Who is LOVE?
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Radical Peace
It all started when I was around six years old. I was at the Ringling Brothers and Barnum Bailey Circus, and I was sitting in a seat between my paternal grandmother and my mother. I was watching the girl swing from the trapeze. I looked up at my grandmother and said, “Grandma, when I grow up, I am going to do dangerous things.”
My grandmother's smile was filled with validation, praise and encouragement. In 1989, I was 10 years old. In my school we were given the opportunity to apply to be a “US Student Ambassador for World Peace.” I asked my parents if I could apply. My father was hesitant, but my mother said, “Bob, she is 10. She won’t get chosen. Just let her apply.” I was already well aware, even at the age of 10 years old, that my mother didn’t have the drive and spirit that I embodied. She would always say, “you are your fathers daughter.” (and I remember thinking, "well yes Nancy, I am.") I knew that I wanted to experience the world like my father had. I was not scared, I was curious and excited for this opportunity. I knew that I wanted to go deep in the jungles, up in the mountains, and out in the deserts to meet other children and see how they lived. So I applied for this exchange program. I submitted an essay titled, “How I will Help Create World Peace.” My essay was chosen. I then had to be interviewed by a panel of 9 adults. Some of the panelists were from the US Embassy. I remember feeling excited for this interview. The anxiety I felt was energizing, not debilitating. It was the first time that a group of adults were interested in what I was saying. I knew that my responses were important and I was going to help make an impact. The Cold War was in full effect between the Soviet Union and the United States. We were having regular air raid drills during class, where we would have to all hide under our desks. I knew that this war was serious, and people were dying. For those moments that I was curled up underneath my desk, I thought about the pictures that my father showed me of the dead bodies in Vietnam, scattered along the dirt roads. I thought about the little girl that my father wanted to adopt because she was orphaned. I knew that I needed to do something, or else the bombs would continue. I was determined to help create World Peace. The goal of this exchange program was for American children to unite with Russian children and create peace. I was one of the students chosen. I had to quit gymnastics to attend a very intense Russian class so I could learn the language. I do remember feeling concerned though, because I had a friend in the gymnastics class who was blind. The other kids would make fun of her. I would help guide her, as she did her summersaults, so that she would stay going in the right direction. I told my father that I was worried about leaving her. He told me that there will be times throughout my life that I will have to leave people behind. He explained that if I want to make an impact, I can’t save them all. I didn’t understand what he was talking about, but now I do, completely. I learned about fundraising during this process. We raised enough money that the cost was only $50 for each student. Our first stop was Moscow. We performed the play, “The Peace Child” at the Bolshoi Theatre in the Armenian Benefit Concert. The proceeds went to help with the humanitarian relief sent to Armenia, after they experienced a devastating earthquake in 1988. We also traveled to St. Petersburg and met with foreign leaders. We were supposed to go to Tbilisi, but it was bombed so we came home. At the airport, The KGB took my camera, and destroyed the film right infront of me. They thought I was an American Spy.
In high school, I was part of Amnesty International. I remember writing letters to different countries demanding the immediate release of political prisoners. My brother was the main organizer of the Amnesty International chapter in the capital region. I remember my brother having a discussion with me, explaining that we were involved in potentially dangerous work. He spoke to me about how at any time I could be questioned about my affiliation. I was not concerned.
In 1995 I took 11th and 12th grade in the same year and graduated high school. I then moved to Albany. I worked at Albany Medical Center (AMC) on C4 the infectious disease floor. Several of the patients were diagnosed with AIDS. I remember this one woman who was in the end stages of her life, bed bound, she lost all of her hair and she was emaciated. She showed me a picture of her before contracting the virus. She was beautiful. I remember asking her if I could do anything to make her days a little bit better. I knew she was dying. She asked me to paint her nails. It was an honor. She was very weak. I remember her sitting in a Barcalounger chair. The sun was shining through the window. I sat with her and painted her fingernails bright red. It was heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time. She passed away the next day. I wasn’t sad. I felt more of a sense of relief. I knew that she was now at peace. In 1997 I transferred downstairs to the newly created unit, C3 the prison unit. That was when I was first introduced to the NYS Department of Corrections. It was a clean, organized, secure 10 bed unit. It was there where I learned how to draw blood. I also learned that even though a person may have huge muscles, protruding veins, and look tough, they can be really scared of needles. I learned the art of de-escalation and taught the skill of deep breathing. I realize now that I was teaching mindfulness, the action of finding peace. This is a VERY important part of my story.
