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Anima
484 Posts |
 Posted - Dec 13 2014 : 8:58:26 PM
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[Recounts where I am in karma and bhakti yoga in everyday life--too much to record!]
The Little Sandwich Miracle
I’ve been homeless and sleeping in churches for a month. I walked up to the homeless shelter at about 3:03pm for lunch. I had spent the previous forty five minutes talking with a dear AYP friend about the self, loneliness, human frailty, and opening love of the divine. We talked on the phone while I sat under a huge, gnarled tree on a hill in the park. The ground was nearly frozen, the trees were barren, and I was shivering and distraught when we spoke. After our first laugh, though, every trouble and folly seemed small and good.
Gordon, my other friend, is a shaman, ordained twice over, once in druidry, and once in non-denominational Christianity. He approached the shelter as I was approaching. I greeted him as I sometimes do, and he said that he would kidnap me after lunch. “Okay,” I said.
We entered the crowded cafeteria and he sat, since he walks with a cane, and I stood next to him, laying my briefcase on the floor. He suggested that we go elsewhere to eat with our government food stamps, which I thought was a great idea. We went to a local food cooperative and sat in the café, eating delicious food. I had a turkey sandwich with Dijon mustard and bought basil to eat and hopefully treat my athlete’s foot. I also had a brownie. 
"So where are we goin,” I asked him halfway through our meal. “St. Mary’s student parish,” he told me. I knew exactly where it was because I had walked by it a couple days ago. When I had seen the statue of St. Mary on the side of the building, looking to the heavens in unconditional gratitude and compassion, I was overwhelmed and sat on the bench next to her likeness for about twenty minutes. I wanted to attend the mass there, but it would have interfered with checking in for my mat on the floor, so I had moved on.
We walked briskly to the church for a meeting. I found out in situ that it was a conflict resolution training meeting for homelessness. "Sounds good," I thought to myself. Gordon insisted that since I was so "passive and cool in highly stressful situations," that I would fit right in. I told him at one point, off the cuff, that the world needs more social absurdity. He commented on the beautiful woman walking ahead of us, who turned to smile at him. I have to admit, he does have a certain charm.
The meeting was run by a volunteer woman who specializes in conflict resolution in Israel and who reportedly has faced down a tank on at least one occasion. Sherry was a short and full woman, vibrant, and perhaps in her late forties, with long, dark hair drawn back in a ponytail, a tattoo of a cross on her right wrist, and sharp, intelligent eyes. About twenty of us sat in a circle of chairs and, as I found out, were volunteering to staff a day shelter for homeless people in the area, which would be coordinated and run by the church and the city homeless shelter. The priest, whose hand I had shook while coming in, was named Father Dan, and he was clearly a shrewd and kind man, judging from his openness, observational acuity, and speech.
First, we went around and gave brief introductions about how we came there, and Sherry said the point was not to list our skills, but just to say something that presented our interests. I introduced myself by saying my name, adding, ”I’m very grateful for the opportunity to spare you all the long and detailed list of my accolades. As it so happens, I was partaking in an experimental approach to social absurdism this very afternoon, and suitably enough, Gordon approached me and said he was kidnapping me after lunch. Here I am.” I was nervous, but it seemed to go over well, because most people were laughing at that point, and I smiled airily. We role-played through various scenarios of what might present a challenge in volunteers and guests at the day shelter. We had a good time, and I think we all learned a lot from going over the scenarios and lending our support, experience, and insight to each other.
After saying some goodbyes, Gordon and I walked back through the streets together. He told me that Father Dan had asked him to find someone that would be willing to help the situation, and that was why he had brought me to the meeting. I told him I will be happy to help. He has complimented my kindness in the past and thought it would be great to bring me since I am hard up for work and need to engage in helping people.
After the routine of blowing in a breathalyzer to prove I was sober upstairs, I ran into Gordon in the stairwell. He told me in passing, “I double dog dare you to go ask the woman at the desk, Sarah, about pies.” Sarah makes legendary apple pies. I told Gordon that I would certainly talk to her about pie. I said, Sarah,… and we said in unison, “the pie lady.”
I lined up to approach the front desk. A man asked me how he could help me. I said, “I’m looking for Sarah, the pie lady. Is she here?” I could see that she was sitting right in front of me on the other side of the desk. She said, “That’s me.” She was very nice, and we spoke briefly. Sarah had blonde hair, a thin, straight nose, pale skin, and a bandanna over her head. I asked her about getting some pie. “Do you have any?” I asked. She said she could not bring any due to regulations, but that she would be opening a café, which would be run according to community donations. I related that someone had done something in India, donating a refrigerator to a street corner, and all the able householders donated healthy food to it, and the poor kids could eat when they needed to. The man related that he had read of that, too. I asked Sarah if she would invite me to her café when it opened, and she said she would. I smiled, thanked her, and walked out the doors.
