Now It Is A Merry Christmas

I went downtown with my annual Christmas stocking to find a homeless woman to give it to. Finding the right person means being in the right place at the right time. I drove around the typical church door ways but did not see a homeless woman. There are lots of homeless men but not many women who brave the elements like that. I understand why they do not like shelters as I have tired of being regulated myself. Dignity and privacy are sometimes worth more than refuge from the rain. Anyway, I stopped at Safeway and nearly got shot. I cut in line accidentally. Actually, nobody had a gun but I did incur the wrath of a long line of angry people. I look privileged. I moved to a a shorter line.

I left and drove around some more. Beautiful city lights, interesting gas station attendant, I ran into a PSU building and felt lucky to be there although I resent the Borg, drove around Northwest Portland and mourned the loss of the parks to gentrification, revisited my old apartment building and pondered possibly moving back downtown, then back to Safeway. That was where I found her. Right where I began. A young woman in a wheelchair, swaddled in blankets, holding a puppy in her lap. She had tattoos on her face and many piercings that ordinarily would have made her look tough. But, her eyes were tired and reddened and she complained of infection in her foot. She said the antibiotics from the clinic were not enough. I silently cursed the nation's lack of sufficient health care and excused myself. I ran back to my car, the luxury sedan that is old and wearing out but I am so lucky to drive. I grabbed the Christmas stocking I had lovingly supplied with basic necessities, a few beauty items, and some soft purple socks tied with a ribbon and another bag with a bottle of water and some aspirin. I handed them to her and gave her a hug. I tucked some cash into her gloves and she seemed genuinely happy for a moment. I startled her friend who was standing there by giving him a hug, too. Now it was a Merry Christmas.

Like Falling Off A Horse

Anybody who ever said that getting back into life is like falling off a horse, you just get right back up on it, has never fallen off a horse before.  You don't not just get right back up.  You fear horses for awhile.  You fear losing your balance and falling for any reason anywhere.  Sometimes you don't ever get back up on any horse and no one can pay you or punish you enough into doing it.  And that rugged, stoic mentality is cruel when some people cannot get right back up on that horse, ever.  Just ask Christopher Reeve.  I would like to think that eventually this mean spirited mentality would evolve into a higher minded appreciation for the inelegant, unentertaining strength it took Christopher to ever even want to see a horse again after that tragic accident.  One minute your Superman, the next minute you're an entirely different kind of superman.  And I think of how much stronger his wife had to become to love him in the new way he had to live.  How I long for that.  Don't we all long for someone to love us when we are at our peak of greatness by the world's standards then somehow go on loving us when we are as weak and needy as we can be.  How we all want to believe that all of the different selves we contain can each be worthy of great love in their own way and how each way we live in this world in various contexts could be a giving of love we never would have known could be possible.  I'm not going to get on a horse.  I do enjoy the thrill of driving a fast car with the window rolled down, my hair in the breeze and the music up loud.  I've been in serious car accidents and yet I drive.  The alternative is to walk and I am in too much chronic pain to do that.  Or to take a bus and I have neurological disabilities and PTSD that preclude me from standing their as the bus rushes up that makes me fight too hard a blood curdling scream that might mess up my hair.  Seriously, life is supposed to be fun.  This old ideal of independence as the only valid way to live or strive for is outdated. We need a world that recognizes we are interdependent.  From there we could see that we need the people we normally subjugate and marginalize to do their part in making the largesse of our lives possible and they need us to reward them with a livable wage.  Compassion and patience for people who fall of of horses would take us a long way toward a humane way of interacting that could lead to peace.  The key ingredient is love.

Alex Ansary's Blog: What Happens Above Still Affects our Lives Below

Alex Ansary's Blog: What Happens Above Still Affects our Lives Below