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










A Few clips from the newsprint...



3rd Article Written for Column, Printed 10/5/06




3rd Article Printed, 2nd one written, though chopped up and twisted around-- not what I had sent in.



Nice people, raccoons help warm things up

I USUALLY END up with a raccoon snuggled around my neck shortly after midnight, and my neck warmer returned last night bringing a friend with him.
He had been gone for the past several nights, but I woke at 4:45 a.m. to cozy warmth with him wrapped around my neck, resting his head on my chest and his friend was circled and draped over my feet.
I didn't want to get up, but I needed to before passers-by started walking and biking through with their dogs to start the day.
Lifting him off me before I can rise, and regretting the moment I do as the warmth he provided quickly replaced by the icy-cold fingers of the chilled wind sending shivers through my body.
Talking to my friends of the night before I venture off for the day; being surrounded by my friends throughout the night, every night, always lifting my spirits with their very presence.
I'm pretty drained this morning, didn't get much rest at all -- another migraine made its fierce slicing, vise-squeezing presence way through just after 2 a.m., leaving me shaky and nauseous this morning, grateful that the sun hasn't made it's way through the fog yet.
Being Sunday, it makes it more of a challenge to get fully cleaned up for the day -- everything and every place opening so late, if at all.
I end up having to walk nearly two miles up the road to a restaurant, asking if I could use their restroom.
Coming out of the restroom, I'm blessed by an angel with a hot cup of coffee being handed to me as I start to leave.
Allowed to sit for a while inside while I drink the cup of heaven, pulling out my notebook to write as I enjoy my coffee -- my morning looking better by the moment.
The heat from the cup a welcome relief from the cold in my hands, and one I'm truly grateful to have been given.
Having no place to keep my bags, I have to carry them day and night, taking a heavy toll on my body, causing my legs to buckle further and my arms give way.
Another morning having to endure an empty stomach, save for the precious heavenly drink of coffee. Learning to ignore the pangs and pain of an empty stomach sitting empty far too often, learning to forget about food and block out all references to it as much as possible.
Hot, nutritious meals a privileged luxury that is a rare treasure, and bestowed in very limited quantity, when it is afforded, which is few and far between.
People only seeing the outside appearances, not what's happening on the inside -- they look at me and tell me "You look fine," without bothering to look beyond the cover, even then it's only in passing.
Drinking a lot of water to fill the void.
Renee Bowen has been homeless since Sept. 1, 2000. She writes a monthly column on the homeless in Walnut Creek.







Thursday, Feb 01, 2007
Walnut Creek Journal
Posted on Thu, Feb. 01, 2007
RENEE BOWEN: ON THE STREETS
Relief from winter's grip not easy to find on streets

THIS PAST HOLIDAY season has turned into such a blessing. Indebted gratitude to some very special angels bringing such incredible gifts to my heart, bringing a little holiday "magic" to my life.

These rare few who brought their love, warmth and generosity to me turned an otherwise bleak season into one of warmth and caring. I'm deeply grateful for their beautiful light brought into my heart, and in my life, making my holiday much brighter.

With the onset of the colder weather, the mornings are dragging out longer. The sun is taking its time before coming to work and then takes leave early, long before the day is over, pulling the heavy blanket of darkness over our heads -- making it both a blessing and a curse when you have to live on the streets.

Finding drinkable water is becoming more of a challenge as the pipes begin to freeze -- having to do your clean-up in the icy water once you're able to get your body to move. Waking to wet clothes from the frost that settles over you through the night, surrounds you, and wraps you in its cold sleeve, as you attempt to get some rest, and you have to be extra careful moving around in the early mornings as the sidewalks and walkways become slick with ice.

Your nose turns into a constant river flowing fast and free, a river that doesn't stop. Your chest tightens and feels like a vise is squeezing and constricting your lungs, making breathing more of a challenge, feeling like you are congested when you are not. And when every place closes for the night, where do you go?

The warmth is withdrawn and vacuumed away from you; the shelter evaporates all around you, and the cold blankets you in its icy embrace. The heavy layering of clothing doesn't ward off the chill that settles deep within your bones.

Always on constant vigil 24/7, never knowing if you can safely close your eyes or for how long when you do.

Finding yourself cuddled with an assortment of animals through the colder nights, huddling against you to help stave off the winter's chill, ones that you would never find yourself going up to but rather go in the other direction if they approached. However, the rules change when you are living on the streets.

Rats, opossums, raccoons, lizards and a variety of other wildlife, including insects -- all looking for that precious warmth; wherever they can find it. And this is usually with your person when you share their space.

The colder it gets, the harder it becomes to move with any fluidity.

When you go inside some place that's warm, you find the warmth hardly penetrates through the layers of cold before you find yourself outside once more, not afforded the opportunity to warm your body completely.

Another day passes by, leaving me in its wake. I'm just taking it moment by moment, breath by breath and go where that takes me. My throat becomes raw from breathing in the constant cold air throughout the night. Feeling drained as a deepening despair takes hold of my heart wrapping itself around me like a cloak. Learning to live with all of nature's beauty and her harshest extremes in weather, all the animals that soon become your confidantes and companions of warmth when night falls.

For those rare few who brought their warmth and love to my heart this past holiday season, touching it with a glimmer of hope, it is deeply appreciated. Thank you.

