saturday and sunday mornings at the homeless shelter have a surreal feeling of camp. sleepy people walking around catching up with others coming and going. pockets of people asleep, or annoyed by others waking them up too early. others looking through bags for a change of clothes. the air is quiet and cool. the spirit holds the freshness of a new day.
the similarities end quickly as the conversations become more audible, '... no man, it started raining so i had to sleep under the bridge.' 'two guys jumped me last night down by transit...' watching them interact, move through morning routines, you realize how easily it could be you there... Elijah used to be a bus driver. Mike a cop. Claire drove carpool and volunteered at the hospital. One of my classmates from high school walks by and and tells me he found another classmate on facebook... i wonder what he tells them he is doing now. Whatever he says i am sure it doesn't include sleeping at the train station and grabbing lunch everyday at the soup kitchen.
lunch begins and people file through the line. for the most part, everyone is courteous... inevitably they part by saying, 'god bless.' i could question this god they are speaking of, i could pull out all kinds of philosophical ideas and arguments; instead i decide to sit in the moment. to realize that in that second, none of the other stuff matters. the fact that they are going outside to survive on the street and i will be getting in my car to go home makes no difference because in that moment we both are merely human.
there needs to be more moments just like that one...
