Tips on how to understand a homeless person. You could be next
I finally entered this camp because my buddy Joe told me it is vacant.
I have been without a home, and happy in it.
I like my home. I really like my bed. I like my bathroom. I guess I am just crazy that way.
Hard to understand that many homeless prefer that. Nomads are very interesting.
I have a brother. In his circles he is very famous. He is a river runner to the stars and government. Quite arguably he is the best white water river runner alive. He was Rainey in the movie Into the Wild. I will just call him Brian – because that is his name. He is a giant of a man at around 6’7” I suppose. He is in his fifties with a body any 25 year old would like to have. Now here is the rest of that story.
Brian sleeps outdoors about 180 days a year. Rain, snow, high winds, blistering heat and there this man with a beautiful wife and a beautiful home, is sleeping outside. Because of the nature of his work, he seldom sleeps in the same spot more than maybe two nights in a row. No doubt the man makes good money.
Now skip to our frontline military heroes. For many very often they will not see a bed for months. They have a home base but they need to be where they are in order to do what they do.
Maybe all of us need to get out of our "comfort zone".
This is good shelter, not a ruin, just a place waiting for a Spirit Man.
A home can be a prison, or at least a place "that keeps my mind from wandering".
Finally to the point. Many people live outside a normal home. There are many reasons for this truth. Some are normal and some are practical and some are necessity. Here is the distinguishing feature; it is for people who need to be outside to do what they do, and they generally are isolated from civilization. Now perhaps in your well organized and socialized head you do not need such a condition. Good for you. But the same reasons that Brian and the soldier need to be outside stands for most homeless. They need the isolation and they need not to have walls and ceilings. Those very things that we normies so covet the homeless finds disturbing and scary. I bet you never thought of that.
There is a hole in my room that has an effect
White man moved my Navajo friends into trailers and houses. The dumb sons of bitches did not realize that corners are evil places to the Din'e
Homeless shelters are not the answer except for provisionally. A horribly cold night, a sickness, nearing starvation or perhaps a scheduled routine for a night to get caught up on gossip, cleaned up and fed. But the need to be free is there like a weight. Claustrophobia is not really the correct diagnosis. It is more a drive toward rather than a drive away from. It is not that the walls close in, but they are blocking the air and view.
Here is an interesting notion. Work in a good “soup” kitchen, serving. It will utterly amaze you the sophisticated complaints on the preparation and presentation of food. I mean yesterday the guy ate out of a can or a dumpster and today he complains about watery hot peas (well so do I ;-).
Visit an encampment and marvel at how organized and rule oriented they are. Walk along a long street where hundreds are in a row, waiting for medical treatment the next day in the clinic. Those cardboard huts and tarped shopping carts are the way they are for an orderly reason.
Take a close look. Those are haunting relics, do not pass here.
I hope this hub may inspire you to reach out. "Oh Lord if I were not a little crazy, I would go insane"
Mental illness is a major issue creating homelessness. We are all shocked to find out that 1 in 2 are ill. You may wonder why I laugh at this. If you work in a large corporate office 1 in 2 of you are ill and taking medication for it. You cannot ask but census and health insurance statistics tell the story. Did you know that the worker who walks down and up some flights of stairs to go outside in the air to smoke is healthier than you? Chew on that one!!
We all reckon that is OK Because we are normal and have a home. But just think for one second that the stars are your home. For some reason our illness does not cause us to be any more or less than any other Joe down our street. I must confess I would rather be my Joe in the canyon than every other Joe in suburbia. And so I remain:
The Walking Man.