Elephant, Rabbit, Dog and Levi were all reunited.
Sure they were tattered and torn. Ripped and stitched together.
They ALL were. And not one amongst them was not broken in some way. But no one noticed. They sang. They told stories. They found great comfort together.And the next right thing always seemed to be a tea party.
Levi the Leopard #23/24
I just want to thank this broad online community for holding space for Alden Andrews during last week. I saw people falling in love with a man they never met. And holding him close to their hearts as he struggled and fought and finally succumbed to the profound injuries resulting from a massive hit and run accident in Liberty, Maine.
Thank you for this.
There is much grief but your heartfelt concern and empathy offers the gift of hope as well.
And if you are still able to pray in any way that is meaningful to you, please continue to do so for his parents, brothers, son and partner.
And may their grief be rich and complete and land finally in a field of love. Deepest condolences.
Not MY loss. OUR loss. A loss to community.
Thank you to all who have shown love and empathy during the last few days for Alden Andrews, his partner, family and friends.
He is free.
May we each remain in the love and attention we hold him in.
Take care of one another....regardless of fear.
Dear Anonymous,
It's a wonky world and the street this morning reflected the wonkiness. An overdose by a young man I don't know well. He survived. The police none too happy when I tried to see who it was. I can say they did great job at securing his privacy and anonymity, maybe less a great job at public relations.
The Reader, a man we know out here living on the streets who is also a voracious reader, had his bicycle hit by a truck when it was parked and locked at a telephone pole. Super glad he wasn’t ON it.
Everybody a bit edgy.
Coffee cards and loving admonishments 'to wash your hands.'
They are doing elbow taps and not handshakes.
The virus another stressor. ANOTHER inconvenience. ANOTHER thing to deal with.
And still there was love. Each of them signing off this morning with 'Love ya'.'
That hasn't been cancelled.
To those whose lives are right now hijacked by their addiction, by their substance abuse disorder, by their pain and their effort to avoid pain. To those that may not ever get to the underlying issues. To those that are suffering. To those that struggle with relapse. And relapse. And relapse. And to those that love them.
Stay in the love.
No easy task.
Dear Anonymous,
Robin, a Dear Anonymous, is offering a double stroller to Mike to use to transport items from here up to the shelter. It took four of us fussing and pulling and yanking with Robin finally figuring out how to open it. But it was the laughter that was so lovely. The street was filled with laughter. Smiles. Charles was buckled over watching the antics.
The street was full of laughter.
At 6 AM.
And that's different
And I wanted to just hold that moment which of course you cannot. The currency of connection looked like this.
Amen.
As I move between street and MaineWorks what I feel is this:
It is not easy to show up here at the MaineWorks Circle. No one shows up here because it's been easy. No one shows up that isn't fighting a battle on many fronts. Struggles with past. Struggles with present. Struggles with envisioning a future, of having the energy of hope to propel them forward. Because hope is like that. It isn't passive. It requires an energy and when you are exhausted by life and by all that has happened and all you have done and all that the hijacked brain of an addict will do then there's a storm cloud you have to steer through each day. A mad dog gnashing it's teeth at your heels. And I stand next to them. Hear stories that break my heart but not to the degree theirs have been broken. Of lost and painful and sometimes unjust childhoods; of repeated failures and broken promises and the distance one can grow from what we love in the throes of addiction. I stand there and pretty much want to salute those that can show up. Repeatedly. And for those that cannot, who disappear after a week? I hold you in my heart. A welcome mat at the front door to my heart, swept clean each morning. You have taught me that. Thank you Margo Walsh for living this.
Dear Anonymous,
My car appears to have been hit with a spaghetti bomb. There are strands of noodles and pockmarks of red sauce all over it.
This man shows up, and it is his way to move from tragic weeping to gregarious laughter; from being upright pushing his cart down the street to being on his back kicking his legs and arms up into the sky.
I find him spitting on my car.
Trying to remove the spaghetti splatters. He throws his lighter aside. Takes a drag from his cigarette and spits again. Then scrapes the car gently. He kneels down to get closer. I think he's got a future in detailing. He continues to spit and scrape successfully removing the mess. He wants to clean it for me.There is something devotional in his posture and his manner. He goes on to weep about his girlfriend with MS. He flushes with anger.
Then he softens and says 'It's love. And knowledge, this is.' as he continues to pick at the mess. Then he hesitates and says
'It's love.'
and rubs away the last of the stain.
Dear Anonymous,
And if I am busy enough staying in a place of love, there is no disappointment or resentment or judgement. If I can do this for a fraction of a second even, it is a good day.
Dear Anonymous,
Today it was so wet everyone went inside to get a coffee. All seemed quiet enough. Not always the case. Today everyone seemed subdued. Most often for me it is a simple task of handing out coffee cards you have provided. Or socks. And the sought after Blueberry Coffeecake.
The river I walk into though each morning is an ever changing constantly contradictory turbulence of stories and rumors and defensive postures... and I can struggle to sort through truth from fiction, lines of defense, attacks, constant transferential tsunamis and more. So I choose the advice of someone who wrote something like: Get so busy loving someone you no longer have time for the disappointment, or any other form of judgement. Amen. Sunday morning service.
And there just might be that moment in a MaineWorks Circle in the snow at 6 AM, in the dark, when you can see who someone is far beyond what they have done. Or what they have used. Or time they may have served. Or are serving. Sometimes someone will lift their face to the light, just so, and state what is moving them in their recovery. And sometimes we will be told it is their first born, one month old, that woke them to a sobriety not considered before.
And this is the magic if any here. That we, just for a brief moment, can see one another beyond what we have done, or screwed up, or brought down in flames, or injured, or overlooked. If there is magic it is this glimpse of what we can be and that traction to give it a life.
Dear Anonymous,
They are waiting and it's not even 5 AM.
One gentleman I don't know well is introduced and we are able to set him up with a backpack, some extra large shirts, socks and a coffee card. He smiles.
This one takes a coat for a girlfriend. This one takes a coat for a young woman up the street.
Someone else stops by on his way to work, living in the shelter and needing to get to work by 5:30 AM. He needs socks, working down on the wharf. I look at his shoes. Insufficient at best. I pray they have boots for him.
I hear a difficult story involving some folks I know out here. Good people. But desperate. And desperation creates some pretty awful, and most often, regrettable behaviors.
My heart sags a bit. Maybe folds just a bit.
But watching these men light up just for a moment is the gift, the lesson reminding me to stay with the love. Reminding me to be too busy with love to feel those stabs of resentment or disappointment or anguish or all that other wreckage. Stay with the love. Stay with the love.
MaineWorks Circle. 17 degrees: 'Your lives, for most of you, have come down to ruins and this is the chance, this is the opportunity to make it different. If you don't care about building a life, go elsewhere. Go to other temp agencies. You can get a job. But here, we are at your back if you want it to be different. This business was built on hiring the unhirable. Felons. Drug addicts in recovery. To give some traction if you are ready to step up. But you have to show up like it matters. Like your life depends on how you show up on the job site. Because it does. You do that and doors will open. Opportunities will arise. We'll be at your back. But you gotta 'Show up. Suit up. and shut up' and demonstrate you're willing and able. '
Then she said 'I do this because I love you guys.'
Drop the mic.
Off to work.