In 1998, my supervisor asked a co-worker of mine to keep an eye on me. She stated to this man, “She is a wild one. Keep her safe.” I had no idea that he was a drug dealer. I lived in downtown Albany. He was very friendly and knew everyone! Whenever I walked around the neighborhood, people were so nice. He seemed to always be around. He would give me rides if he saw me walking around at nighttime. We ended up becoming very good friends.
In 1998, my supervisor asked a co-worker of mine to keep an eye on me. She stated to this man, “She is a wild one. Keep her safe.” I had no idea that he was a drug dealer. I lived in downtown Albany. He was very friendly and knew everyone! Whenever I walked around the neighborhood, people were so nice. He seemed to always be around. He would give me rides if he saw me walking around at nighttime. We ended up becoming very good friends.
Within a few months after meeting him, my apartment ended up getting raided. When it happened, my neighbor called me at work and told me. I was working at C3 at the time. I explained the situation to a travel nurse that I was working with. He knew of an AIDS hospice in Seattle Washington that was hiring and he said he could get me a job there. I had an old boyfriend from middle school that moved there and we were still in contact. It just so happened that he was looking for a roommate. That night I slept with Larry for 3 minutes to say “Thank You” for keeping me safe. Then I went to the greyhound station and hopped on a bus for $49 and headed out to Washington. I know, it sounds like a movie. I arrived in Seattle. 9 1⁄2 weeks later I found out that I was pregnant with Larry’s child.
RADICAL LOVE
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Devin was born on September 21, 1998, on
The International Day of Peace
Seattle: Rosehedge, the AIDS hospice, accepted me with open arms. I started working there, the week that I arrived. The entire staff was part of the LGBT community. I attended my first Human Rights march, my first Pride Parade, and my first drag show, with my fellow employees. My co-worker was part of Dykes on Bikes and they introduced me to the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. It was the first time that I had a super crush on someone. I even got her initial tattooed on me, in a heart. Looking back on all of this, I am truly grateful for all of these experiences and connections. In 1999 I finally became comfortable with my own sexuality and “came out” to my co-workers. In 2000 I decided to move back to NY so that my son could grow up around my family. I returned to AMC and worked on C4, C3 and PACU as a Patient Care Technician. My son’s father moved down south with his family, so that I could raise my son safely in Albany, and not have to worry about his wife shooting me. While working at AMC, I became friendly with the Eastern Correctional Facility Officers that would come to AMC regularly. They piqued my interest in becoming a Correctional Officer. The female officer told me that she noticed how well I communicated with the Incarcerated Individuals. I was not intimidated, and I had good boundaries. She told me that I should apply. She explained that the job was 98% communication and the rest was a team effort. She explained that I didn’t have to be physically strong, but I needed to be mentally strong. Looking back, I see exactly what she meant, and she was correct. It was 2001, and Tomb Raider had just come out. I was looking for a career change and so I decided to apply for a Correctional Officer position in Vermont. I received an interview date for 9/12/2001. It is surreal to think about 9/11/2001. I was working at AMC that day. The news was on the TV in the waiting room. I was told to set up stretchers all along the hallway because we were expecting to receive the overflow of patients. Hours had passed and we didn’t receive any patients, because they had all died in the disaster. The theme here is, “War Is Real.” The next day I drove to Burlington Vermont for my interview. On the car ride I remember listening to Howard Stern on the radio. It was such a bizarre day. I was offered the job a week later and within the month I was moving to Vermont with my son and girlfriend. I learned alot from being a Correctional Officer. I was actually told by one of the Sergeants that I was "a female working in a man’s world.” Insinuating that any inappropriate and degrading comments directed towards me would not be considered sexual harassment in this world. I learned that there are several broken systems in society, and that it was not uncommon for generations of families to be incarcerated at the same time. I learned that the officers are sometimes more unhealthy than the people who are incarcerated. I learned that people just want to be listened to, and this can help decrease