Monday, November 14, 2011

Absorbing The Ink...


~ Absorbing the Ink~
Under the Ink… Newsprint Lives


For some of us, the news becomes a way of life… not so much for
the news and stories held within its pages, but rather a blanket wrapped
around us, and as padding laid over the hard ground, as we try to stave
off the chilly night air that descends like a waterfall for those of us facing
life on the streets-- living, breathing and feeling every nuance of Mother Nature.

Absorbing the news, in the deepest sense. Substituting the warmth produced
by trees in place of the human connections were so readily deprived of.
And in the process, learning more about the world around us, as well as
around the world. Reading the news that covers our lives, while it darkens
our skin and the sheets provide cover from the elements...
until it gets really wet and the papers stick to us and then disintegrates
all over us, drying to you like it had been adhered with by glue.

Sometimes hiding things wrapped in newspaper as to give the
impression we carry nothing of value, or allow for a brief time
to store something where no one will think twice about it.
People see trash everywhere, most don't bother to clear it up,
but pass the buck to others... having someone else clean their messes.
And for those of us on the streets sometimes rely on this as a means
to keeps things safe from being taken or thrown away.

People are often amazed that we are well versed in many topics and
enjoy the stimulation that communication brings… welcoming the
chance to connect with someone, however briefly that may be.
More often than not, we are regarded through the lens of
indifference, hate and ugliness from all directions. So much so,
that this is what overshadows love….

You feel as though huge parts inside you begin to
corrode and disintegrate from the harsh words and
remarks so cruelly tossed our way…
Cardboard Lives….

You'll find us everywhere, but we seem to become invisible to others
unless it is just to direct their brutality to... under bridges, on park
benches, in doorways... trying to just be without being.

Our belongings, our very existence.... seen as nothing more than debris
that needs to be cleared away. People believing that we could not possibly
have anything that means something, nothing with heart value... after all, 
your life is disposable, so nothing you carry with you should have 
any meaning, perhaps this is why we are stripped of the very 
threads holding our lives together, as they try to destroy those 
very threads of our lives. It means nothing to them to
strip us so bare of the barest essentials.... it only matters 
if you have that luxurious roof over your head.

Finding shelter, food, restroom facilities, clothing.. the barest, most basic
essentials a person needs becomes an ever-increasing challenge to 
find (and use) when you are forced out on the streets. Breathing, 
warm water, hot fresh meals are things most of us take for granted, 
until those very things are taken from you and then they become 
out of reach, but deeply sought after, luxuries. Your existence 
dismissed as you find your presence is no longer accepted, 
much less welcome in society, readily cast to the wayside while 
people have been scripted, either consciously or unconsciously, 
to go out of their way to make our lives an ever-greater hell.

Relying on Mother Nature for the basic necessities of life...
turning to her beautiful creatures for love, comfort and the warmth to
soothe and heal your heart, body, mind, and soul....Finding Nature at once both
accepting and rejecting, sometimes stripping your soul completely bare,
other times embracing you and lifting you higher than you thought possible.
The songs of Her Chorus... filling your heart, the beauty, the calm and peace
that surrounds you and fills your senses that the crisp air of the mornings bring,
the colors exploding all around you.... Letting Her become fully absorbed
in your bones and reaching the deepest levels of your soul.

Watching and learning from the Masters in Nature on how to survive,
 opening  your heart more, your senses come alive at Nature's touch.



By Renee Bowen
Homeless since Sept. 1, 2000
© 2011










No comments: