Idiosyncratic Andi

Every weekend, at the Whole Foods off of the PCH in Long Beach you can find Susan and Bliss sitting next to a fire hydrant in the parking lot. Susan always has a sign appealing to the passersby to have “compassion” on a homeless vegetarian and her dog. Bliss is a beautiful chocolate lab mix who is usually lounging in the sun or playfully greeting all of the people walking by (the nicest dog I’ve ever met!). Susan is fifty years old and lives in a tent behind Trader Joe’s, and recently she’s become the friend I love to spend my Sunday afternoons talking with.

The homeless are such overlooked people. I never realized that being homeless must be so miserably lonely. Susan, given the chance, would talk to you for hours about anything and everything. Homeless though she may be, she has opinions on everything, from environmental to education politics. Unfortunately, life has cast her a bad lot. Her mom was a paranoid schizophrenic and obviously lacked the nurturing mothering abilities, and I don’t believe Susan knew her dad. Recently she found out that her only sibling, her brother, is a child molester. When she was applying to go to college, after failing the math entrance exam multiple times, she had herself tested and found out that she suffers from a mental disability; she is bipolar.

This woman has spunk, though. The mental disability did not stop her from going to San Francisco State and graduating with a bachelor’s degree in English. She then found herself at CSU Long Beach from 2000-2008 studying to get her teaching credentials. She wanted to become an English teacher. Once again, life dealt her a bad hand and the system screwed her. You have to finish the credentials program in seven years or you have to start retaking classes, and unfortunately Susan did not have the money to do so, so she dropped out.

For quite a few years, she was living out of a van with her dog, Bliss, but she lost the van, again, due to unfortunate circumstances. Since then she battles out the weather in just her tent with Bliss. Recent rain storms have come through and made the miry clay around her little home slippery, and she’s fallen a few times, with no injuries so far, but I do worry for her health.

Being homeless and yet still very sane and civil, she has a very interesting take on life. She’s a vegetarian, for animal rights. All of the time, she’s told me, people ask her how she can be homeless and picky about her food — or better yet — how she can be a vegetarian and overweight. She then points out that it’s easy to be vegetarian. She eats bread, cheese pizza, fruit. Really, it’s just subtracting meat from the equation. How people can be so cruel to a woman who obviously would rather not be judged, but loved, I don’t know.

She also has offered up a very interesting perspective on other homeless people. The other day while we were sharing lunch and talking, a man with a huge bag of cans walked by, shouting and mumbling to himself and gesturing at us, the sky, and all around. She pointed him out and said that she considered herself blessed because she knows she could be worse off. That man, according to her, was probably suffering from schizophrenia. She preceded to tell me that men on the streets tended to fall into one or more of five categories: users, losers, abusers, convicted felons, or mentally insane. She then talked about how she often had offered money or food to other homeless people, but some of them were too far gone and would reject her food or start screaming at her. Again, she counts her blessings to still have her sanity.

One blessing she has that she’s grateful for every day is her dog. Her spot in front of Whole Foods is also right next to PetCo, and sitting there, she talked to some people and found out they had a sick dog that they were going to put down. Instead, she offered to take the dog and take care of it. She nursed him back to health, and now he is her best friend and also keeps her safe from strangers who wander into her camp. This dog is the sweetest thing ever. When I sit down to have lunch with Susan, Bliss will come and sit right up against me and look at me with puppy eyes until I pet him or feed him. He’s very playful and super sweet to all of the children that walk by.

Despite her awful position in life, Susan’s very positive about everything. Granted, she has her down days. She is bipolar, and I asked her about it, and she confessed that there are days she won’t leave her bed because she would rather not be alive at all. Fortunately she is on medication that helps with her bipolar symptoms and helps prevent the suicidal thoughts. Plus, she admitted, she could not dream of taking her life now because she has to take care of Bliss. He’s a blessing in more than one way.

She has dreams and aspirations, too. Right now, she wants a van. She talks about it, a lot, so I know she really wants it. It would double as her home, but she told me the first thing she would do if shed had it would be to “escape!” She wants to travel the country. She would head over to the east coast and probably settle down there. Ideally, she would like to find a place to live and find some way to work on a computer from home. Fortunately for her, jobs like that are becoming more and more prevalent in today’s economy. Unfortunately, she has no home or computer. Or van for that matter.

When it comes to being homeless, yes, everyone has the opportunity to work their way up in life, but it is nearly impossible once you become homeless. There is always something that will come along that will set you back, usually health related. That’s the case for Susan. She has been putting away the money that people graciously donate to her, along with a portion of her SSI check that she’s started receiving monthly since October 2009. In her savings account, she currently has a decent chunk of money. Not quite enough to buy a van yet, but it’s getting there. However, life strikes again. She finally recently got a bad tooth ache checked out, to find that she needs root canal surgery. That will set her back $1600+. That’s more than she currently has in her bank account, and will wipe away any dream of having a van for at least another year.

Really, all she needs is a hand up in life to really get her life going. She’s only fifty. I would hate to see her get old sitting in that spot in the parking lot of Whole Foods. I know that deep down she hates the idea, too.

Today is Sunday and this morning after all the churches got out, I was sitting there talking to her and a woman walked up and handed her a gift card. On it was written a bible verse and something along the lines of “Jesus loves you.” When I asked her if people tell her that often, she told me that they do. She went on to say that that’s great, and she really does appreciate it and she’ll tell them “God bless you” every time, but really, she just needs someone to care. People can tell her that all day, but she still sits in that parking lot. Really, she said, what she wants is someone to offer her a home or a way out.

And honestly people… Jesus’ love isn’t words anyways. It’s not a noun, either. It’s a verb.

My point in all of this is to give you a name and a face. Susan is real. She sits in that parking lot every weekend. She has a lot to talk about. She has dreams and aspirations.

So I’m going to ask for help for her. She needs $1600 or someone to donate the root canal procedure for her. Or she needs a van or a job. She needs help. She’s responsible and one of the most sane homeless people I have ever met. What she really needs in life is Jesus’ love…for real. She needs people to show His love to her by being the church and caring for her.

I’m asking for anything God lays on your heart to give to her. I will make sure it will be used responsibly and effectively. And if you are in the area, please come with me next weekend to sit down and have lunch with her. She is an amazing person. She just wants someone to care.

it’s long car drives
and bright night skies
and we speak in lyrics;
we are the music.
every word’s another note.
and this silence is so comfortable.
it’s boys and girls and girls and boys
and God and liars and misfit toys.
we’re all just looking to go home.
defining and refining the who that we are.
this is not high school. this is just a car.

we’re driving home.

who really knows where home is now?
we got here and we’re not sure how.
we’re passing through. it’s outlasting you.
we’re contemplating life and death,
what makes you move, what takes your breath.

we’re dreaming things
good children don’t dream.
we’re scheming things
good children don’t scheme.
we are the things we shouldn’t be.
we’re an army with no colors
but the enemy still shudders.
we won’t stop ’til we succeed.

just a silhouette against the sidewalk
you were never there, we never saw you.
change was just all empty talk.
we never moved, we never tried to.
empty eyes and desperate sighs
tug at heartstrings of passersby.

nonetheless,

the lines drawn out by life’s disgraces
sink deeper into their vacant faces.
still time goes on.
they sit frozen, the chessboard’s pawn,
scorned and regrettable.
disposed and forgettable.
still they pass on.
such inhuman human beings,
with newspaper shawls and paper walls.
such wretched and pitiable things,
they’ll never keep out the night.
just a silhouette against the sidewalk
you were never there, we never saw you.

surrounded by fashion,
by flowers and industry
swept underneath the rug,
Disgrace of society.
they promise coming change
yet you sit here in your waste;
broken toy soldiers
the spoilt children tossed away.
i watched you crawl your way
into your cardboard home,
rain coursing down your face,
amongst four million, alone.
and there in the warm car
windows up and doors locked,
i felt so very small,
so uncomfortably shocked.
strung out and so empty,
oh you wretched little souls.
they have blind opinions
but no one will fill the holes,
so seep between the cracks,
fall into the hidden voids.
we’ll forget tomorrow,
our forgotten misfit toys.

Dejaré amor a los tontos.
Los corazones quebrados
hacen a gente amarga.
Él robó. No era el suyo.
Soy más profundo que usted pensamiento.
Los colores se descoloran al gris.

gunshots count off the hours.
time finds us clinging to the dead;
let’s leave the past where it lies.
let’s leave the past where it died.
keep on. keep on.
further up, further in.
one against the masses;
one alone in the field.
onward men. marching on.
horizon aflame, the rubble burns.
colors fade to blues and greys
and night falls on open graves.
face to face with the traitor;
the last shot rings out.
stars blink out, dead.
the mirror shatters.