violence. I learned that a confined environment becomes safer if I help the keepers get healthier. I learned that I don’t get scared in violent situations, and I am a good conflict mediator. And I learned that I enjoyed hearing people's stories. After a period of time, with my mental health declining, I left the Vermont Department of Corrections and I job hopped for a while (vet tech, animal control officer, overnight staff at drug rehab for youth, per diem staff at a runaway youth shelter). Eventually I enrolled at Lyndon State College (LSC). My first major was Zoology, but I didn’t really enjoy the science classes so I switched to Anthropology. I became friends with four Sudanese refugees that were attending LSC. They were “Lost Boys” from Sudan. I learned alot about war, boy soldiers, and the Neur and Dinka cultures. For my Anthropology class, I traveled to Watamu Kenya, lived in a polygamous community, and wrote an ethnography on the Giriama tribe. After that semester I transferred to Southern Vermont College (SVC) because I started dating someone, and we moved in together. I did a year at SVC, and then transferred to Marlboro College to study African Politics and Conflict Resolution. After a year, a break up, and my son experiencing racism in his elementary school, we moved, and I transferred back to SVC. I graduated from SVC with a BA in Liberal Arts with a major in Human Services. I hopped around Vermont staying within the Human Services field. My favorite job was working for Healthcare and Rehabilitation Services (HCRS) in Springfield VT. I was the Intensive Outpatient Program care coordinator and the Substance Abuse Counselor at Green Mountain School. One of the students died in a car crash,while driving high on marijuana. Instead of the students partying their pain away, they created “The Effective Global Citizens”. We did several service learning projects, had afterschool programs, attended rallies, and hosted several community events. We planted a Peace Pole at Green Mountain High School.
When my son was around 11 years old he began making statements like, "I wish I was white." It was heartbreaking. I brought him to see a counselor, and attempted to surround him with as much diversity as I possible could in Vermont. I was homeschooling him at the time because a kid in his school threatened to shoot him in the head because he was Black. When my son turned 13, we moved back to NY. It was the best decision I have ever made as a parent. I was concerned that his fathers old issues may find us and retaliate, so I flew under that radar.
I will fast forward through the years, and I will pause momentarily in 2015. At this time I was working as a Program Director for a newly formed care coordination program. The clients we worked with had alot of needs, the majority of them were mentally unstable, and some of them also used substances. So it is a difficult population to help them maintain overall wellness. I received a referral for a person who was being released from prison with an extensive trauma history. He completed his 17 year sentence for attempted murder, and the last 7 of them were in solitary confinement. He was moving to his brother's house and was not going to be on any parole supervision because he completed his sentence. He was voluntarily reaching out for services, for us to help him with re-entry. I began working with him. I brought him to DSS and helped him complete the application and interview so that he could receive public assistance. I referred him into an outpatient co-occurring program. He was accepted into our housing program and he had a case manager through that program. He had support from his brother and his wife. He was also utilizing the re-entry services in the community. One day he showed up in my office, clearly under the influence of something, he was angry, scared, feeling overwhelmed and reported that he stopped taking his mental health medication. He requested to go to the hospital. He stated, “Call the sergeants, I need to be locked up!” Because of his history and his current mental state, I requested that the police help escort him to the ER. For safety purposes, I was not allowing him to ride with any of my staff. I notified his mental health provider and she called the ER to give them an update. I also called the ER and provided a status report. Unfortunately the hospital released him within 8 hours because he was “not a threat to himself or anyone else.” Within that week this client murdered one person, buried her in the basement, and he thought he murdered the other person, but that person was buried alive, and survived. That person was found buried alive and his body was decaying. Because I was the Program Director, myself and two other Program Directors were directed to go to the apartment building and clean out the apartments.
