Homeless is where the heart is

Today I came home at 9:16 am because I had an overnight shift at the crisis hotline. I think what I do there is really cool, talking on the phone to anonymous New Yorkers who need someone to speak with. Still I am a very small sprocket in this organization which I am so proud and in awe of. Nathanial is quite funny in the morning mostly because his eyes are swollen shut and he looks even more confused than usual. So Nathanial lets me in and it’s really cute, and then he goes back to bed. Starving, I check the fridge for a goat yogurt and I find that everything in aluminum foil is now unwrapped, half of my pre packed lunch for today is eaten, the raspberry container only has two berries left, a tablespoon of goat milk left in the carton, all of the bottles and containers that were once erect little duckies are now tilted and strewn about, and finally there is a brown bag of my “important documents” resting on the bottom shelf. Nathanial was really hungry. Nathanial had gone mad. Either way the dishes were done clean and sparkly on the drying rack and that’s all the fuck that matters.

Just moments earlier, I am riding the train home. A homeless man is begging for money, and I refuse. The cup is in my face and I pretend to be asleep. I snore. I drool. I do whatever it takes for him to go away. I don’t understand how I gave up a night of sleep on a holiday (it’s Memorial Day and my Sister’s B-day), but I can’t muster the will to spare a dime. I think about missing out on BBQs, beaches, and Danielle’s birthday, but when he says, “Even a penny will help,” I cringe and can not give even a penny more of myself. I decide I might as well not have any change, or I can’t be bothered to look through my bag. But truly, I’m stymied by the thought that if I give to him I’ll have to give to everyone. The guilt will never end. At the hotline, there is structure and we have limits. On the street it’s fluid and feels like the giving could get out of control.

I begin to wonder about the homeless person’s place in tribal society. What they are geared toward and why don’t they thrive in this world. I can relate, my impulsiveness and lack of direction. It’s not that I don’t want to stand for something, it’s just that I don’t know which side to stand on. [Since I left Company a year ago I have had at least a dozen different jobs: comedy tickets, mentoring kids, cleaning lady, babysitter, flyer distributor, crisis hotline, restaurant hostess, and Nathanial’s personal assistant. I’ve loved every position, except personal assistant, cause I had a crush on my boss and it was too complicated. ] Nathanial talks a lot about a Russian theorist named Yuri, who lectures on something called Krug. For some reason the words “Yuri” and “Krug” remind me of Super Mario brothers. Why is that? Yoshi and King Koopa. The idea behind Krug is that everyone is predisposed for some sort of task that was imperative in tribal times. Examples of roles are the Caretaker (me), Leader (Nathanial- self-proclaimed), Hunter, Warrior, etc. I wonder if there was an entertainer role- those who were taken care of by the others because they were enjoyable to have around. Maybe some had slightly notable talents, but mostly were just interesting and made for good company. To me that is the homeless person, and that is why they are entitled to spare change.

Tao Te BLING BLING:

When beauty is abstracted
Then ugliness has been implied;
When good is abstracted
Then evil has been implied.

So alive and dead are abstracted from nature,
Difficult and easy abstracted from progress,
Long and short abstracted from contrast,
High and low abstracted from depth,
Song and speech abstracted from melody,
After and before abstracted from sequence.

The sage experiences without abstraction,
And accomplishes without action;
He accepts the ebb and flow of things,
Nurtures them, but does not own them,
And lives, but does not dwell.