I went outside to line up in the cold and wait for the vans that take us to a church we sleep in. There were several men ahead of me, closer to the parking lot. Only twenty five men are allowed to sleep in the “church rotation” program, which is run according to rules that are much stricter than the ones at the larger shelter. No drinking or intoxication is allowed, and we may not swear while in the churches. Our group has had some turbulence, but has thinned out to a smaller band of men who want to see things work and get better. I put on my headphones and listened to Sanskrit chants, “Ya Devi Sarva Bhuteshu…,” which a dear AYP friend recently sent my way. I closed my eyes, and my feet began to dance a little on the dirty pavement.
I opened my eyes to see a man in a dark jacket about to walk by on my left. He was carrying a tray of about twenty five sandwich samples from a nearby restaurant franchise store (they send out trays to local business to encourage sales). I spoke to him without being able to hear my own voice. I smiled, saying, “How you doing.” I quickly displaced the earpieces on my earphones. I looked at the tray and told him, “That looks pretty heavy. I can take it off your hands for you.” He smiled and handed me the tray. There I was for a couple seconds, holding the tray in my hand like a waiter, grinning and overjoyed, and it felt perfectly natural. My eyes were alight. The other men sort of looked at me for a bit, and then I started making light of it by saying that we needed to eat them. I asked a man to help me open the tray, saying, “Help me out here.” It was open, and I walked up and down the pavement, giving away the sandwiches to everyone I saw. Everyone was thankful, and some people took two. Gordon pointed me to one or two people as well. I went in the shelter lobby to spread the joy, giving some to whoever I could inside. There was one sandwich sample left. I turned while walking and came up to the front desk. The last sandwich was for Sarah the pie lady, who took her share and was happy.
Sarah the pie lady got a sandwich, a little miracle we gave away as fast as it came.
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Edited by - Anima on Dec 14 2014 2:12:28 PM |
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Anima
484 Posts |
Posted - Dec 14 2014 : 1:47:44 PM
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I attended St. Mary's mass this morning. Father Dan did a great job explaining a passage from Isaiah, and it was my first mass. There were beautiful stained glass icons of saints in the windows, including St. Augustine, Joan of Arc, Catherine, Agnes, and Stephen.
Here is a photo of the statue of Mary that caught my eye:
http://i.imgur.com/eCm7GIZ.jpg?2
She was lit up today, which was nice!
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Edited by - Anima on Dec 15 2014 9:56:15 PM |
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lalow33
USA
966 Posts |
Posted - Dec 15 2014 : 11:06:28 AM
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| What a beautiful picture! Thank you, Anima. |
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kumar ul islam
United Kingdom
791 Posts |
Posted - Dec 15 2014 : 5:55:01 PM
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| i feel so blessed with all i have thankyou |
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Anima
484 Posts |
Posted - Dec 15 2014 : 6:33:51 PM
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Anytime!  |
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Dec 16 2014 : 09:13:03 AM
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Fantastic. Spiritual journalism. Not just abstract thinking, but insight derived from very grounded experience in the trenches. Love it. Keep up the amazing reporting, bro!  |
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mr_anderson
USA
734 Posts |
Posted - Dec 16 2014 : 1:21:12 PM
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Beautiful picture! It was a pleasure to read what you wrote, Anima, you're a very a good writer and it was a touching story. Maybe you should turn your hand to writing in some professional form or other?
Best wishes,
josh
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Anima
484 Posts |
Posted - Dec 16 2014 : 3:05:58 PM
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Working on it, Josh... Thank you! Here's from today:
Window
In a warm house by a creek,
Full of strange travelers,
I wash dishes and clean,
Lost in my serving Him.
On a soft bed and blanket,
Two dogs lie at my feet.
The Lord has lain me to rest,
In loving stillness of sleep.
I am poor and have no home,
With no work and no children,
There is nothing to distract me
From singing His sweet praises.
He stirs my beating heart.
He turns me over supine.
His light is in the window,
Shining down, sublime.
Window:
http://i.imgur.com/EXC3moj.jpg?1
Dogs:
http://i.imgur.com/9DtBH4a.jpg?1
Creek:
http://i.imgur.com/Ugzx6Ag.jpg?1
Now two men are whining about everything and everyone in society except themselves! |
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jusmail
India
491 Posts |
Posted - Dec 17 2014 : 08:32:42 AM
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Nice poem.
Reminds me of Tagore's great poem: Silent steps.
HAVE YOU NOT heard his silent steps? He comes, comes, ever comes.
Every moment and every age, every day and every night he comes, comes, ever comes.
Many a song have I sung in many a mood of mind, but all their notes have always proclaimed,
'He comes, comes, ever comes.'
