What I've Been Given, I Give to You

2008 has been a tumultuous year for so many.  Loves lost, lives lost, jobs lost.  There is no gauge to meter the confusion.   But it is also the year of Hope.   Hope for a new Presidency. With this election, the country felt united again.  Hope that we will throw back the blinds and the sun will shine again. 

Of all things, 2009 seems to be the Year of Hope.

 Hunger. 

I saw Sandra panhandling outside the post office.  She's deteriorated even more.   I had Ingrid, a 9 year old with me.  I tried to explain.  You see, I used to live right around the corner from here.  I set up a tab at that diner over there.  They would feed Sandra whenever she came in and I'd pay her bill every Friday.  Then they told me that it had to stop.  She was getting crazier and not "good for business."

Ingrid asked what I do now for Sandra.  It was a sobering moment.  I own a home now; I don't rent an apartment.  Yet, when I was living in a small apartment and driving a used Corolla, I still found enough money to pay for Sandra's meals each week and to buy her some new shoes.

I both appreciated "that old me" and wondered if the more success we have, the harder it is to share any of it with anyone else.  Had I hardened now - where any contributions were made by credit card to a political fund, a charity, but not directly to a person?  Did I now see a "scam," something to distrust behind a person's eyes?

I told Ingrid that Sandra had a stomach wound from her husband who tried to kill her.  That violence sent her to the streets.  When I first met Sandra, she was full of energy, vigor and pride for leaving an unhealthy relationship.  But now, some 10 years later, she's been broken down by the streets.  One eye is half-closed, her hair matted.  She swore she was not on drugs, but I think that's a lie.  I gave Ingrid a twenty dollar bill to give to her.  Ingrid did.  Two days later at Target, Ingrid asked if we could buy her some new shoes. 
 
The hungry soul seeks its food.  For some, that's literal.  Rice.  Cheese.  A half-eaten sandwich.  For others, it's spiritual.  It's the safety and arms of another person who will let you be.  Yet for others, it's the taking, the breaking down of another.
 
In the spirit of hunger, I give you our youth.  They have the power to remind you not only who you once were, but who they can become with your guidance.   

Freedom.
 
This year, I've seen the worst of people and the best of people.  I've met heroes and saints.  I've read emails from friends who have fallen in love with their husbands in deeper ways, after watching them tend to a dying father.  I've sat by a fire in my living room and watched a friend struggle with the demons of his past, needing to admit a wrong-doing so he could be set free.
 
It is all energy - needing to be freed.
 
On a late night, a friend and I walked out the front door into the darkness, where she hugged me goodbye after experiencing a night of anger and distrust at all those around her.  I said,quietly during the hug, into her ear, "One of the hardest lessons to learn is that not everyone is who we thought or hoped they are.  But the trick is -- not to let anyone change the core of who you are."
 
We are all answers to each other's prayers.  We are all energy to be felt by each other.  We are all light teachers, we are all dark teachers.  We are separate, we are one.
 
In the spirit of freedom, I give you this reminder:  “Energy is neither created nor destroyed, it simply changes forms.”    

Start by admitting from cradle to tomb,
isn't that long a stay
Life is a cabaret, old chum
Come to the cabaret..."