Renee Bowen has been homeless since Sept. 1, 2000. She writes a monthly column on the homeless in Walnut Creek.








April 07 Column, Printed 4/19/07 in response to letter to the editor.
Letter to the editor Link and Copy, followed by column link and copy. 8th one printed, 7th one written for column.

Letter to editor

Column writer asked about her homeless state
Contra Costa Times
Article Launched: 03/30/2007 03:09:53 AM PDT

Each month I read the Renee Bowen: On the Streets column on being homeless in Walnut Creek. Her tagline states that she has been homeless since Sept. 1, 2000, -- 61/2 years!

Recently, she wrote of difficulty finding her preferred vegetarian diet in the meals offered to homeless people. She states that she does not look or smell like the typical homeless person. She is not on drugs, and it is apparent that she can write well.


So, one wonders, why in six plus years she has been unable to find any sort of employment? Not even a part-time job at Target? I always see signs that they are hiring. While this employment would not buy a condo in Walnut Creek, it would certainly allow her to buy her own food.

Is it fair to inquire as to how many job interviews she has attended in six years? Any entry level job would allow her the opportunity to get back into the working world and move on from there.

I hate to sound coldhearted, but I get weary of reading of her woes when she does not seem interested or willing to do anything about changing her situation.


Ruth Dexter


Walnut Creek







April 19, 2007 Column—In response to letter to the editor




Contra Costa Times


RENEE BOWEN: ON THE STREETS
Assumptions about homeless are often ugly and ignorant
Contra Costa Times
Article Launched: 04/19/2007 03:10:35 AM PDT

ASSUMPTIONS --WE ALL make them, though we're usually not aware we are doing so. But the problem is they are what one assumes without any evidence of truth.

People tend to make an exceptional amount of false assumptions about those of us without a physical address; subjecting us to a fate far worse than the streets themselves. People are under the assumption that those of us out here (on the streets) are not interested or willing to change or better our circumstances -- assuming we can readily walk into any place of business, fill out the application and get a job!

Every employer I've come across requires a little annoying thing on the application called a verifiable physical address, which when you are living on the streets is not something you have -- you cannot simply write H O M E L E S S, or No Residence in the place where the address is supposed to go.

And how are employers going to verify my physical address when I don't have one?

I've been to countless job interviews (well over 200) over the past 61/2 years and have gotten the same response, just worded a little differently:

"You don't have the exact qualifications we are looking for";

"We found someone else who more closely matches what we wanted";

"You're overqualified for the position and we don't feel you would be happy here and thus wouldn't stay";

"The position has been closed/filled."

Yet the sign continues to be posted while they wait for the right
look to come through the door.

The only things potential employers see as I walk through the door is the way my body moves, or doesn't move as the case may be and . . . my bags. And since I have no place to safely leave my bags, I have to carry them with me all the time. Employers view me as a liability, nothing more. My last job was with Kaiser, doing their payroll. I was hired as a "short-hour" employee, working two to three days every other week, four to six days per month. Thus, I had no benefits. I had to lie on the application in order to be considered for employment, telling them I stayed with friends.

The position allowed me to eat, barely, but didn't afford me enough money to put a roof over my head.

While employed there, I put in for every position I could, quickly filling a box full of transfer applications, only two of which came back to me, telling me I was overqualified for the positions.

I worked for Kaiser for more than four years until January 2005, when Kaiser decided to do away with the payroll department and eliminate all the positions, sending everything to India, leaving a lot of displaced employees in the wake, myself included.

I've been left to my own devices since; receiving a lot of criticism about why I'm not employed, why I seem so unwilling and uninterested in changing or improving my circumstances. Nothing could be further from the truth. I have been trying, in vain, to change and improve my circumstances from the moment I was put out here. People claim they are tired of reading about my "woes." Well, I'm tired of living, breathing and being on the streets.

I've never been one to hold my hand out waiting for castoffs and handouts at every turn. People are real quick to make harsh judgments and false assumptions on something they know nothing about and understand even less. I'm tired of people questioning my very presence.

But I find myself always having to defend my life because people choose to believe, see and hear only what fits into their comfort zones and my being on the streets knocks hard on that comfort zone door.

They retaliate through harsh judgments, false assumptions, rude comments and ignorant attitudes. Having my circumstances posted in the paper every month makes the situation more challenging to find work, putting me and my resident status under a very fine microscope.

My intention to write about my circumstances when I was approached to do so was to open some eyes, not bring more condemnation toward me.

Perhaps this is why I get more ugliness directed toward me.

Too many eyes are beginning to open and they are not comfortable seeing what is right before them. It's always been there, but they choose not to see it until someone points it out to them and they can no longer ignore it.

Renee Bowen has been homeless since Sept. 1, 2000. She writes a monthly column on the homeless in Walnut Creek.











May Column, Printed 5/10/07, after editor said it wasn’t what he wanted. Printed it anyway. Had sent re-write, and he informed me this previous one had been printed the week before. 9th one printed, 8th one written for the column.




RENEE BOWEN: ON THE STREETS
Struggling to find the motivation on the streets
Contra Costa Times
Article Launched: 05/10/2007 03:09:22 AM PDT

IT'S HARD TO remember why I bother to keep going, while forcing myself to remember to breathe. I often wonder what it is that keeps me pushing, fighting, moving forward and holding on (to what . . .)?