In the fragrant days of sunny April through the forest path he comes, comes, ever
comes.
In the rainy gloom of July nights on the thundering chariot of clouds he comes, comes,
ever comes.
In sorrow after sorrow it is his steps that press upon my heart, and it is the golden
touch of his feet that makes my joy to shine.
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lalow33
USA
966 Posts |
Posted - Dec 17 2014 : 10:10:02 AM
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quote:
Originally posted by jusmail
Nice poem.
Reminds me of Tagore's great poem: Silent steps.
HAVE YOU NOT heard his silent steps? He comes, comes, ever comes.
Every moment and every age, every day and every night he comes, comes, ever comes.
Many a song have I sung in many a mood of mind, but all their notes have always proclaimed,
'He comes, comes, ever comes.'
In the fragrant days of sunny April through the forest path he comes, comes, ever
comes.
In the rainy gloom of July nights on the thundering chariot of clouds he comes, comes,
ever comes.
In sorrow after sorrow it is his steps that press upon my heart, and it is the golden
touch of his feet that makes my joy to shine.
This is beautiful! |
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Anima
484 Posts |
Posted - Jan 12 2015 : 10:12:34 PM
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This morning, a woman stopped in her car and offered me a ride to the bus stop, which I accepted. I got to the stop and felt overwhelmed with love while listening to a Krishna chalisa. I wrote this poem, inspired by my reading of Jeremiah the previous night, a conversation about divine intoxication, and Krishna's easy victory over Bakasura, the demon of deception, who was a giant crane that towered over the land:
All my Bones Tremble
I’m a drunkard
who sings of feats.
I’m a beggar
who deigns to eat.
He’s a storm cloud
who reigns in blue.
He’s a rainbow
who lights our view.
One’s a demon
who stands on high.
One’s a cowherd
who fells him nigh.
Deception’s haze—
righteous blaze,
fearsome rays
burn Kamsa’s maze!
The monthly magazine I’ve been negotiating with for two months finally invited me to the office. I met the editor, who is a kind and gentle, older man, full of smiles. I shook his hand, and he had the secretary write me a check for my articles. They are publishing two of them: one on a culture blog, and the other in the monthly print edition. It’s my first paid, published piece of writing. So I’m officially a freelance contributor! And the magazine is a pretty good one, too, with good recognition, at least in my area of the state.
I was standing on the roadside in the snow, waiting for the bus. I had a mental image of myself squealing and dancing a jig with glee over my successful writing. Then I had a sudden sense that I was lacking equanimity and fell into inner silence. A truck went by that instant. It sloshed a huge wave of dirty, brown, salty-slopiddy, gloppidy-gloopy, splutter-splatter sludge across the entire front of my body, from head to toe. I stood there and could only think to offer a small "thank you." A minute later, I began wiping it all off.
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Dogboy
USA
2294 Posts |
Posted - Jan 13 2015 : 06:19:46 AM
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quote:
I was standing on the roadside in the snow, waiting for the bus. I had a mental image of myself squealing and dancing a jig with glee over my successful writing. Then I had a sudden sense that I was lacking equanimity and fell into inner silence. A truck went by that instant. It sloshed a huge wave of dirty, brown, salty-slopiddy, gloppidy-gloopy, splutter-splatter sludge across the entire front of my body, from head to toe. I stood there and could only think to offer a small "thank you." A minute later, I began wiping it all off.
...Bakasura at the wheel of that truck? Congrats on your payday and turning a slushy cheek. |
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BlueRaincoat
United Kingdom
1734 Posts |
Posted - Jan 13 2015 : 08:32:22 AM
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I'm so glad to hear your news Anima!
We should all be so blessed as to make a living doing something we love. |
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Charliedog
1625 Posts |
Posted - Jan 13 2015 : 09:25:49 AM
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Anima you deserve this, your writings are beautiful, inspiring and pure, congratulations! |
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Anima
484 Posts |
Posted - Jan 13 2015 : 7:54:14 PM
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Namaste
Thank you, Dogboy, BlueRaincoat, and Charliedog! Sir Slush-a-lot is very blessed by your company! 
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maheswari
Lebanon
2520 Posts |
Posted - Jan 14 2015 : 02:17:14 AM
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| excellent news |
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Radharani
USA
843 Posts |
Posted - Jan 14 2015 : 9:46:27 PM
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quote:
Originally posted by mr_anderson
Beautiful picture! It was a pleasure to read what you wrote, Anima, you're a very a good writer and it was a touching story. Maybe you should turn your hand to writing in some professional form or other?
Best wishes,
josh
I agree! Anima writes so beautifully. Glad he is finally being published!! |
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maheswari
Lebanon
2520 Posts |
Posted - Jan 15 2015 : 02:12:48 AM
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yes Anima you are an excellent writter |
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