Listen
I have seen some shit.
One of my gifts is one of healing for those in need. I guess because of this I find myself surrounded by suffering even when not looking for it.
I did not ask for this gift and contrary to what many probably believe of me, it is not something I naturally gravitated toward. I was raised to value human rights and be that good Christian boy. I was never taught the brutal reality of humanity. I was taught the world is bound for hell with little we can do other than to prepare people for eternity. I have found this to be a flawed ideal, lacking in compassion and love. I don’t think you can be taught what I have seen, what I have lived and for that I am grateful. It was through walking this path that I discovered my love of Mother and I found my passion in loving humanity despite its flaws.
I think about the homeless I left in Chicago from time to time. This winter as I was enjoying my first southern California winter I thought about Jeffrey. Jeffrey was a homeless man in his mid-40s. He was the icon on Chicago stop of the Red Line. Every morning he would greet those rushing off to work with his big smile and a pleasant “Good Morning!” Occasionally I would buy a second coffee at the Dunkin Donuts right off the stop and give it to him. He liked it with just a bit of sugar. One day I was walking around the block for lunch and saw him sitting on the steps of an empty building. The smile had long since faded and he was in his beggar mode. He looked me in the eye and asked for some change. I know you are never supposed to look the homeless in the eye, once you make that contact you better be prepared to explain how you “don’t have anything” to give. I have never been able to not make that contact though. So I stopped and said I did not have change for him but I did have an apple. We sat and had lunch together and that is when I began to learn more about Jeffrey, a native of Atlanta. I left him that day with a $20 bill. I told him to please not buy drugs with that, stick with a beer or two. One must be realistic in regards to what the homeless spend their money on! So this winter I remembered finding a sleeping bag with Jeffrey a few years back. I wondered how he was doing this year.
Those stories are images stored within my mind. Information added to enhance my view of the world and the importance of being open to listening to what a fellow human has to say. How much I have learned sharing drinks with homeless veterans! We choose to forget about them despite all they have given for our country; their bodies, and in this case their minds. It is easy for us to forget and I guess that is why the Universe set me within this place.
Love.
Images of broken relationships on my street.
Kids not sure where they belong in this world, desperately looking for someone to share just one moment with them. All they want is someone to show interest in their being.
Love.
Images of broken homes scattered for miles along a beautiful Gulf Coast.
Families not sure what the day will bring. They move through life hoping someone will listen. They don’t want help as much as they wish to be heard.
Love.
Images of darkness and scorching flames as they consume the forests, plants, and paths I shared with Mother.
Nature tired of the continuous trample of ignorant humanity begs to be heard. She is not looking for help as much as she wants to be heard.
Love.
As I watched Mother take away from us something that was never ours, I felt the urge to heal. We set aside pieces of Her in our arrogance. A park here and a park there, we hope She understands why it is we feel the desire to spread our disease like the locust we so despise. I don’t know how to ease Her pain. It is in the little things I know, but at this moment as sixty foot flames reached to the smoke filled night sky She cries for something more. I have worked disaster relief for over half my life and this was one of the most difficult situations for me to stand by and watch. There was nothing to be done. My lady and I walked up streets and down streets as we watched in disbelief at the intensity of this fire. We could do nothing. There was nothing to do but lay our hopes upon the expertise of the firefighters; on the ground and in the air. I realized then she does not want us to do anything until we listen. STOP what you are doing now! Listen! She will heal herself, we will not. She will live, we will not.
It was a night for Mother. Her cries turned to wrath.
“Wake up o slumbering nation! I am hurting, you must listen or perish.”
I have seen some shit.