I remember it, like it was yesterday. The smell, I will never forget the smell. I remember seeing dusty black powder everywhere. It was the fingerprint ink from the crime scene. There was a purse on the bed with several women’s ID’s scattered around. I just remember thinking how bizarre it looked. I didn’t understand why the police did not remove these items for evidence. This is the moment that I knew I wanted to do more with my life, with my career. I was very interested in criminal minds, and why people do what they do. I was pretty sure that these ID’s were other victims, who were possibly dead. The police didn’t investigate anything other than the immediate crime scene. Within the month, the care coordination program was absorbed by another program and I was terminated. A lawyer wanted me to hire him so we could fight for “wrongful termination” but I just didn’t have the fight in me. I was very disheartened because I put my entire spirit into developing that program, and I felt that I was doing a good job. I also felt abandoned or discarded by my boss, whom I had a lot of respect for. The lawyer told me that they were using me as a scapegoat. I felt deflated. There are many more details to this story and this time of my life.
I hit a really dark place in my life. My friend told me to go to the Grafton Peace Pagoda where I could find Peace. At that time, I had a different plan for how I was going to find Peace.
Obituary“Carrie Lynn Livingston, 37, passed away peacefully on October 7, 2016. She was filled with Love and Light that she shared with the community. Carrie is survived by her son, Devin Livingston. Relatives and friends are invited to her celebration of life held at Grafton Peace Pagoda on October 15, 2016 at 11am. This is a place to share memories, laughter, food and love with each other. If possible, bring a dish to share for the community potluck meal. In lieu of flowers the family has requested that donations in memory of Carrie be made to her son Devin Livingston. Thank you, and remember her energy lives within each of you.
Ending Prayer“Look to the living, love them, and hold them.” I was fortunately “unsuccessful” with my very thought out suicide attempt. I remember going in and out of consciousness, while floating briskly down the hudson river. I remember the current being really strong. I ended up on shore somehow, pretty banged up. I remember how freezing I was. I just sat in the woods, looked up at the moon, and felt as if arms came down to blanket me with warmth. It was so bizarre. But I survived. Here I am, telling my story.
I went to the Peace Pagoda soon after that experience. I truly feel that Jun San and the Pagoda Family saved my life. I have walked several miles praying for Peace. Peace within myself, Peace within my friends and family, Peace within the community, and Peace within the World… NaMuMyoHoRenGeKyo…
I enrolled in the Forensic Mental Health program at Sage and I was hired by NYS Department of Corrections and Community Supervision (NYSDOCCS) as an Offender Rehabilitation Coordinator for the Sex Offender Counseling and Treatment Program (SOCTP).
See what I mean by a long strange trip it’s been. Even sitting here typing it doesn’t seem real. I worked at Shawangunk Correctional Facility. It is a supermax facility in the state. I facilitated the sex offender treatment groups, alcohol and substance abuse groups, and completed guidance and parole job duties. I liked that I was able to still help people, but I didn’t have to worry about their safety in the community. I was already aware of the characteristics of many correctional officers, the importance of safety and security, and the abnormal oddities that come from being in a confined world. I started to feel my light dimming. The environment was toxic. My co-workers were miserable. Everyday I had to listened to stories and write parole reports about rape, sodomy, bestiality, and murder. I felt physically and emotionally drained. I probably was also suffering from some residual trauma from the previous events that I had experienced. I felt that I needed to give my humanitarian spirit some more attention. So I applied to the Peace Corps and I was accepted. My supervisor said to me, “Carrie, the Department of Corrections will still be here when you come back. