~ The
Courage to Breathe
~
A
Life From The Streets
The
emptiness filling your soul as you wake to yet another morning of
being out on the streets --- Forced into circumstances you didn’t
choose and couldn’t have imagined in your worst nightmare, has
become my life. Every morning pasting a fake smile on my face that
I really don’t feel and drudging along through another day of Hope,
sprinkled heavily with despair. My heart closing tighter in my
chest-- Looking forward to and dreading facing another day, another
night.
The
shadows displacing the echoes of fear….
The
Whispers of Hope through the gentle touch of loving kindness when it
is bestowed from someone who really cares-- A rarity to behold and
treasure. Shown the briefest glimpse of Humanity. Being shown
such vicious contempt more often than not when you no longer have the
privilege or luxury those four precious walls and solid roof afford
you.
The
gift and blessing that gentle touch brings to your heart, your
soul--- gives you the courage to breathe, the courage to make it
through another night, and face another day. The courage to keep
your heart open to love, the courage to face the ignorance, hate, and
violence with love and not lower yourself to become someone different
by acting out with the same.
The
harsh cruelty you have to contend with day-in, day-out starts to
harden your heart, filling the depths like wet cement; yet we’re
drying out on the inside. The violent assaults, both verbally and
physically simply because of a circumstance we didn’t choose but
are forced to endure; Yet, we’re the ones considered CrAZy,
unbalanced, unstable. Given these labels the moment your home is so
abruptly taken from your life, so society unleashes their full fury
toward you like a wild fire spreading through the forest. Given
full clearance to show their ugliness in full, disgusting
glory—Simply because we no longer have that precious commodity
called a H O M E.
Being
accused of stealing your own water when you go into a store to use
their restroom—Demanding to see the receipt for a nearly empty
bottle with no label on it, but they insist ‘they sell that brand’.
Followed around like you’re a criminal because you carry a bag on
your shoulder-- Yeah, I’m obviously NOT carrying enough weight and
looking for even more to carry. No matter how clean and presentable
you are, you’re automatically guilty of stealing what you take in
with you and carry with you at all times when you walk in with a bag
on your shoulder—Because we obviously came in to STEAL something,
why else would we have a bag on our shoulder???
Almost
compelling you not
to go out of your way to be clean, to find, at last, some way to get
that precious roof over your head and continue to push against the
never-ending doors being slammed hard in your face-- Just succumb
to the inevitable of being the human waste of society. Give up on
caring, on love, ….on life, the way society wants you to, expects
you to.
Discarded
as a Human Being the very moment the stars in the skies become your
roof and the trees and bushes become your walls. Your living room
transforms into the park benches you find during the day just to rest
your tired, blistered feet and swollen ankles for the briefest of
time before you have to push forward and move on once more. The
tread soon wearing quite thin from the endless miles being put on
them---
Given
the worst looks when you finally find SOME PLACE just to sit for the
briefest of time, even when you are boarding and riding the bus,
people make their comments about ‘your bags’, demanding to know
‘why’ you carry so much, leave it at home-- We can only dream of
the day when we don’t have to carry our life, or what’s left of
it around with us. People will look at you like you’re an alien
if you happen to be walking around, and being out in the wind all
night, haven’t had the chance to see why people are giving you such
disgusted looks as you make your way to the nearest open and
available restroom. Then understanding their disdain with your
presentation. Your hair standing on end, looking like you kept a
few wet fingers a little too close to some light sockets.
And
when you add a disability to this, especially one of a physical
nature, the violence escalates to an even higher degree. People
going out of their way to be so very cruel, mean, and nasty toward
you and to you, because society deems what is ‘Tolerated’ and
what will NOT be when you have a disability and you have to move and
present yourself within the narrow confines prescribed and set forth
by society. Trying to ‘Prove’ that you’re ‘faking’ it—you
must be, because you are not MOVING the right way, at least not in
the way that society has prescribed as what is ACCEPTIBLE, PERMISABLE
AND ALLOWABLE in the way you move, act, and present yourself---
They literally go tripping you up, pushing you hard into the ground,
assaulting you from every angle; both in the violence, ignorance, and
hate of their words, as well as by and through their violent actions
and behaviors directed fully at you, making very rude, caustic
remarks in passing. Laughing their asses off as you walk by—because
you’re just the
funniest damned thing they ever did see. Some, unconvincingly,
try to cover their ignorant laughing by coughing or clearing their
throats-- feels the same regardless of the method and tactic they
use! All I can hope is that at some
point in their lives when something happens TO
them or to someone they care about, that impairs their mobility in
any way that they have their own ignorance measured back to them.
Cast
off from society, from life… From love… Not wanting to face
another moment cast aside along the debris of the gutters and forced
to contend with the ugliness of humanity. Reminding yourself to
remember to breathe-- something that comes so naturally to most
becomes a chore when you’re on the streets. Discouragement flows
through the flood-gates from the endless rivers of disappointments
coming to you from all directions and from every avenue—
Being
continually denied assistance, employment, nourishment to the heart,
soul as well as to the body. It takes courage to keep pushing
forward, breathe and endure another day trying to find the slightest
crack where a little hope may yet reside, looking for any sign that
your efforts aren’t in vain. It becomes a race to not
let discouragement take the reins and release your grip , allowing it
to fully take over.
It
takes courage to breathe in the absence of love, it takes courage to
breathe when your presence is an unwelcome intruder. People only
pretending to care when and how it suits them and then only when it’s
comfortable for them to do so.
It
takes courage to breathe when your heart is shelled out, then scraped
raw like the insides of a melon-- people believing one could turn
off their hearts like a faucet, turn love on and off as it suits
them-- not realizing the devastation left in their wake--
pretending to love you one minute then turn into someone you no
longer know as they hit you with such open hostility for opening your
heart and allowing them access to the precious parts within, taking
hold of it, mutilating it, then rip it from your chest, eliminating
it from their lives.
By
Renee Bowen
Homeless
Since Sept. 1, 2000
©
2006 All Rights Reserved
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