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As you likely know, my name is Kabir Kadre, and I am partnering here with Help Hope Live, a registered 501(c)(3) nonprofit, in part because they provide both tax deductibility and fiscal accountability to those who wish to support the medical costs of my life with Spinal Cord Injury and the resulting quadriplegia and paralysis.

Updates (9)

June 22, 2022

Learning of my recent acute conditions, my dear friend Molly offered the most endearing letter, asking if we would be all right for her to share with family and friends.

I was brought to tears, and speechless.

Molly has a beautiful writing style, wry wit, and insightful mind, you can learn more about her at her website: mollyjhalfman.com

Molly's letter…

“I have a profound admiration for Kabir. The journey of our relationship has evolved from my first perception of him as a soft, eccentric man with the title of my new boss, to a man I adore and hold a lot of space for in my heart. He has become a loved one. From meeting him in the first year of the pandemic, through the following six months that I was his caregiver, to nearly two years later when I strut into his home to announce my pregnancy, he has had an immense impact on my life.

The first time I fed Kabir, who is a quadriplegic, I spilled soup on his lap. Likely noting the awkward shift in my demeanor and regretful expression on my face, Kabir looked at me with a grin, shook his head, and said:

“I can’t tell you how much this doesn’t matter right now,” and continued joyfully with his inquisition into my life.

We have wept together over poetry and personal stories of love and loss. We have celebrated both life’s little and not-so-little victories, watched movies in his bed, giggled like schoolgirls, and meditated in somber silence. We have witnessed each other stumble; from emergency catheter flushes, to unexpected bowl program outcomes, to the frenzy of mucus-blocked airways. We have experienced each other at our most vulnerable; from poop stains to infected bed sores to Kabir gracefully calming me down amidst an otherwise neutral moment’s panic attack in his living room.

To bear witness to Kabir’s financial hardship as he struggles to keep his care ecosystem (his livelihood) afloat brings me such angst and sorrow. An example of the failed healthcare system we live in where someone like Kabir cannot receive quality, affordable care. But Kabir’s smile and relentlessly positive energy will keep on keepin’ on because that’s who he is, and I imagine that given what he’s overcome, there is nothing life can throw at him that he cannot conquer with grace.

Please contribute to Kabir’s care cause so he can focus less energy on his survival and continue positively uplifting his community.

helphopelive.org

[She included photos (see photo album on the campaign page!)]

1. The day I broke my pregnancy news to Kabir and our friend Vanessa:

2. My favorite photo:

3. When Kabs got me a box of menstrual tea to keep at his house for when I was working, and another to take home, because I was a hot mess."

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You are welcome, and of course encouraged to follow her suite if you are so moved, we've used her letter as a foundation to support others to share with their networks, feel free to cut-and-paste from below!

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[

“My friend Kabir is a quadriplegic and needs our support. I’m sharing this because [what Kabir means to me. Fill in the blank :-) (include a photo of us if you have one! :-)]

helphopelive.org

Here is a telling piece written by one of his former caregivers, Molly:

“I have a profound admiration for Kabir. The journey of our relationship has evolved from my first perception of him as a soft, eccentric man with the title of my new boss, to a man I adore and hold a lot of space for in my heart. He has become a loved one. From meeting him in the first year of the pandemic, through the following six months that I was his caregiver, to nearly two years later when I strut into his home to announce my pregnancy, he has had an immense impact on my life.

The first time I fed Kabir, who is a quadriplegic, I spilled soup on his lap. Likely noting the awkward shift in my demeanor and regretful expression on my face, Kabir looked at me with a grin, shook his head, and said:

“I can’t tell you how much this doesn’t matter right now,” and continued joyfully with his inquisition into my life.

We have wept together over poetry and personal stories of love and loss. We have celebrated both life’s little and not-so-little victories, watched movies in his bed, giggled like schoolgirls, and meditated in somber silence. We have witnessed each other stumble; from emergency catheter flushes, to unexpected bowl program outcomes, to the frenzy of mucus-blocked airways. We have experienced each other at our most vulnerable; from poop stains to infected bed sores to Kabir gracefully calming me down amidst an otherwise neutral moment’s panic attack in his living room.

To bear witness to Kabir’s financial hardship as he struggles to keep his care ecosystem (his livelihood) afloat brings me such angst and sorrow. An example of the failed healthcare system we live in where someone like Kabir cannot receive quality, affordable care. But Kabir’s smile and relentlessly positive energy will keep on keepin’ on because that’s who he is, and I imagine that given what he’s overcome, there is nothing life can throw at him that he cannot conquer with grace.

Please contribute to Kabir’s care cause so he can focus less energy on his survival and continue positively uplifting his community.

helphopelive.org

The day I broke my pregnancy news to Kabir and our friend Vanessa:

My favorite photo:

When Kabs got me a box of menstrual tea to keep at his house for when I was working, and another to take home, because I was a hot mess.

