Outside the Box

Today an acquaintance of mine asked if I'd send her the link to some of my recent songs, and I was happy to oblige.

Those songs I sent her, for better or worse, remind me of three things: One, that something beautiful can come out of any situation. Two, that my Tent City sojourn (one resident in particular, for those who don't know) inspired me and transformed me more than anything else in my life ever has. And three, that I came there looking for something besides just inspiration, and got more than I bargained for.

I discovered within a relatively short time what the place had become, largely as a result of Lakewood Township usurping Minister Steve's authority and having him arrested for trying to kick out troublemakers. But my heart still told me to stay. So I tried to narrow my focus as much as possible. I didn't have much to give, but I did have time, a listening ear, a lot of love, and my own need to connect with others. And if someone there needed to feel less alone, no matter who they were or in what way they needed me to be present to them, I knew that's where I'd be.

Because I've personally never been homeless - I've never even slept outdoors save for one time - but I've been lonely and depressed to the point of complete despair. I've felt disconnected from humanity on a profound level the way many homeless people have. I thought my experience, paired with an open heart and determined attitude, put me in a unique position to help others.

I tried walking away once, in early May. Then in June, when the bulldozers started coming in full force, I returned and stuck around until the day the very last resident was evicted from the camp.

And even after that, I couldn't let go.

I always scoffed at the people who cling to an illusion just for the sake of having something to believe in. I thought myself intelligent and insightful enough to be immune to it. As it turns out, I wasn't.

Unfortunately, knowing the truth is not the same as speaking it. It was only in shedding my own fear and acknowledging my own insecurities and shortcomings that I was able to open my eyes and raise my voice.

One by one, the fears dissipated. The fear of saying "no." The fear of being judged for my vulnerability, intentions, and even gullibility. The fear of losing my sense of purpose. The fear of people seeing MY truth: that no, I am not a saint. I was just as much in need as the people I served. In some ways, I still am.

But, lesson learned. I will continue my advocacy efforts, supporting people who genuinely want help and friendship, and in turn recalibrating the compass of my own heart toward not only compassion, but also humility, authenticity, and yes, truth.

And hoping above all that in some small way, I did at least some good there.