Reverend Steven Charleston is one of my favorite current-day mystics. He knows Native American and Episcopalian/Christian spirituality and he often speaks directly to my condition. I frequently repost here from him. Look for him and the Native American/Indigenous Ministries of the Episcopal Church on Facebook. The post here from Kaze Gadway also came from the Native American/Indigenous Ministries of the Episcopal Church page.
.
"Take what you can carry. My nomadic ancestors understood that principle down to a science. They knew that over-burdened people would not go very far. The art was having a good eye for a balance between what you want and what you can do. Somewhere, along that spiritual spectrum, is the sweet spot of not taking on more than you can handle. People with too much baggage can spread themselves thin trying to manage it all. To travel light, to plan for the long haul: take what you can carry."--November 20, 2022
Always on the Outside
Jake.'
Unsure if he breathes, I call out of my car window. “I have a sleeping bag, food and gloves.”
Since he doesn’t stir, I call out again. “Food, gloves.” He shifts and then sits up, putting his hat back on his head.
“I’m so cold, I don’t know if I am dead or not.”
Thankfully, someone had donated some coats so I handed him a coat with a hoodie. He quickly puts it on. I also hand him a sweater, socks, gloves and a sleeping bag along with the food. He dresses himself and puts the sleeping bag around his shoulders. Only then does he explore the bag of food and start eating the tuna and crackers.
Lastly, I give him a fast food gift card so he can get something hot to drink and maybe a taco.
Getting comfortable and a little warmer, he starts talking. “You know, I was just thinking about being a kid and looking at the toys in the window, knowing that I will never get any of them. I still feel I’m on the outside looking in. Will I always be on the outside? I used to have a job and an apartment until Covid hit and then I lost everything too quickly. I feel deserted but I don’t know by who or what. I met some poor women the other day. They still have an apartment and social security but they also feel outside—they can’t afford enough food or pay for enough heat. There are more and more of us who have been shoved aside while some live in comfort. How long can we live like this? It gets colder everyday. Thank you for noticing me. I thought I would die today.”
“I’m glad I saw you.” I said with a sad smile. “No one deserves to be forgotten. You have as much right to be comfortable as I do.”
He looks at me full in the face. “Thank you. I don’t know why that helps but it does. Thank you for stopping and for all these things. I might stay alive some more.” He laughs uncertainly and hugs the sleeping bag closely around him. “Thank you.”
Pete.
Pete and a friend run up to the car when I start handing out food and supplies to those gathered. His friend says, “Do you speak sign language? Pete can’t talk.”
The only signage I know is for I’m sorry and thank you but I am flustered and can only mouth “Here you are.” I put my hand on my heart.
He looks cold so I give him a vest and some gloves in addition to the food. He immediately puts the gloves on and strokes my arm. Then he signs “thank you,” and spells out “I love you,” with stiff fingers. We hold hands and I sign back, “Thank you.” He doesn’t want to let my hand go so we stay there a few minutes while we both enjoy the human contact.
I can’t imagine the intense isolation he must live in. Yet his face lights up and for a moment, we are bonded in warm friendship.
Laureen
I’ve seen Laureen before. She has a bounce to her step and an easy manner in talking. I feel like I’m with an old friend sitting down for a coffee. In reality, she is quickly eating the food I hand her and shivering a little in the cold. Delighted with her gloves, she rubs her hands together, showing them off to her friends who have also been given gloves.
She talks a little about her son who is in foster care. “I miss him so much but at least he is warm and fed. I get to see him every two weeks. It is the highlight of my life.”
“So what have you been doing this week?” she asks laughing. Again, I feel like we are not separated by her living on the streets and I in rented rooms but just two friends stopping to talk. It always amazes me how “normal” people are on the streets, not living up to some misinformed bias against those who are homeless. I see many more generous, peaceful, and determined people than the addicted, violent and lazy ones depicted in the press. Many unsheltered people are doing everything to get off the streets and back into a job and apartment.
Kaze
It’s up to me to convey acceptance to those I meet. There are multiple layers of problems for those who have lost their jobs, homes, families, just as there are multiple layers of issues for those who have jobs, homes and families. When people who seem to have everything open up to me with desperate knots they can’t unravel, with abuse and addiction in their homes, and with an insatiable appetite for more things, I marvel at the contrast with those at the bottom who seem to be more honest about themselves.
For those of us who care deeply for those on the outside, we look for practical ways to share our resources and reach out to provide human warmth. It is up to us to do what we can.
It is not up to us to turn the clock back so those who used to dominate can be on top again. It is up to us create authentic roles for all in our society, as broken as it is.
For me, I distribute food and supplies to those on the streets and provide human interaction with our little chats. It may not seem like much, but everyone (homeless or sheltered) needs to know that each one is valued and recognized.
I continue to hand out food and supplies until my car is empty.
Thanks to all of you who do what you can to share with those who have little. We are all in this together and it is not easy for any of us.
Continue to have mercy, to spread kindness, to nourish Mother earth, to be generous to the stranger, and to respect those you encounter. Embody hope. Laugh. Sing. Dance. Be thankful.---Kaze Gadway, November 20, 2022
"As people from many cultures and spiritual traditions, here is a simple statement of our common aspirations. We want peace among people around the world. We want the poor and the weak to be protected and cared for. We want the hungry to be fed. We want people of all walks of life to be safe and free from persecution. We want men and women to be treated with an equality of respect and opportunity. We want our planet to be restored to health. And finally, as we work together for these shared goals, we hope you will feel welcome to join us."---November 18, 2022
"Can you feel it? That slight change in the vibration of the Earth? That shift in the current of the wind? That sense that something is starting to happen. The elders say you can feel it in the air. You can see it in the behavior of the animals because they feel it too. It is the energy released when the infinite comes into the finite, when the sacred enters the everyday. A deep power can be felt, just beneath the surface of our reality. The Spirit has come. You can feel it."---November 17, 2022
"Again the angels come, riding the clouds that cover the moon, carried by the winter winds, darting in and out of sight, sacred apparitions, spirits of sky and earth, delivering messages like dreams, whispered into the ear of so many sleepers, words of encouragement, words of wisdom: do not let go, they say, but hold on to your hope, make fast your faith against all alarms, stand firm in the love you have known all your life, for the coming day will reveal the goodness of the Spirit, as the angels begin to sing."---November 16, 2022
No comments:
Post a Comment