sort of an scary adventure for me and I actually enjoyed the freedom and independence that came with homelessness, learning the rules of the streets, the codes of conduct and survival. I had never really been "poor" at least not in the material sense of the word, I had held a great job and position in New York and San Francisco, I had traveled the world over; and yet now I found myself alone, with no one and nothing to hold on to. I was spiritually bankrupt. Fortunately, I found an incredible community of fellow homeless friends from Mexico and Central America, we became a family on the streets. We ate and slept together, recycled together, stole together (i no longer do this!) and cared for and looked after each other. We still stick together, those of us that are still left. It was exciting at first, I saw it as an adventure, a scary one, but one nonetheless that taught me more about life than any classroom or any book I have ever read.
After a few years, one by one my "compadres", "la banda" ended up deported, in jail, in the hospital or dead---or a combination thereof. My fate was to be no different, on March 31, 2006, I was forced by the SF Sheriff to board a paramedic ambulance headed to San Francisco General. I was as yellow as a banana (jaundice), skinny as a bone with an incredibly distended stomach, a condition called ascites that comes from liver disease due to alcohol abuse. I refused to board the ambulance and so the Sheriff had to called. He told me I would die in a few days--as had his best friend--to which I responded "Well what is the difference? If I am to die in the hospital, I would rather die here in the park with my friends. He then gave me the option of "either you board the ambulance of your own volition or I arrest you, you board the ambulance anyway, and then when you are released from the hospital, I take you to County Jail." Needless to say I chose the former.
To make a long story short, I almost died in the emergency room. I had end-stage cirrhosis of the liver and my kidneys started to fail when the doctors began to extract some of the fluid trapped in my abdomen wall. Through the grace of God and some wonderfully kind and skilled physicians I am still here and beginning a new chapter in my life as I bring another to a close.
Almost two years later, I am thriving once again. I still have cirrhosis, however I feel better than I did when I was perfectly healthy, and I am ready to meet life on life's terms, not my own. I have learned to accept my new reality. I no longer live on the streets, although I do live in what is called "transitional housing" an SRO, Single Resident Occupancy Hotel, in San Francisco's Tenderloin--a drug infested and economically depressed area in the center of the city surrounded by Union Square, Civic Center, Nob Hill and Cathedral Heights. Technically, I am still considered homeless. I lucky to have my own room with my own bathroom, my "sanctuary" and try to lead a spiritually, mentally and physically healthy life in the middle of chaos--it is here if you look for it, even in the Tenderloin. I used to spend most of my days recycling with a shopping cart to earn extra money, but now I am dedicating more of my time to writing, taking care of myself, and trying to help others get off the streets and away from drugs and alcohol--as you can see from my own experience it is not an easy task. I have a wonderful partner who looks after me and who is always at my side. As I told the Dalai Lama, what I need, the street--God, Spirit, the Universe--provides for me in some way or another. I am grateful for what I have and I give thanks daily.
I have reconnected with family and friends over the past two years and everyone has been incredibly supportive in my journey to recovery, both physically and spiritually. Even though I have less materially today, I don't go without, I feel truly blessed, and I am grateful for the opportunity to live my life in the service of my Higher Power and others.
This posting, this blog, is a work in progress and my intention is not to frighten anyone,especially my friends, many of whom already know about this part of my life and have been exceptionally supportive throughout this ordeal. I take full responsibility for what happened to me and blame no one. Please comment and ask questions, nothing would give me more pleasure.
To be continued...
At first I have to admit it was sort of an scary adventure for me and I actually enjoyed the freedom and independence that came with homelessness, learning the rules of the streets, the codes of conduct and survival. I had never really been "poor" at least not in the material sense of the word, I had held a great job and position in New York and San Francisco, I had traveled the world over; and yet now I found myself alone, with no one and nothing to hold on to. I was spiritually bankrupt. Fortunately, I found an incredible community of fellow homeless friends from Mexico and Central America, we became a family on the streets. We ate and slept together, recycled together, stole together (i no longer do this!) and cared for and looked after each other. We still stick together, those of us that are still left. It was exciting at first, I saw it as an adventure, a scary one, but one nonetheless that taught me more about life than any classroom or any book I have ever read.
After a few years, one by one my "compadres", "la banda" ended up deported, in jail, in the hospital or dead---or a combination thereof. My fate was to be no different, on March 31, 2006, I was forced by the SF Sheriff to board a paramedic ambulance headed to San Francisco General. I was as yellow as a banana (jaundice), skinny as a bone with an incredibly distended stomach, a condition called ascites that comes from liver disease due to alcohol abuse. I refused to board the ambulance and so the Sheriff had to called. He told me I would die in a few days--as had his best friend--to which I responded "Well what is the difference? If I am to die in the hospital, I would rather die here in the park with my friends. He then gave me the option of "either you board the ambulance of your own volition or I arrest you, you board the ambulance anyway, and then when you are released from the hospital, I take you to County Jail." Needless to say I chose the former.
To make a long story short, I almost died in the emergency room. I had end-stage cirrhosis of the liver and my kidneys started to fail when the doctors began to extract some of the fluid trapped in my abdomen wall. Through the grace of God and some wonderfully kind and skilled physicians I am still here and beginning a new chapter in my life as I bring another to a close.
Almost two years later, I am thriving once again. I still have cirrhosis, however I feel better than I did when I was perfectly healthy, and I am ready to meet life on life's terms, not my own. I have learned to accept my new reality. I no longer live on the streets, although I do live in what is called "transitional housing" an SRO, Single Resident Occupancy Hotel, in San Francisco's Tenderloin--a drug infested and economically depressed area in the center of the city surrounded by Union Square, Civic Center, Nob Hill and Cathedral Heights. Technically, I am still considered homeless. I lucky to have my own room with my own bathroom, my "sanctuary" and try to lead a spiritually, mentally and physically healthy life in the middle of chaos--it is here if you look for it, even in the Tenderloin. I used to spend most of my days recycling with a shopping cart to earn extra money, but now I am dedicating more of my time to writing, taking care of myself, and trying to help others get off the streets and away from drugs and alcohol--as you can see from my own experience it is not an easy task. I have a wonderful partner who looks after me and who is always at my side. As I told the Dalai Lama, what I need, the street--God, Spirit, the Universe--provides for me in some way or another. I am grateful for what I have and I give thanks daily.
I have reconnected with family and friends over the past two years and everyone has been incredibly supportive in my journey to recovery, both physically and spiritually. Even though I have less materially today, I don't go without, I feel truly blessed, and I am grateful for the opportunity to live my life in the service of my Higher Power and others.
This posting, this blog, is a work in progress and my intention is not to frighten anyone,especially my friends, many of whom already know about this part of my life and have been exceptionally supportive throughout this ordeal. I take full responsibility for what happened to me and blame no one. Please comment and ask questions, nothing would give me more pleasure.
To be continued...
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