Nothing stopping me now.
I’ve put all encumbrances aside.
The line judge gives the call.
All runners on the line.

Toe on the mark.
Breathe in. Exhale.

Potential energy gathering,
Awaiting kinetic release.
Enter total chaos within,
Followed by momentary peace.

The gun goes off.

We talk of dropping everything,
Escaping to those places
that are not here.
Maybe Nothing
Will find us one day.
Then -
Remember old promises;
Old dreams resurface;
New sunrises manifest;
We never imagined nothing – .

I landed on my back on the soft grass with a dulled thud. The warmth from the sun coaxed the sweet scents of spring from the earth beneath me; I took this all in while lying there for a moment. Standing, I looked around. Everything was bright, colorful, blooming. A light breeze tousled my hair, brushing against my face as it passed on to enlighten the rest of the world.

Prodded by some inner urge, I began walking. There was no particular destination in my mind, yet I knew I was headed somewhere. As I walked, my steps grew confident despite their lack of direction. The sun rose above the hilly horizon. Something inside me told me, “Run!” so I ran. I began at a light trot. Soon my feet quickened as I glided along the ankle-high sea of jade. The rolling hills before me were enticing, drawing me to them, begging me to climb them. The air around me seemed to incite in me the desire to go faster, so my jog became a full on sprint as I reached the foot of a particularly large hill. I felt the sun above me, and knew I wanted to reach it, to touch it, to feel it. In a sense, I wanted nothing less than to become it, so I began my flight up the side of the small mountain.

As I ran, trees flew by, turning from shades of deep emerald to brilliant crimsons and golds. Heel, toe, heel, toe. My breathing created a cadence, patterned with my rolling steps. The more distance I covered, the more lucid the hues around me became. Then they began to grow dim, forming a fusion of dull brown. Breathe in. Left, right. Left, right. Breathe out. While I took note of my surroundings, my main focus was on my pounding feet as they ascended the hillside. I could still feel the sun; it felt warmer. I must be close! My calves tensed and contracted as I picked up speed. Upon reaching the top of a ridge, I looked up. The sun was intensely brilliant. It seemed almost too bright.

It was too bright. The light burned into my retinas. I shut my eyes quickly. My feet continued moving, but the ground suddenly dropped from beneath them. I drew in a short breath of surprise and my eyes shot open to find my world had turned pitch black. Something in me told me I was falling, but my eyes saw nothing. A scream caught in my throat, yet never escaped my lips as more than a hiss. The air around me was stifling, smothering me with its thickness. My hands grasped out at nothingness, clutching at clammy, humid air that was rushing by. The breath in my lungs was caught and I felt a surge of panic creep and seep up my spine as I continued to fall. It seemed as if there would be no end to the abyss I had stumbled into. There I was, forever falling and falling, losing my breath, no longer breathing.

I was stunned by a revelation: I had forgotten how to breathe.

My eyes strained against the blackness engulfing my senses. It felt as if I were peering through the shadows at only more shadows. Purgatory would feel so dark, I thought. I was sure I would find myself submerged in the Lethe at any moment, if I could be so lucky. Still, I was falling. My body heaved and convulsed in midair as my lungs burned. My heart was trying to break free of my ribcage. No air entered or escaped my chest. I was shutting down. This could not be life.

Finally, with the last breath in me, three words spit from my swelling lips.
“Help me, God.”

I suddenly landed on my back on the soft grass with a dulled thud. The warmth from the sun coaxed the sweet scents of spring from the earth beneath me, and I took this all in while lying there for a moment. Standing, I looked around. Everything was bright, colorful, blooming. A light breeze tousled my hair, brushing against my face.

Broken, hindered,
Bent from burdens;
Purpose, unfulfilled.

Dire volitions
Compose the mode;
Struggle, manifested.

The end ahead,
The means behind;
Shaken will, suspended.

Abdication
Impossible;
Now oneself, advanced.

With endurance,
The race is run;
At length, recompensed.

So now to sleep -
Oh, deepest sleep -
Sublime, consummated.

11.18.09