I have asked myself this question time and again, a million times over, yet I only come away with more questions, no answers in sight.

After a while you tend to fade further into the background and people no longer really notice you, you become part of the scenery -- perhaps this is why I notice my scenery and feel more connected to this than people as they pass by without seeing anything and wouldn't be able to describe anything or anyone they pass along the way.

So I take a deep breath, as deep as my lungs will allow, slowly release it and press forward, but to what end? Where does life go when you have no place to go?

When do you become invisible and become an object rather than a living, breathing, feeling being? Sometimes it's hard to remember you have a heart beating within your chest.

You wonder how this can be when so much of you has already shut down?

They say there is a "purpose" for everything, a reason for all that happens, that there are no accidents, no random acts of violence, nothing "random" at all. I don't know that I agree with this, not wholeheartedly, anyway. I've been through an ever-increasing Hell with each moment I press forward.

A lot of people claim I'm out here "by personal choice," because after all, they insist, there is so much help available for those who need it. This must be why I still find myself on the endless streets because of all this so-called "help," which I have not found to be true in any regard.

Is it fair to ask how many of you have been forced to live on the streets, going days sometimes longer with no food in sight?

Do you know what it's like to be condemned for being put in a circumstance in which you had no control?

How many of you have had to experience waking up to insects covering you from head to toe -- sucking greedily, biting furiously and stinging, as they leave their marks all over your body as you become an endless meal to them?

How many times have you had to bounce around to numerous restrooms to do your clean up throughout the day, having to do everything in bits and pieces, never able to complete it all at a single location?

How many of you have had to endure the harshest extremes of weather time and again and then be refused every type of assistance then told you're out here by "choice?"

How many of you have your integrity questioned every moment just because you don't have the luxury of that precious physical residence with a solid, safe roof over your head? How many of you are treated with such horrible contempt for being forced into a circumstance not of your choosing but you have to endure?

To know what it's like to be endlessly harassed and accosted for just being present? How many of you would be able to endure a single night -- much less, year after year? How many of you would have the strength to face another day?

So what keeps me going? I don't know. What keeps anyone going or prevents them from going? Only a sense of self. Some allow others to dictate to them how and what to feel -- giving up their power, their strength, essentially their self.

Many believe their lives have no meaning because nothing comes from within. They wait for the outside to fill that empty space they have hallowed out on the inside. They don't understand the emptiness can only be filled from what they have given to others, relying on others to make them complete. The void, the chasm within only widens by looking to the outside for fulfillment.

Renee Bowen has been homeless since Sept. 1, 2000. She writes a monthly column on the homeless in Walnut Creek.






RENEE BOWEN: ON THE STREETS
Discrimination always prevalent on the streets
Contra Costa Times
Article Launched: 07/12/2007 03:08:21 AM PDT

DISCRIMINATION. AT SOME point it's something each of us will experience in our lifetime, though some experience this on such a regular basis it becomes commonplace.
You don't have to be of a certain race or nationality to be discriminated against and know what it's like to experience it. There is no shortage of discrimination cast your way when you're on the streets.
Every day of my life, I have to experience people's ignorance coming through loud and clear, and one of the brightest colors they show is through their discrimination. Sometimes it's openly displayed, other times they try covering it with words. But words, like anything, can be used as weapons to destroy or be used as a salve and heal wounds. The words directed toward me, for the most part, have the sharpest swords attached to them.
The ugly colors unfold with every step I take, the way my body moves or doesn't move, as the case may be. Every place of employment makes excuses for not hiring me because they are not comfortable with me, so they have already written me off before even speaking to me, ignoring the skills and abilities I can bring to their organization.
They tell me I'm overqualified for the position or I don't have the exact qualifications they are looking for. They'll say another candidate was hired for the position who better matched what they wanted, though they're "impressed" with my qualifications. They chose someone else who "fit" better with the company.
Because of the way they word their discrimination, I cannot do anything about it. Discrimination doesn't take sides or happen to those of only a particular race. It comes in every shape, every color, every race and becomes abundantly apparent to those with mental or physical limitations.
Another holiday spent on the streets, and I'm quite literally stranded, since County Connection does not offer holiday service for their buses. It makes it more of a challenge to enjoy the day because I can't get anywhere unless I walk for miles, and I don't have the opportunity to watch or participate in any of the events or the fireworks displays later.
As the weather warms up, finding drinkable water becomes an even greater challenge. I have to use the fountains outside, and the only place left to fill up on water is the parks faucets, if they are working. The water feels like boiled water -- it hurts my hands to hold the bottle while I fill it, then I find I cannot drink the water because it's too hot.
If I go into places such as Target and ask for a cup of ice, they capitalize on my misfortune, charging upward of a $1.69 plus tax for this luxury when they think I'm on the streets. Yet anyone shopping in the store who stops by for a cup of ice is handed one at no charge. Being on the street, you generally don't have the means to make the purchase of what is given free to others. Discrimination rears its ugly head again.
Renee Bowen has been homeless since Sept. 1, 2000. She writes a monthly column about the homeless in Walnut Creek.








Nov. 07 Column, printed 11/22/07 – Thanksgiving. No Byline online.

