to fish or not to fish

“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

I don't think solving the deprivation of basic needs without addressing the root causes is a meaningful solution-not to say that a meal or cup of coffee today has no merit.  But it's very easy for the well to do (of which most of us are a part by the definition I am using here) to buy that meal in lieu of engaging in a meaningful way with someone who needs something more from us than a few bucks.  Sort of the give a man a fish vs. teach him how to fish idea.  In addition it allows a paternalistic approach to the poor/disadvantaged.  This serves to support the sense of moral contribution/superiority in us, tends to support the idea that we know better than the other what is good for them, and allows us to avoid giving that street person a full solution.  Because to do so would mean giving up some of our own power.  

Practically speaking, I believe the solution requires that the homeless, poor, and otherwise disadvantaged must fully participate in the political process to cut the paternalistic ties.  Bridging all socio-economic, political and religious boundaries and bringing all to the table seems to be the closest we can come to Rawl’s veil of ignorance.

What would we have done to us or for us, were we that outcast?

onus on us

The Co-Intelligence Institute website has an article about activism that looks beyond the adversarial, and views it from a more holistic angle.  The idea of wholeness, integrated in the life of the community of persons involved, and in the larger community in which it operates-this seems more sustainable.  It also has the benefit of allowing for flexibility in the response to various stimuli:  there is a place for assertive passion, but also a place for integrative processes and systems that reduce the dissonance of groups who may start from a place of enmity.  It can be small, as small as that cup of coffee, and large, as large as an effort to bring about major social change.  It can be about respect, or about joy, or even mourning.

It seems to me that this approach may also better survive the inevitable ruptures that break down the process sometimes-because it's a life approach rather than a specific project that is limited in time and space.  In this way it perhaps does resemble a spiritual path.  But it does not require adherence to any particular sect or belief system.

I suppose it does require a sense of obligation to our fellow travelers, or to the community at large.  To whom much is given, of him (or her) much will be required.  We come into this world with no choice about our parentage, our socio-economic or political position, or the genetic pool that determines our inherent intelligence and capacity.  Therefore what we have is a gift, and with it comes an obligation.

machetes and cups of coffee

It is not enough to do no harm, it that is understood as an absence of actively causing injury.  Yet it's overwhelming to think of all the pain in the universe.  I don't know where to start, there are so many needs, and it is impossible to discern which is valid-or are they all?

Activism calls to mind the people on the square with their signs at commute hour, Occupy tents, and noisy confrontation.  But what if it's a quieter, more collaborative activism?  Perhaps it starts with direct eye contact and a nod for the undesirable, one that is based in a sense of our common humanity, not a goal but part of the landscape of our own journey-whether we call it spiritual, emotional, intellectual or something else.  An intentional turning to thoughtful response, in ways that are sustainable or at least real.

As John Mayer's song asks, who ever did change their mind from the paint on a sign?  I'm not saying there's no value in an in-your-face, can't ignore me approach.  It sometimes is the only thing to start the dialogue.  But I find that what moves me forward is not signs, marches or protests, but conversations or other interaction with someone I find credible.  It may be as small as an act of civility, or as much as a life-long example, but that is what moves the ball forward.

This four year hiatus is drawing to a close, and I'm lost in the jungle of choices about how to move forward with intention.

dizzy

How rarely do we find our lives in equilibrium- mostly it's the coming and going.  And it's a long walk from here to there.  Would that I believed in praying to a God who would be my comfort and my strength at times like these.

a little help from my friends

What do you think about the smelly guy who hangs out on the bench in front of Peet's as if it belongs to him?  And how about the lady in the wheelchair in front of the Post Office who greets you and asks for spare change?  I saw her and another street person in a heated exchange the other morning.  They were engaged in a turf war-he was panhandling as people entered and exited the facility and she was explaining her tenure at this spot.  I didn't stay around to hear the end of it.

And how do you feel about the hungry, haunted look on the face of a lost soul who clearly hasn't a warm place to lay their head?  Are they entitled to congregate all day in the town square, to the eventual exclusion of families with young children, downtown office workers and others of the more 'civilized' ilk?

What of the small business owner who smells the evidence of use of their doorway as a street urinal when they come to open the shop of a morning?  And whose clientele is intimidated by the gauntlet of beggars they must run to get to the shop?

What does the law have to say about this?  What is the humane- the human way to balance the interests of the parties involved?  I don't know, really, but I'm thinking of writing a paper about this.  And here's where you come in.  Have you opinions about this issue?  Have you had experiences you are willing to share?  How do you view street people?  Does the presence of a group of unkempt, talkative people keep you from frequenting certain places?  Do you give spare change to the person who asks?

Here's me with my virtual hand out, not for money (although, what the hell, I'll take it!), but for your honest feedback.  Have a good day.

bread crumbs

We look behind us to see how far we’ve come, and sometimes to make sure we know how to get back.

Those two purposes have very different implications.  Is this path merely a detour from a larger journey, or is it part of the journey itself?  Do I want to go back to the same point from which I left the main trail, in order to resume?  Or do I question which is the main trail?

And do we ever know which it is until some distant time when we at last arrive at a vantage point from which to survey our previous peregrinations?

there's more to living than breathing

"I am a part of all that I have met;

Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough

Gleams that untraveled world whose margin fades

For ever and for ever when I move.

How dull it is to pause, to make an end

To rest unburnished, not to shine in use,

As though to breathe were life...

Tis not too late to seek a newer world...for my purpose holds

To sail beyond the sunset...

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

Tennyson

The unknown path awaits, I must needs go.  

Pushing the rock up the hill

A rainy Sunday morning seems to attract more coffee drinkers to the inside tables, and leaves the tables outside standing empty in the drenching cold.  Go figure.  This particular Peet's is located near where quite a few street people hang out, and so the rain drives them to shelter as well.  So I can't help feeling fortunate to have snagged the table in the corner by the front windows.  Here I feel cocooned and comfortable, in spite of the dripping sky.

My weekends are divided more by subject matter than by day-names, and so Friday evening was Bus Orgs, Saturday was Bar Prep (and some time spent perusing Netflix), and today is Remedies.  My pursuit of something to watch on Netflix nearly always nets me nothing, and I found myself watching a reality show about a family who live in a remote area of Alaska, and live by hunting, fishing and growing their own food and other requirements.  That was probably not a good use of my Saturday evening, but I did manage to get my laundry done too, so all was not lost.

In three months, law school will be done.  I'll still have the bar to face, but the tenor of my days will certainly shift.  Weekends will be something else.  I know I'll adapt, since I have done so before.  But I know too that the adaptation is not instantaneous, and generally comes in spite of my pitiful and ineffectual efforts to maintain in place.  I'd like to think that this next transition will be made mindfully and with intent, but I know enough to laugh at such conceit.  I really don't know what it looks like to an onlooker, but my own sense of how I transition is like the little boy in the comic strip whose idea of going from one place to another involves many detours.  Then one day I wake up and find that I have moved from one place to another, in spite of myself.  It's messy and unfocused.

Jung says, "However much energy may be present, we cannot make it serviceable until we have succeeded in finding the right gradient."  When I began law school, that was perhaps an external indication of a change in gradient in my life.  In hindsight I see that it had to have begun earlier, and the decision to go to school at 50 was the effect, rather than the cause.  Seeing law school as a stage on a longer journey, up a gradient of my choosing, helps me find some ease about the transition to come.