A love that erases all the lines...

Artwork by Michael Williams @kcmidtownartist

When you saw the photo, did your brain make up a story? My brain used to do that, and still does occasionally about many things not only the homeless. One of the most important lessons I have learned is how dangerous it can be to my relationships to make up stories in my mind about anything...what someone is thinking, feeling...and why someone is in the situation they are in or how easy it would be to get out of it.

I have come to realize that human brains make up such stories because they are trying to protect us from any perceived pain. When we see a homeless person, our brains can immediately create a story that they deserve to be where they are because they are lazy, make poor decisions, do something "wrong," or even that they are dangerous, so we can feel justified in keeping our distance. Our brains know that if we acknowledge there is a human being, just like us, who needs help, we might be compelled to "feel" for them and their situation and that could create feelings of sadness or helplessness knowing we cannot immediately fix their situation. Avoidance becomes the "safe" way our brains tell us to process what we are seeing instead of considering that there is a suffering human within sight who oftentimes has been unloved, physically or sexually abused, emotionally traumatized, or hurt in any way that has created a reality where being on the streets is the only option they believe they have or are worthy of. So, we simply look away to avoid having to feel our feelings. It is easier not to question why we think what we think and to look at them harshly through our brains, instead of with compassion through our hearts, but it is also much less human. 

Another example of how our scared brains can create a story is in the excerpt below from my memoir, Brave Enough To Be Bliss, where I write about an experience in college. 

In the winter of my freshman year, I volunteered for an overnight shift at the homeless shelter. I remember being unsure where to enter the facility and almost talked myself out of going in, but since I had said I would be there, I knew I had to go through with it. Things like that, not knowing where I was going or who would be there or what I would do exactly, felt overwhelming. I just felt so scared to go in and face the unknown. But I disliked letting people down more than anything, so I forced myself to go in and face whatever was there.

I remember being asked to sit behind a table where the homeless would check in. I was to make them feel comfortable and welcome and let them know they could get something to eat and then select a cot. I was also told there would be someone in the back if any fights broke out or I needed help. That made me a little nervous inside, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it, so I just hoped it would be OK. Someone else was supposed to volunteer with me, but that person didn’t show up, which I understood since I had wanted to back out too. So, all night I sat at that table and watched to make sure everything was OK. Most of the people, all men as I recall, just slept on the cots that were provided in this one large room, perhaps a gymnasium. The lights were all off except for one dim light behind me. In the middle of the night, I remember one gentleman came to the table and asked a question, but then just started talking to me about how he became homeless. I don’t recall all the details, but basically, he had been a professor at KU with a “normal” life until he lost his family. After that everything changed, and he lost the will to do anything at all. I have no idea how I responded or if I did. I just remember feeling so badly for him, seeing how much it still hurt him talking about it, and wishing there was something I could do to make it better. I never volunteered there again.

Within a short period of time, I decided social work wasn’t something I could do because I wouldn’t be able to go home and not think about the people I was trying to help. And knowing I couldn’t fix their issues, I decided to stick with pre-journalism as my major.

On Monday, I went to Sam's Club to buy a supply of fruit for the week and as I walked in, I noticed a homeless woman sitting outside about 30 feet from the entrance holding a sign asking for help. By the time I left the store I had unfortunately forgotten about her and went on about my morning errands. The next day I was in the same area and remembered her. I drove back by Sam's Club intending to make up for my lapse the day before, but she wasn't there. I needed to mail Father's Day cards, so I went to the post office just across the parking lot and to my surprise, as I walked to the entrance the same homeless lady was right there. I smiled at her as I walked by knowing that I would stop and talk with her as I left. As I waited in line to mail my cards and buy stamps, I also started thinking about what I might say to her. 

I've never been a particularly outgoing person with strangers; in fact, I have always felt quite intimidated socially. For work, I could force myself to do whatever I needed to do, but personally, not so much. Approaching any stranger, including a homeless person, is still uncomfortable for me, and yet, I feel compelled to do it because I can no longer avert my eyes to preserve my own comfort. Instead, I truly see them and because I see them as the human beings they are, I must acknowledge them. Perhaps it is because I don't see them so different from me anymore. I see them as simply...human, and that makes them more like me than different from me. I see the pain in their eyes that I used to see in my own. And now that I have felt my own pain and learned to have compassion for myself, I no longer need to fear seeing the pain in theirs and can show them the compassion they are also deserving of. 