Link:

   Email  
Police only contribute to problem of homelessness
Contra Costa Times
Article Launched: 11/23/2007 02:59:48 AM PST


MOVING: THAT'S WHAT you find yourself doing, sometimes several times a night, thanks to the endless array of cops forcing you to move, claiming you are "trespassing and loitering."
They will cite you for just being present, insisting they have "city ordinances" that prohibit people from sleeping on the streets. And those rare few who have the privilege and luxury of a vehicle are told that "city ordinances" prohibit anyone from sleeping in their vehicles -- making it a punishable crime to be homeless and forced to live on the streets. And thus commences a journey into the never-ending harassment with which cops have become so proficient.
Making matters worse are the people who are locked safely and securely inside their warm houses who call police to have us removed from their sight, telling police our presence disturbs them and they feel so very threatened about our trying to get even the slightest bit of rest.
Yeah, a physically challenged, homeless female is such a menacing threat we have to have her removed by whatever means necessary, out of our awareness.
My experience on the streets has not been a good one and I know it's made much more challenging because I don't fit the mold. My experience out here has been much harsher than most because I don't receive assistance to support a habit such as drug or alcohol addiction. I'm too clean and presentable, which really seems to bother people. I'm direct and straightforward in my responses. I flunked lying in school, never could get the swing of it. I receive nothing from the state at all, although I have been fighting tooth and nail since Day 1 for assistance, and it seems pounding my head into a brick wall would be more effective and productive.
Harassment: I've never found this in job descriptions for police or sheriff's deputies, not printed anywhere, but it must be in the "unspoken rules," just like the quotas they need to get before the end of the week -- or month or year -- is up. That's not in their job descriptions either, but that's what they do: harass those of us in unfortunate circumstances, which many of us were forced into.
Apparently, the job descriptions have changed. No longer are police out here to ''protect and serve," unless constant harassment and ignorance count as protecting and serving the community. Police I encounter are always demanding my respect. Well, respect is something that is earned, not given on command. Respect through intimidation only breeds contempt. Not a day or night in the more than seven years I've been out here have gone by that I haven't been harassed at least twice within a 24-hour period. Not a single day. I might be able to understand it if I were making trouble, but I have never done anything or hurt anyone. Yet I'm targeted by the cops and the sheriff. No matter where I go or what city I am in, police and sheriff's deputies are right there, demanding an explanation of my presence.
This is not something I understand. I go out of my way to be clean and presentable, but get nothing but the worst end of it from the police. Why can't they just leave me alone? I can no longer stand the sight of cops. I used to really believe they were out here to help but that is not the case, I'm finding. They've become a much bigger part of the problem. Not once since I have been out here have they helped me in any way. Whenever I have had to make reports it has been brushed off with the remark, "What do you expect putting yourself out here?" Then the reports are shredded and ripped apart, and I'm sent on my way. Making me wonder why bother to report anything because it turns into nothing more than a waste of my time.
Renee Bowen has been homeless since Sept. 1, 2000. She writes a monthly column on the homeless in Walnut Creek. You may e-mail her at rrb7514@hotmail.com.







Dec. 07 Column-- Printed 12/27/07, posted online 12/28/07-- Online version chopped a lot. Not what was sent by Leanne--



RENEE BOWEN: ON THE STREETS
Season's message of love should resonate year-round
Contra Costa Times
Article Launched: 12/27/2007 02:57:38 AM PST


FIRST, DO NO harm. It should be the most obvious of all things, yet it's the one thing we do repeatedly to ourselves and everyone else. And the ones who are so dear to us are generally the ones we harm the most.
Words, accusations, lies, manipulations cause us to react, retaliate and respond with more of the same. More often than not, it ruins the best of relationships with all those around us and closest to us.
It seems the people who preach the most about forgiveness rarely practice it in their own lives. Closing their hearts to the truth, they block out receiving love and kindness. You cannot filter your life on only what you will accept. If you block part of it, you block the whole; building a wall between everyone because they don't respond by posted script to your expectations.
People often respond with emotion and feelings they are not fully aware of when they direct them at you. Their response doesn't fit the current situation, and they generally don't realize what it is they are feeling or the emotions that are underlying from long ago.
The raw intensity of pain has made my whole body ache in response from the loss of those dear to me.
My word is all I have, and when anyone chooses to try to discredit me, it's devastating.
Friendship: When you're lucky enough to be blessed with that precious gem in your life, everything in your life brightens and your heart smiles with incredible joy. But when that beautiful relationship is taken away from you, the joy that brought such warmth and beauty to your heart and into your life disappears.
When you are not allowed to be who you are or are criticized, it causes harm on every level and the deepest blow is to your self, where the most precious pieces of your heart are. It's more convenient to ignore what we do to others through our actions, behaviors and responses by not seeing the harm being done. We respond through hurt and pain, instead of through love and kindness.
Can you imagine what our world would be like if all of us responded in and through L O V E? I think that is what scares people about peace. They would actually have to take part in and be responsible for choosing love.
But the knee-jerk response is always to respond more like what is directed to us and at us.
Forgiveness: Something that has been all but eliminated from our vocabulary. I continue to push forward, doing my best to transcend all the negative energy and smile, living as best I can, no matter what my circumstance.
But it seems no matter how I live, how I present myself, I'm criticized for just being who I am. I cannot be someone or something I'm not.
Responding through hurt, pain and the heavy baggage from the past is a vicious cycle that won't stop until we learn to respond in kind, with love in our hearts.
All other choices only bring more hurt and pain.
The echoes of friendship linger in our hearts for all eternity -- the imprint left behind is the treasure that binds the soul with joy and happiness.
I start my day being thankful I'm still breathing and able to wake to another morning. True acceptance is something I've only experienced through nature's wonderful furry and feathered friends that share my nights. The spirit of God so close at hand, offering safety, warmth and protection in the curled embrace of her beautiful creatures -- my sounding boards, my companions, my warm angels of the night. Encircling me with love, acceptance and as one of their own. The soft fur of the raccoons as they press in close to help me stay warm. Their paws are like handprints on my soul.
Renee Bowen has been homeless since Sept. 1, 2000. She writes a monthly column on the homeless in Walnut Creek. She may be reached at rrb7514@hotmail.com.