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Take it.” She is someone I look up to, and I am forever grateful for that guidance. A month later I submitted my resignation letter, cashed in my retirement, and volunteered with the All Hands And Hearts disaster response team for the Hurricane Michael Project in Florida, and the Oaxaca Earthquake in Mexico. In 2019 I began my service with the Peace Corps, as an Education Specialist. I flew to Malawi, Africa and was the Assistant Principal for Machinga Secondary School, and lived with the Chichewa Tribe. Life in Malawi, and this experience could take up another seven pages, so all I will say is that this experience connects with my Amnesty International experience. I was living in a country experiencing civil unrest, with people who were lacking basic human rights. The police were raping the women and young girls, the teachers were impregnating the students who were then forced to drop out, and there were no consequences. I was unsafe and felt helpless because I was unable to make changes. Due to security issues, I was evacuated, and came back to NY. It is now 2024, and I have rebuilt my life. I am working for NYSDOCCS again, in a warzone. I live in the same area as I did when I was 17 years old. I am active in my community helping to promote Ubuntu and healing. I pass out little positive thought notes, little wooden hearts that say love, a few Fcks, and write positive messages on the streets with sidewalk chalk throughout the community. I am known as “the love lady”. The people in the neighborhood have now been helping to distribute the little notes, a few Fcks, and Love throughout the community. I always felt like I had commitment issues because I could never sustain a romantic relationship for over two years, I would change jobs at least every two years, and I move to a different apartment every year. But after years of self analysis and therapy, I realized that I AM committed, I am committed to the community. I am committed to both my immediate community and the global community. So I married the community and legally changed my last name to Love. Now, throughout the prison, the word Love is spoken regularly, and is printed in several locations. My life has not been rainbows and sunshine. I have struggled with addiction, mental health, poverty, low self-esteem, low self-worth, trauma and abuse. Throughout these years and all of this life experience, has taught me to be resilient, creative, and brave. My motto is, “I’ll figure it out.” I have learned about many different cultures, looked at things from many different perspectives, experienced many hardships, and I have survived. My love for humanity has grown because I have a global perspective. I have obtained a masters in Forensic Mental Health, I am a credential alcohol and substance abuse counselor level 2, I am an Ordained Minister, and I created the not-for-profit Collective Souls Holding Space. I am currently focused on obtaining an LMHC. I am determined to open a Wellness Center through Collective Souls Holding Space, providing holistic services to the community. I literally “Carrie Love” in every piece of my life.
One of my mentors' words resonates with me, “At the end of the day, by staying true to the Me I’ve always known, I found that this journey has been incredibly freeing. Because no matter what happened, I had the peace of mind of knowing that all of the chatter, the name calling, the doubting… all of it was just noise. It did not define me. It didn’t change who I was. And most importantly, it couldn’t hold me back. I have learned that as long as I hold fast to my beliefs and values and follow my own moral compass – then the only expectations I need to live up to are my own.” ~Michelle Obama Who am I? I Love, therefore I am. I am Aquarius, the water carrier who represents uniqueness, individuality and purpose. Guided by love for humanity, I move with a visionary approach to change the world. The Universe has blessed me with a purpose, to share my gifts. I have been guided to embrace my true Self and spread love and light to all beings. I communicate with others with a compassionate, patient, and an empathetic heart. I put my entire Spirit into my ideas, nourish them and watch them come to life. I am an important part of our connected Universe. I am a messenger. I am a Seer. I am a Service Doer. I am a Dream Chaser. I am a Peace Worker. I AM LOVE.
When my son was around 11 years old he began making statements like, "I wish I was white." It was heartbreaking. I brought him to see a counselor, and attempted to surround him with as much diversity as I possible could in Vermont. I was homeschooling him at the time because a kid in his school threatened to shoot him in the head because he was Black. When my son turned 13, we moved back to NY. It was the best decision I have ever made as a parent. I was concerned that his fathers old issues may find us and retaliate, so I flew under that radar.
