I was going to write something about homelessness, talking to a relative in Montana but before I did, I realized I don’t remember homelessness being a worry growing up.
As an adult I don’t remember a lot about homeless in Montana.
And a quick google search turned up very little and not much past 2011. At that point it said 1194 homeless. IN THE WHOLE STATE???
There are that many living under the bridges in Portland!!!
I have lived below the federal poverty line most of my adult life. And until I moved from Montana to WA and Or, I don’t ever remember worrying about being homeless.
And thinking back, I was homeless several times from the first time I was married til my daughter was around six. In the definition of homeless. Yet I don’t remember being “homeless”. Between homes, yes… Left a bad place, staying at a shelter, got a job, can’t be homeless.
Needed to leave again, no place to go, my mom came to pick me up… Not homeless, rescued.
Stayed in a few motels and our car for a couple of weeks when I was first married and a new mom, but we had a home…motel and car.
Left everything I knew and owned at 45 moved to another state and stayed with a friend, then another, and one more… Never was homeless, then.
I guess I have always felt home is where I hang my hat, contribute to the whole… Live, love and try to be happy. Home is where I am.
Today I live with friends and pay rent on an apartment I don’t live in ( to volatile a relationship) and have very little possessions. I do not have a “home” by the standards of my peers and family, but no one would consider me homeless.
Yet I feel I have no real place to hang my hat. A place that swallows my contributions into a black hole of helplessness.
Homeless and helpless. Two learned behaviors, two coping methods. Two things that are not me, two things I let happen while I was fighting other dragons.
I need to pull my sword out of that rock and get the fuck to my life!!!!
The burning question I have, is homeless a state of mind?
i tripped last night for the first time in a while off the bounty of the great PNW. My mind was briefly given the knowledge of the universe and the expanse of my own self exploded into the fabric that is our reality.
I love when this happens. The lucky few we are :).
Tough love is often a shield for a weak person to duck behind. It changes nothing,
I used to want to help change the world so that I did not have to change. I believed I had some control.
When that didn’t work, i believed i must control my thoughts, but that led me to depression.
So i sought unfamiliar knowledge, Buddha practices, I learned to let go and change nothing but my perspective.
Because changing myself was what I thought I did when I was trying to help the world change, I decided to just love myself, loose screws and all!
Loving myself forced me to look in the mirror at myself, not others.
Practicing loving myself gave me courage and compassion to love others… Loose screws and all.
It’s not easy…. This depth of courage. however with practice one by one, people who I see living this way, are finding me and I, them. And we celebrate by hearing one another and talking and practicing that same love and compassion with one another.
And it grows! It’s getting fucking huge. I am blessed. It is sometimes gut wrenching painful and at once blissful beyond human understanding.
Suddenly I want German food. A sunny day, people I love.
Remove yourself from the situation, change it, or accept it totally. If you want to take responsibility for your life, you must choose one of these three options, and you must choose now. Then accept the consequences. No excuses. No negativity. No psychic pollution. Keep your inner space clear.