Monday, December 27, 2010

11 Holiday Seasons... and Counting

Holidays on the streets…Marking my 11th year anniversary and still out here

2010 Season--

Well, here we are --- another year has passed by and another holiday season is under way-- this making the 11th anniversary of being out here having to endure the holidays alone and on the streets still. And this year, probably more than the others has been weighing heavily on my heart and soul. I have been out here more than 10yrs now, a solid decade of living, breathing and being on the streets… the harsh toll it is taking and continues to take… just remembering to breathe and wondering why I bother. Just keeping myself going, to what end?? Been questioning life and what it is all about more and more. I never expected to be forced to stay outside for a single night, much less en entire lifetime and beyond. And those drivers that I thought so highly of have readily turned their backs on me and looking at me and treating me with such contempt now-- it makes me dread even having to catch the bus, and finding more and more I am staying away until I absolutely have to take it-- but the way it runs (or doesn’t run, now) makes it really challenging, if not completely impossible to get much of anywhere on it. And this is something that drags me down further, making me feel worse than I already do.

And the worst thing I have to contend with are the abundant assumptions and harsh words and criticism by all these County Connection drivers-- talking trash about me right in front of me… and spreading trash around. They are the ones who make being present something I am truly coming to dread. Not once have a single one of them come to me to understand or hear the truth. But they have no problems causing trouble for me… the devastation that leaves in its wake-- very disheartening. Keeping my distance from them more and more now-- and each year, leaves me more breathless.

The cherished animals that bring heart to my nights and embrace me with acceptance and so much love... not something I have ever truly experienced from the 2-legged human variety.  Another year come, and already gone.   And the streets prevail...   still holding me in its grip.   I often wonder, now, if this is the only life I will see to the end.   I have met and been embraced by a rare few remarkable individuals that have sprinkled bits and pieces of hope to my heart...   and I hold tight to those..   And that helps me face another day, and endless night once more... then begin again, with more of the same.   Still praying, meditating and trying to accept what is and letting go and letting God manage the details.   Breathing in the crisp night air, usually filled with rain, letting my heart fill with hope and love.






Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Closing of 2009


It's been quite a while since I have posted anything. Though I have been writing endlessly for what seems like forever-- so much on my heart, in my thoughts that writing has been my only outlet and the only one I could ever truly talk with, no judgments, false assumptions, harsh criticism and ridicule-- just open and accepting me for who I am. After more than 9 years, I still find myself on the cold hard streets and endless array of cold indifference thrown my way because my life doesn't fit the comfort zones of most people, so they take all that out on me and insist I have to be doing 'something' wrong, because they see all these drug addicts, junkies and alcoholics being paid every month to support their habits, habits I have never been inclined to even try, much less ruin my life with-- it wears on you, time and again being on the receiving end of all their crap. I'm the one forced to live out here. Never once has anyone stood in my shoes, much less walked any distance in them, but are real quick to judge what they do not understand. Making assumptions without the facts behind them. So I write, and I write and I write some more. The animals are what really keep me going, accepting me for who I am, as I am. Bring unconditional love to my life, not something most people are able to do. My experience with others, for the most part, has been by condition only-- we will love you if you act, talk and perform as we believe you should. So I find solace in Nature and her beautiful creatures. This is my 10th Holiday season on the streets, nowhere to go, and literally stuck wherever I find myself on Christmas Eve, until the following Monday, Dec. 28th-- no bus service on Holidays or weekends, which makes it even more of a challenge when you are forced to live on the streets.

I'm sitting in the library at the moment as I write this, my rare access I have online is through the library-- very restrictive and limiting, at best. But having it is better than not, I suppose.

This is the time of year to spend in the embrace of family and friends-- and here I am spending it alone on the streets, once more with no one to share it with. I have come to almost dread this time of year... being out in the elements, harsh, cold, and uninviting-- whatever happened to First DO NO Harm? When this is the first thing done when you are forced to live your life on the streets. Never thought I would have to endure a single moment on the streets, much less several years. And people insisting "I have to be out here by personal choice, because there is just sooooooo much help available". Yeah, right-- so much help as long as you fit into the narrow minded categories that the state and country impose on you -- drugs, alcohol, tobacco-- as long as you have an addiction, or use something in excess, they have plenty of so-called help. But when you do not fit the mold, you find quickly that help is nowhere to be found.

