There are moments that change you, almost haunt you.
I was driving to the grocery store last week on that particularly beautiful sunny day and as I waited at the red light in my turning lane, a homeless gentleman caught my eye on the median. He was younger than I usually see, and his energy almost took on a life of its own. I dug through my wallet for the last of the bills I had and waved him over to me. I realize there are many schools of thought on how to best serve our homeless community and I have chosen to simply follow my intuition about who to help, realizing that I know nothing about who they were before they ended up on the street corner, or what they’ll do with the money I give them. For me, it’s about doing what I can, when I am compelled. Certainly, I know this, these people are humans in need of connection and compassion even if all I can give them is a smile. He was very gracious and began a lively conversation with me about how the sunshine was medicine and made him feel glorious. Then he asked me what my plans were and suggested it might be the perfect afternoon to drive out to Jordan Lake. I smiled at the idea. I agreed with him, thanked him for brightening my day with his attitude and turned toward my destination on my green light.
But you know what I really wanted? I wanted to just open my car door, say jump in, and offer this man a ride to Jordan Lake complete with a picnic. Just because.
It was deeply disheartening that I couldn’t do that. Obviously, Covid, being an unaccompanied woman, him being a stranger and a myriad of other reasons made it impossible. Yet, for a small, lovely, unencumbered snippet of time I just felt this pure human emotion of wanting to be inclusive. I yearned to help another human being feel like he had something to look forward to. A glimmer of hope perhaps, for both of us. The truth is I have the luxury of going to Jordan Lake whenever I want and whether I do it or not is beside the point. I don’t know this young man’s name or story, I don’t need to. I just know that I walk this earth because of the grace of good people. I’ve been a fiercely hard worker my whole life and also have been really down on my luck before. I’ve gone without. I’ve been on both sides of a bread line and let me tell you that it is a humbling offering, ladling soup as you meet the pleading eyes of adolescent, hungry children who possess no spite, only quiet humility for your small gesture. Fewer images in life will touch your soul so profoundly. So indelibly.
Likewise, it is almost submissive having to ask for yourself, as a supposedly functioning, capable adult, for a meal for which you feel neither worthy or entitled. And I did not feel worthy, I felt the dark sting of shame. Nevertheless, I was treated with dignity and goodness. No one asked how I got there or made me quantify my presence or intentions. I’m not exaggerating when I say there was a season in my life when I was just a few friends away from being in a completely different situation. With all encompassing appreciation, I acknowledge that I have been embraced by human kindness during my challenges, buoyed by the generosity and compassion of friends who understood. Who saw me, beyond my circumstances. Something shifts in you when you’ve done everything you can to help yourself and you still can’t seem to get on your feet. As your resilience kicks in, there is also an intense level of longing to shelter all the broken hearts around you because you have seen the fragility of life, the sameness of our wounds, the thread of vulnerability in our very existence.
If it doesn’t change you, you’re not paying attention.
I have had many experiences that have humbled me in regards to homeless and struggling fellow travelers and last week stayed with me. It’s hard to give appropriate language to, but this very organic communion brought this young man joy and actually did more to create a change in me. To share the empathy I had with such abandon and a spontaneous desire to do something even though I couldn’t, exposed feelings that cracked me wide open. That singular experience taught me a powerful lesson about my capacity to more fully see people around me without the trappings of labels, judgement or status. Every human deserves to be truly seen. I think throughout this pandemic I have felt, like many, that my world has become very small. All of a sudden, on the street that day, I was one with the universe and one other person who I knew nothing about except that we were there, together.
The overwhelming takeaway was this, to always practice gratitude, to notice and never ignore the emotions that nudge me toward kindness. In itself, it is a life giving force.
I love you.