You can read him in his own words in the latest campaign update at the link above, AND follow his writing, both global in scope and deeply personal at his newsletter, here: wisdominquiry.substack.com

You can also follow the exquisite writing journey of Molly at her blog, here: mollyjhalfman.com mollyjhalfman.ck.page

]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

June 9, 2022

About navigating through the pandemic and my more recent circumstances and why we are reviving this funding outreach…

Six months now past the first of the year, and one year into the duration of our stay here in the home of our landlord, Frank, the pandemic whispers on…

What a journey it is. A year and a few days ago I came out of the five day zoom video meditation retreat which would mark the first week in the new home. Since then, my meditation instructor, good friend, and profound guide has passed away not long ago, and much more has transpired domestically.

At the writing of my January update this year, funds were, for the moment, flush, but care was nonetheless somewhat precarious. Today the reverse is true, but with somewhat heightened dramatic undertones.

Where a shortage in care can often be managed by staying in bed and calling on friends for meals and minor support, the shortage of monetary means can lead to much more substantial changes.

Here I can hear Charles whispering in my ear, “the writing must be real, it must be plain, it must be true and naked, do not dance around the facts, but put them boldly to be seen.”

In the absence of money, continuity of care is broken. With the break of that care, one becomes essentially a ward of the state. While I have not toured this condition extensively, my one brush with it proved terrifying enough.

The following is excerpted directly from a journal from November 6, 2020 (see previous update for further detail), typos and formatting have been left intact for posterity. The piece was written from a dark room, I was ill, infected, and awaiting departure to return to the hospital…

-----------------------------------------------------

2:30 PM. Ambulance transport is due In one hour.

The skilled nursing and recovery center I arrive to yesterday evening on promises of the bowel care that functions for me, has reversed their position on the matter.

This leaves me a day down in my health, and back to square one with the hospital discharge efforts of the previous week.

This brief text to Dr. Mike this morning summarizes the journey here so far:

“ Definitely still figuring out the situation here:

Loud TV [of nightmarish content] all night, no antibiotics, no functional call button, no bed controls, no breakfast yet. Still awaiting doctors orders for bowel program.”

They didn’t get much better from there. Continued broken promises from the admissions officer, culminating in the final disappointment bringing us to this moment.

Meanwhile aunt Mary and Elisa have been generously organizing to help prepare the house for sale and Ahlea has begun the efforts of locating subsequent living.

My capacity to function from within this place has been dramatically limited.Poor cell service in combination with an inability to choose when and for how long I have access to my phone has made work in possible and communication strained at best.

If I can survive this treacherous waters, the post Mortem dBrief should be rather profound.

Sent from my iPhone

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This is as plain as it gets. I have spent the past few months (through yet another substantial hospitalization, this time for pneumonia) contemplating the reality described above. Contemplating, dreading, until I realized that whatever the outcome I would have to live through it with an open heart.

Rather than continuing to dwell on that more obvious path, I begin to fill my mind with more positive thoughts of possibility and creativity.

Indeed, this time of global upheaval and transformation has made the perfect storm for anyone willing to practice returning again and again to an open heart. Though by now, any of us in that practice can be forgiven for wondering just exactly how tempered these hearts are meant to become. ;-)

My writing has begun to expand, I now have a book in the early stages of editing. My focus continues to hone in on the question of “how best may I be of service to the greatest number.” I have begun to structure a podcast, and have found myself in exploratory conversations with new contacts around the world about projects that I’ve longed to inhabit for decades.

I am struck by the juxtaposition of the sense of fertile soil, so many hard but rewarding lessons learned (about finance, economics, partnership, community, transparency, agency, and vulnerability…) over the years of this pandemic. I feel prepared for something, and at the same time I, myself without the means, alone, to take the next step.

To that end I have begun to reach out to my community. In parallel to and with this campaign, I am seeking a cohort of patronage for the period of one year, holding a faith in myself and the divine possibilities of the cosmos that something more lasting can be built from so much hard work over recent years, and that bridging that window of time can take my brain out of survival mode and more fully into generosity.

The idea is to generate a community of folks who could each offer support, perhaps even monthly for the period of one year.

The monthly average cost for my care and stability is closer to $18,500, and the funding goal would be set to $20,000 (about an 8% cushion).

One of the first replies introduced me to a former immigration attorney who has already got me further along the process of the public support maze of bureaucracy than we have ever managed to get before… New angels abound. :-)

I will certainly have to send another update in a month or so as that is the threshold point by which the path forward will be quite clearly decided.

In the meantime, thank you for reading this far, and if you are interested in a personal discussion of the above patronage program, by all means please do reach out!

Otherwise, perhaps you will consider something more modest, but perhaps nonetheless ongoing. :-)

To make your donation recurring, just check the box for "Monthly Donation!" Also drop by my publication on Substack to follow along with Life as Art (wisdominquiry.substack.com)

In love,

Kabir

Photo Galleries (4)

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Guestbook

January 1, 2022

Sending love to you at the end of a difficult year. Thank you for your continued example of loving through difficulty.

Eve & George Akeman

January 4, 2021

Blessings blessings blessings
Field of Love support

Martha Barclay

January 1, 2021

You're a bright light in what was a dim year - you are loved!

Eve & George Akeman