And being physically challenged only adds to the fun. I immerse myself in books, prayer, meditation and writing, and letting Nature fill my heart and soul with her songs filled with Hope and Love-- something the animals I am so very blessed to have in my life, share so openly with me.

2009 has been one of the worst years I have experienced in every regard, I'm looking forward to this year coming to an end and erasing it from my heart, mind and soul.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

When Hunger Strikes

When Hunger Strikes


You learn a lot about living, more about dying, and what truly matters when you live on the streets. One of the first things you become intimately acquainted with is the true meaning of hunger from the inside-out. Going days, sometimes longer with nothing to quell that empty gnawing that makes it feel like your body is being pulled apart at the seams, being detached from the very core itself. Eating becomes a rare and treasured gift, yet the moment you finally have something to eat, you find your body won’t allow it, after only a bite or two, you feel like you’re going to explode, you feel bloated and stuffed--

Food has become a precious luxury, a commodity to be bought and sold, not something seen as the essential and required need to sustain life-- a precious commodity not afforded to those who need it, but an essential ‘luxury’ we’re readily deprived of—

The horrible way in which the system treats you when you are physically challenged, homeless, female and have no viable income-- You are completely and readily denied all access to food, shelter and clothing-- the very essential, basic needs required to live, yet is taken from you when you are not able bodied and able to do the State’s ‘required’ work program in a place of their choosing, entailing manual labor in loading and unloading trucks, as well as the work performed in their recycling centers. Telling you "We can’t just give you food; you have to work for it." 


Penalized for NOT having a roof over your head and having to live on the streets; the sentencing is the revocation of food and shelter because you are not able to purchase them. You are denied even the most dismal portions of food. But I refuse to compromise my health further by digging through the trash bins in order to get a few crumbs, picking up more than just food. I sometimes feel like not bothering to try to find food anymore, just let my body eat itself from the inside out, and then I’ll finally have a solid and permanent roof over my head.

When you are not a substance abuser, drug addict, alcoholic or smoker, or chemically dependent, you don’t fit into the narrow parameters set forth by the state to receive their so-called ‘assistance’. When you are clean, there is no assistance forth coming, there is nothing available. Your sentence becomes much harsher, while your life is brushed further under the rug. The state removes all access to food, denying your existence. Food is treated and viewed as special privileges, a luxury not given to those who need it, but readily distributed to those who don’t.

The brief moments I was “given” any kind of food by the State, were yanked out from me faster than a rug – because I am not physically able to do their required monthly work program, they have continuously denied me any and all access to food. And those very brief moments of being afforded ‘food’, I was never allowed to have real food, could not have hot foods, or prepared foods-- the only items allowed were junk foods-- not something I partake in. Being a vegetarian makes it much more challenging when you have to live on the streets. None of the places offering ‘food’ that they deem as meals are vegetarian friendly. So I rely on the fruit trees all around, my staple diet a few days per week.

Because I still have my teeth, and my skin isn’t sagging off my body, my face isn’t hallowed out—People tell me ‘You look healthy, you look fine’-- they insist I must be eating well because of my outward presentation and appearance-- they don’t see the damage being done from having little to no means to afford the luxuriant privilege of that precious resource you are no longer afforded when you are put on the streets, it is not readily noticeable from the outside. My gums have begun to recede for not getting the proper nutrition, my insides start feeling like a sharp scrapping knife is being run up and down from just behind my sternum to my mid-section.

My appearance is such BECAUSE I have never been a substance abuser-- and I have never used anything. So I may appear healthy, until you take a deeper look. Not something most people are comfortable doing. So they look at me without actually looking. So I drink a lot of water. I block out food as much as possible and forget about it. Your body becomes accustomed to not eating. Because I respect myself and others too much, I don’t look or smell like the insides of a trash can. This continues to pose problems in seeking assistance. Because I don’t look the part, smell the part or present myself as a walking trash bin, or engage in substance abuse, I’m readily denied any type of assistance. You’re left with the empty gnawing inside when Hunger Strikes.

The incredible bus drivers I’m blessed with taking bring more heart and humanity into my life at the deepest level, letting me know my presence DOES matter and some people DO care, keeps me going. Something I’m truly grateful for.




By Renee Bowen

Homeless Since Sept. 1, 2000
© All Rights Reserved 2006

In Hunger's Wake

~ In Hunger’s Wake~
Falling Upwards, Part 2;
A Life From The Streets



The high price we’re forced to pay for those of us without the luxury and privilege of being surrounded by those four precious walls and a solid roof over our heads, aside from being accosted, is the ever-present gnawing hunger eating away at us from the inside-out.

Some trying to fill the endless void through alcohol and drugs, but merely cover the pain and the pangs of a stomach sitting empty too long, for only the briefest of time, so more is consumed, and the cycle begins…

We’re denied access to food because we don’t have the high paying jobs required in order to be ‘allowed’ to eat. We’re told we cannot eat unless we’re “working for it, we can’t just give you food”. Your life and livelihood are completely discarded when you’re homeless, quite literally and physically on the cold hard streets, disabled and have no means to put a roof over your head, much less the means to purchase that very essential ingredient called food.