I will fast forward through the years, and I will pause momentarily in 2015. At this time I was working as a Program Director for a newly formed care coordination program. The clients we worked with had alot of needs, the majority of them were mentally unstable, and some of them also used substances. So it is a difficult population to help them maintain overall wellness. I received a referral for a person who was being released from prison with an extensive trauma history. He completed his 17 year sentence for attempted murder, and the last 7 of them were in solitary confinement. He was moving to his brother's house and was not going to be on any parole supervision because he completed his sentence. He was voluntarily reaching out for services, for us to help him with re-entry. I began working with him. I brought him to DSS and helped him complete the application and interview so that he could receive public assistance. I referred him into an outpatient co-occurring program. He was accepted into our housing program and he had a case manager through that program. He had support from his brother and his wife. He was also utilizing the re-entry services in the community. One day he showed up in my office, clearly under the influence of something, he was angry, scared, feeling overwhelmed and reported that he stopped taking his mental health medication. He requested to go to the hospital. He stated, “Call the sergeants, I need to be locked up!” Because of his history and his current mental state, I requested that the police help escort him to the ER. For safety purposes, I was not allowing him to ride with any of my staff. I notified his mental health provider and she called the ER to give them an update. I also called the ER and provided a status report. Unfortunately the hospital released him within 8 hours because he was “not a threat to himself or anyone else.” Within that week this client murdered one person, buried her in the basement, and he thought he murdered the other person, but that person was buried alive, and survived. That person was found buried alive and his body was decaying. Because I was the Program Director, myself and two other Program Directors were directed to go to the apartment building and clean out the apartments.
I remember it, like it was yesterday. The smell, I will never forget the smell. I remember seeing dusty black powder everywhere. It was the fingerprint ink from the crime scene. There was a purse on the bed with several women’s ID’s scattered around. I just remember thinking how bizarre it looked. I didn’t understand why the police did not remove these items for evidence. This is the moment that I knew I wanted to do more with my life, with my career. I was very interested in criminal minds, and why people do what they do. I was pretty sure that these ID’s were other victims, who were possibly dead. The police didn’t investigate anything other than the immediate crime scene. Within the month, the care coordination program was absorbed by another program and I was terminated. A lawyer wanted me to hire him so we could fight for “wrongful termination” but I just didn’t have the fight in me. I was very disheartened because I put my entire spirit into developing that program, and I felt that I was doing a good job. I also felt abandoned or discarded by my boss, whom I had a lot of respect for. The lawyer told me that they were using me as a scapegoat. I felt deflated. There are many more details to this story and this time of my life.
I hit a really dark place in my life. My friend told me to go to the Grafton Peace Pagoda where I could find Peace. At that time, I had a different plan for how I was going to find Peace.
Obituary“Carrie Lynn Livingston, 37, passed away peacefully on October 7, 2016. She was filled with Love and Light that she shared with the community. Carrie is survived by her son, Devin Livingston. Relatives and friends are invited to her celebration of life held at Grafton Peace Pagoda on October 15, 2016 at 11am. This is a place to share memories, laughter, food and love with each other. If possible, bring a dish to share for the community potluck meal. In lieu of flowers the family has requested that donations in memory of Carrie be made to her son Devin Livingston. Thank you, and remember her energy lives within each of you.
Ending Prayer“Look to the living, love them, and hold them.” I was fortunately “unsuccessful” with my very thought out suicide attempt. I remember going in and out of consciousness, while floating briskly down the hudson river. I remember the current being really strong. I ended up on shore somehow, pretty banged up. I remember how freezing I was. I just sat in the woods, looked up at the moon, and felt as if arms came down to blanket me with warmth. It was so bizarre. But I survived. Here I am, telling my story.
I went to the Peace Pagoda soon after that experience. I truly feel that Jun San and the Pagoda Family saved my life. I have walked several miles praying for Peace. Peace within myself, Peace within my friends and family, Peace within the community, and Peace within the World… NaMuMyoHoRenGeKyo…
I enrolled in the Forensic Mental Health program at Sage and I was hired by NYS Department of Corrections and Community Supervision (NYSDOCCS) as an Offender Rehabilitation Coordinator for the Sex Offender Counseling and Treatment Program (SOCTP).