We recently celebrated Memorial Day and Fourth of July is fast approaching, so I wanted to share another excerpt so you can take a moment and reflect on any stories you may make up about homeless veterans you may encounter as you shop for the upcoming holiday celebration. 

What do you call people who jump in between you and someone who is trying to kill you? 

Heroes.

What do you call people who willingly enter the military, risk their lives for your country and all of its citizens, see atrocities you can’t even imagine, and come home with PTSD, and the only way they know how to survive the memories are by drowning the pain of what they saw in alcohol or drugs?

Drunks or addicts.

In both cases, they risked their lives to save yours. The hero with PTSD needs help, but he is still a hero and should be treated as such. We owe him the respect heroes deserve, as well as our love, care and concern for his mental health condition that came as a result of his heroism.

Yes, he will need to learn to accept help, but treating him with a hero’s respect and love, care, and concern as a human being instead of disdain, has a much better chance of helping him feel worthy of living. And if he feels worthy of living, he might actually be encouraged to reach out for or receive help.

If you felt worthless, why would you do the hard work to save yourself? You can’t save yourself when you think you don’t mean anything, won’t amount to anything, and are somebody no one wants. An outcast, dirty and broken, unworthy of a life worth living. That is a devastating place to get out of that requires love, kindness, and compassion, not disgust, irritation and impatience.

Life…is…hard, loving someone in the military is hard, and serving in the military is hard, especially when a person’s physical or mental health, body parts or lives are at risk. It is tough stuff to give yourself, to risk your life, in service of others. 

The U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development’s January 2024 Point-in-Time (PIT) count estimated 32,882 veterans were experiencing homelessness on a single night. That means 32,882 men and women who voluntarily signed up to defend this country are now living on the streets. I don't know how that makes you feel, but personally, that statistic doesn't make me very proud to be an American. I believe we can do better for those who chose to do better for the rest of us.

Regardless of your feelings about the military or government, when we are more human, we are better able to see how fear drives our perspectives on many of the things we so adamantly support or oppose. And when we acknowledge that fear is the driver, we can settle our brains long enough to listen for understanding instead of simply reacting in fear.

It's easy to make up stories about veterans, homeless people...or anyone really. I catch myself making up stories in my mind quite frequently...but the good thing is, I catch myself now and change my thinking from judgement and fear to compassion and love for my fellow man. It's easy to judge; it's something else to see a piece of ourselves within other struggling human beings.

“Freedom is nothing but a chance to be better.” Albert Camus

I am so far from perfect, but I have tried to live my life differently since I took the time to question why and to learn why I think what I think, believe what I believe, and do what I do. I am grateful for the ability to self-reflect and recognize when I am being less than human to other humans. I have met some of the most wonderful human beings by being willing to see them as simply that...human beings. Imperfect, just like me. Unaware of everything they need to know, just like me. Flawed, just like me. Just trying to get through each day of this oftentimes hard life, just like I used to be. 

I love the song For The One by Brian and Jenn Johnson because as I listen, I am reminded of my own need for compassion, grace, and love. Remembering my imperfection, my basic need for love, forgiveness, and belonging, helps me to better love others. 

While I didn't know if she would be open to receiving it, there is nothing more I would have liked to have done than to hug the woman I encountered on Monday. Maybe one day I will be brave enough to ask her if I could hug her and if so, I will let you know how she responds. But for today, something I said that I don't even recall specifically at this point made her smile and even laugh a little. And I consider that worth much more than the few dollars I left her with. I hope the smile meant she felt seen and acknowledged...and maybe just a little more human than she does some other days. It's not much, but it was what I could do for her today. One day, I hope to do so much more for her and for all hurting people in this world. So maybe for today, you could notice when your brain makes up a story about another human being and ask yourself if you can really know that it's true. And if it isn't, consider moving away from "safe" judgement toward a radical love that erases all the lines.

#braveenoughtobebliss #gbreal #compassion #selfcompassion #love #hope #depression #ptsd #veterans #addiction #humanity #homelessness #respect #heroes 

If you want to learn more about how to show yourself and others more compassion, let's talk. Just schedule a free virtual or email appointment with me and share one thing about your life you'd like to improve, and I can share one thing you could do to help yourself move toward a more compassionate relationship with yourself and others. Schedule Free 30-Minute Virtual or Email Appointment