The very rights we’re supposed to be guaranteed are taken away because we don’t have the means to ‘purchase’ them. The right to food, clothing and shelter are viewed and treated as ‘special privileges’, not as our basic, essential rights required to live! The state insists on denying food to those of us that don’t have the means to get the food elsewhere. The ones who make and earn the big bucks are the ones given, fully and completely, the benefits and services on silver-platters, along with all the trimmings—

The more in need an individual is, the less they will receive of even the bare necessities (of life), like food and water! Then they wonder ‘why’ so many on the streets are in such poor health-- Those of us still above ground, that is.

They have no problem giving food to those that don’t need it, but readily refuse to give it to those who do. That’s probably WHY so many turn to the drugs and alcohol; trying to block-out that ever-present empty gnawing eating you from the inside. Compromising our health, jeopardizing our lives. Having to watch as everyone eats all around you. The cruel irony unfolding before you…

When you’re forced out on the streets, society turns a cold shoulder and deaf ears to those of us in need. Eye contact is always averted as we become invisible to their warmth and humanity, then transformed in their eyes to the trash and debris so easily discarded and left by the wayside.

Having no viable income, or roof over our heads, we’re not given the ‘privilege’ of being allowed to live and breathe as human beings, much less allowed ‘to be present in society’.

We’re denied the key elemental ingredients of life~ Not offered or given food, health care, the warm embrace of love; but instead we’re given intolerable, hostile attitudes, ugly talk, violent and rude behaviors, desolation~ Yet, we’re supposed ‘to get used to it, since this is what “we deserve”’.

Being so openly exposed to all the elements, the illnesses people pass to us from their colds, flues and other viruses-- Compromising our health even further. But that’s right, our health doesn’t count, our lives don’t matter—

Why is it when that roof and those walls are taken from your life, your life is suddenly taken from you and your presence is no longer welcomed? (in society???) We are still the SAME people, still the SAME person; it’s only our living arrangements and circumstance that have changed. But the moment that roof is taken away we’re treated so horribly and shown nothing but contempt-- WHY?????

What have we done to elicit such treatment, such responses? Why do people stereo-type us so severely, when they don’t even want to bother to find out why we’re there? But then, that would mean that they would have to get close enough to us to ask, to actually ‘talk’ with us, and since we’re considered so very contagious from this nasty, infectious d-i-s-e-a-s-e we somehow acquired the moment we were put on the streets, people are too afraid they’ll ‘catch it’, so they don’t come close enough to find out, unless it’s to show their true colors, which is not a pretty site to behold.

Paying the price of what others do TO you. Your life is ripped apart as you become everyone’s target-- Your information and, ultimately, your life, taken by force, stolen from your person, then used against you and YOU’RE the one charged and held responsible for their actions. Your life dismissed as inconsequential, so people can do whatever they choose knowing they will walk away Scott-free and not be charged in any way, shape or form to take and destroy someone else’s life-- Using our information, our lives as their own.

Cops are more than reluctant to make out any reports when you are not seen as real, much less of importance. They don’t want to ‘waste their time on those that aren’t “Solid Upstanding Citizens” in their eyes’. And those of us on the streets aren’t seen as citizens, but rather the lowest form cast (out) from society, from life…

When you no longer have a solid roof over your head, your rights are no longer afforded to you, much less even acknowledged, in any capacity.

These so-called programs in place are NOT geared toward actually helping those in need, but rather used as a sort of punishment for NOT being gainfully employed and contributing to society in a positive and effective manner. The less you have, the more you are penalized for it!

Most of us on the streets are NOT out here by choice, we didn’t ‘CHOOSE’ to be homeless, have our homes taken from us. But, unfortunately, it’s where the majority of us are forced to stay-- The longer you’re out here, the less likely you will ever see a roof over your head again, much less having the safety and security it affords you. You are on constant vigil, 24/7, never knowing if and when you can safely close your eyes to get even a little rest-- Will you still be alive to re-open them?

Being surrounded by nature’s beauty and man’s fury, a volatile and harsh combination. Animals have become my solace, my confidants, my companions-- They surround me, alert me, keep me warm on the coldest nights, give me a reason to face another day, another night! They lift my spirits and share my pain. They make life bearable in an unbearably cruel world—

They are my shadows and closest friends. They are the ONE good thing that has come from being put out on the streets! I’ve also had the opportunity of meeting some truly incredible people that I might not have been fortunate enough to encounter otherwise; both on the streets as well as those rare few who are not that have brought the warmth of humanity, however briefly, back into my life, along with an added glimpse of HOPE~

Life is a continual flux of catch-22’s. You cannot get a job without having a roof over your head; you cannot get a roof over your head without a job. No one will hire those who need the jobs in order to better our circumstances, better our lives because of their prejudices and skewed mis-conceptions toward those of us on the streets-- They don’t want their ‘businesses to become tainted and soiled by our presence’, and thus run their customers off.

Food has become a precious luxury, a commodity to be bought and sold, not something seen as the essential and required need to sustain life. And for that life-sustaining resource called water, we’re left to our own devices. Forced to drink the metallic, rusty and sulfuric/chlorinated crap they actually refer to as water from the dismal drinking fountains that the birds use for their discretions. This ‘water’ doing more harm than good to our health, with the several thousand chemicals dumped into it everyday, claiming ‘they are treating the water’, when they are the ones the water needs protection from. They are the ones polluting the water with their very ‘treatments’.