See what I mean by a long strange trip it’s been. Even sitting here typing it doesn’t seem real. I worked at Shawangunk Correctional Facility. It is a supermax facility in the state. I facilitated the sex offender treatment groups, alcohol and substance abuse groups, and completed guidance and parole job duties. I liked that I was able to still help people, but I didn’t have to worry about their safety in the community. I was already aware of the characteristics of many correctional officers, the importance of safety and security, and the abnormal oddities that come from being in a confined world. I started to feel my light dimming. The environment was toxic. My co-workers were miserable. Everyday I had to listened to stories and write parole reports about rape, sodomy, bestiality, and murder. I felt physically and emotionally drained. I probably was also suffering from some residual trauma from the previous events that I had experienced. I felt that I needed to give my humanitarian spirit some more attention. So I applied to the Peace Corps and I was accepted. My supervisor said to me, “Carrie, the Department of Corrections will still be here when you come back. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Take it.” She is someone I look up to, and I am forever grateful for that guidance. A month later I submitted my resignation letter, cashed in my retirement, and volunteered with the All Hands And Hearts disaster response team for the Hurricane Michael Project in Florida, and the Oaxaca Earthquake in Mexico. In 2019 I began my service with the Peace Corps, as an Education Specialist. I flew to Malawi, Africa and was the Assistant Principal for Machinga Secondary School, and lived with the Chichewa Tribe. Life in Malawi, and this experience could take up another seven pages, so all I will say is that this experience connects with my Amnesty International experience. I was living in a country experiencing civil unrest, with people who were lacking basic human rights. The police were raping the women and young girls, the teachers were impregnating the students who were then forced to drop out, and there were no consequences. I was unsafe and felt helpless because I was unable to make changes. Due to security issues, I was evacuated, and came back to NY. It is now 2024, and I have rebuilt my life. I am working for NYSDOCCS again, in a warzone. I live in the same area as I did when I was 17 years old. I am active in my community helping to promote Ubuntu and healing. I pass out little positive thought notes, little wooden hearts that say love, a few Fcks, and write positive messages on the streets with sidewalk chalk throughout the community. I am known as “the love lady”. The people in the neighborhood have now been helping to distribute the little notes, a few Fcks, and Love throughout the community. I always felt like I had commitment issues because I could never sustain a romantic relationship for over two years, I would change jobs at least every two years, and I move to a different apartment every year. But after years of self analysis and therapy, I realized that I AM committed, I am committed to the community. I am committed to both my immediate community and the global community. So I married the community and legally changed my last name to Love. Now, throughout the prison, the word Love is spoken regularly, and is printed in several locations. My life has not been rainbows and sunshine. I have struggled with addiction, mental health, poverty, low self-esteem, low self-worth, trauma and abuse. Throughout these years and all of this life experience, has taught me to be resilient, creative, and brave. My motto is, “I’ll figure it out.” I have learned about many different cultures, looked at things from many different perspectives, experienced many hardships, and I have survived. My love for humanity has grown because I have a global perspective. I have obtained a masters in Forensic Mental Health, I am a credential alcohol and substance abuse counselor level 2, I am an Ordained Minister, and I created the not-for-profit Collective Souls Holding Space. I am currently focused on obtaining an LMHC. I am determined to open a Wellness Center through Collective Souls Holding Space, providing holistic services to the community. I literally “Carrie Love” in every piece of my life.
One of my mentors' words resonates with me, “At the end of the day, by staying true to the Me I’ve always known, I found that this journey has been incredibly freeing. Because no matter what happened, I had the peace of mind of knowing that all of the chatter, the name calling, the doubting… all of it was just noise. It did not define me. It didn’t change who I was. And most importantly, it couldn’t hold me back. I have learned that as long as I hold fast to my beliefs and values and follow my own moral compass – then the only expectations I need to live up to are my own.” ~Michelle Obama Who am I? I Love, therefore I am. I am Aquarius, the water carrier who represents uniqueness, individuality and purpose. Guided by love for humanity, I move with a visionary approach to change the world. The Universe has blessed me with a purpose, to share my gifts. I have been guided to embrace my true Self and spread love and light to all beings. I communicate with others with a compassionate, patient, and an empathetic heart. I put my entire Spirit into my ideas, nourish them and watch them come to life. I am an important part of our connected Universe. I am a messenger. I am a Seer. I am a Service Doer. I am a Dream Chaser. I am a Peace Worker. I AM LOVE.
I am sure that I have made my Grandmother proud.
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- Na Mu Myo Ho Ren Ge Kyo