Category: Compassion Cells

We did sleep out in cardboard boxes over the weekend. We felt a peculiar kinship with our homeless brothers & sisters by doing so & it opened out hearts to crave more understanding & empathy towards them.

Yes, there are too many misconceptions & harsh judgements to dispel towards the homeless among us, and this was just a running start. Guest speakers enlightened us a lot about the issue: the massive gap between minimum wage & the rising cost of housing is a major contributing factor towards homelessness; that there are many homeless workers, over homeless panhandlers; and that mental health, our attitude towards war veterans & the foster care system all play a role towards this crisis.

For all of us, it was an overwhelming event – one that will propel us forward & continually change our hearts.

I wish I could say that 2 nights out in the cold helped me appreciate my bed at home, however the guilt is unbearable. My friend Sukh says that everyone has his or her suffering. My struggles of shame & the difficulty of crawling under my warm blanket is a type of suffering all it’s own, I suppose. How do I choose to suffer, is that the real issue here?

Maybe if we were braving freezing temperatures, in total isolation, or scrounging through trashcans for food, the experience would have intensified. Frankly, our annoying cell phones, fancy flashlights, & freshly brewed coffee did mar the illusion a bit, however collectively, we were most sincere in our intentions.

There were a multitude of lessons to learn over this weekend, such us: whether we’re homeless or not, do we each live in our self-imposed “cardboard boxes,” whether it’s on job, within our relationships or the struggle to stay the course?

But, I finally came to terms with my own personal struggle towards this weekend.

The sense of camaraderie & community we felt as friends was most profound & I couldn’t help but wonder if our extended homeless family starved more for want of love over the need for food. As I relayed to KeKee, a beautiful man living outside the First Congregational Church of LB, as I hugged him: “I hope my warm embrace for you far outweighs the heat of this fleece blanket.” I looked into his eyes & their was a familiarity, a moment of oneness with him. 

Is any man truly homeless who has friends?

I’ll keep adding to these lists, while I gather my thoughts. (I love the idea of blogs as as living documents) 

These are just humble (initial) ideas:

Things I learned

• some ideas of about poverty
• alot of people identify it as a dividing line between fortunate and unfortunate
• there is a certain arrogance in our society that won’t allow us to ever come to terms with moving to make this world equal or just or truly free
• city officals even pass laws saying that we cannot share food with the homeless, thinking that in some way that will encourage them to live as marginalized 3rd class citizens. I think one of the messages in serving the food is to show these “leaders” that we want to teach them to share.
• the “engineer” in me views poverty as a self-made/man-made internal and external system that forces some marginalized part of society to view themselves through the eyes of those that fear and hate.
• when the Long Beach Grand Prix come to town the cops are told to arrest people on unpaid “being homeless” citation. You too can be ticketed if found loitering or standing with a backpack on the sidewalk.
• the field worker forced to work the Cocaine field in Peru is in poverty as is the young gang member in a gang module at County Jail, as is the person addicted to drugs, as is the little girl being abused by her father, as is the lonely forgotten senior citizen, as is the man labeld “deranged” my medical staff that don’t want to treat him properly for lack of a insurance card, as is the starving in Africa, as is the starving in America, as is anyone who feels opressed by the other side of society…

 

 

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