Food-- That precious commodity not afforded to those who need it, but an essential ‘luxury’ we’re readily deprived of—

When Hunger Strikes…..



By Renee Bowen
Homeless Since Sept. 1, 2000
© All Rights Reserved 2006

Falling Upwards

Falling Upwards:
My journey up from the Streets
Feeding yourself from the inside-out first,
Moving up from the Depths of Despair!
A life from the streets;



Learning to stay above ground when the only other option is to be 6 feet under.


One of the most difficult tasks I have to face each and every moment is to remember to breathe each morning, and every moment throughout the day and night. The pain of just being in the present moment, the dawning of reality as it presses into my consciousness, like a whirlpool slowly being sucked down into the depths beyond the drain…..

The endless nights of being constantly harassed by the cops just because I don’t have the luxury of having a solid roof over my head. My integrity is always questioned for this very reason. Anything that needs to be reported in any sense, when something happens, is completely brushed aside, nothing said is taken seriously, no matter who stands behind everything you say. You are booted out of the room so they can question your integrity, then dismiss the reports just the same, after all, everyone on the streets asked to be out here, to have their home and sense of security taken from them so they could spend hellish nights being accosted by 2 legged animals of the human variety, as well as the assorted insects that invade your body, as you become their meals, leaving their marks.

People have this notion that if you are on the streets, then you are no longer human, no longer have the capacity to speak honestly, since everyone ‘out here’ is considered CAzY, and out of their minds, only talking gibberish and we are begging for something to happen to us. Just the fact of being on the streets, your discounted as being a human being, where you no longer have any rights, all your civil liberties are taken away, your privacy is a thing of the past of even the most intimate things you have to do, your life and all the details are now fully on the screen for the public to view so they can humiliate and de-humanize you in their lowest form.

Seen as ‘Society’s Disease’ that people believe they will catch if they show their humanity or treat you as a person. Because if they do, that means the same thing could happen to them, and that is just too close to home, so they go out of their ways to distance themselves as much as possible from those of us that don’t have the privilege of having a roof over our heads. People go out of their way to make your life even less tolerable through their ugliness, which comes fully out—truly showing their true colors. Not being treated as a person, much less, someone who actually breathes. People bring forth their ugly talk and violent actions, saving it all up just so they can explode at you. They are more than rude. They make it their life’s ambition to dehumanize and demoralize and degrade you in every unimaginable way.

Treating you like you came from the gutter debris, kicking you to the side, pushing you down, spitting all over you, being extremely graphic and nasty, taking by force anything they possibly can, even more so when it is on your person, and no one does a damned thing! Not a thing. The response, if any, is always ‘””” what do you expect putting yourself out here ’”””, like this is truly a choice I made, much less happily made. People are at their absolute worst toward you when you don’t have that precious luxury of being surrounded by four walls and a solid roof.

Yet, they treat you like a contagious disease that they are certain to ‘catch’ should they be the least bit human toward you. Because if they did that, that would mean the same thing could happen to them. And that is just too much for so many to deal with, facing their own mortality. We are seen as beneath them, not worthy of their precious time. So they are their meanest, and most violent toward those of us on the streets to protect themselves. They believe if they are so horrible to us, then that makes them much better protected from ever catching this ‘disease’ they are so afraid of. People are afraid of what they don’t know and what they don’t understand, but are real quick to make judgments and assessments about someone they see that doesn’t fit into their narrow-minded world. Why do we scare people so much? Why are they so afraid of those who have nothing, but our integrity & Self, which is stripped down to the barest threads and even then they want to eliminate those threads from our life, which they see as nothing more than worthless.

And it seems the longer you are out here, the more violent and aggressive people are toward you. Then I have to wonder ‘why’ I have to remember to breathe, remind myself throughout the day to breathe, what is so automatic to most, is a daily challenge for me. Breathing has never been natural for me. And something I have almost come to regret these past nearly 5 years that I have been on the streets.

Because I choose to respect myself, I have NOT received ANY kind of assistance since being put out here. I’m told ‘I just don’t fit the part, I don’t smell the part; look the part in any way, so I couldn’t possibly be “homeless”’. I have even been told that I was the W R O N G color to be homeless. I have had nothing but doors repeatedly slammed shut in my face because I go out of my way to be presentable, no matter how long it may take just to get cleaned up for the day, which at times, has been all day just trying to find some place(s) I can use. A lot of times you have to divide your cleanup into a full-out event. Find one place to brush your teeth, another to wash your face and body (usually separately), another to change, and yet another to brush and wash your hair. Who would have thought that going out of your way to be clean and presentable would work against you???

But I refuse to compromise myself any further than I have already been forced to do. I won’t lower my Self to the gutter to receive only the most dismal of assistance, nor will I allow my life to be ripped apart and torn to shreds again just to be able to eat, the rarest commodity. My life is NOT an open display for all to dissect and dispose of!

People believe anyone on the streets are put their specifically for their enjoyment to do whatever they choose to do to us, because it’s their ‘given right’ and duty—then they can rid society of this nasty ‘infectious disease’ and gloat about their accomplishment for the good of humanity.


By Renee Bowen
Homeless Since Sept. 1st, 2000
© 2005 All Rights Reserved