I will not talk about being a Buddhist.  The moment that trash comes out of someone's mouth, it's done.  People are done.  Eyes glaze over.  Religion mentality clicks in.  Red flags rise and it's time to move on.

So I won't talk about it.  Being a spiritual person, even eluding to the idea of it, is a big pile of garbage on the street and no one needs that.  

I once had an agent dump me because I suggested I might consider writing something "spiritual."

"All the problems in this world are because of spirituality," she spat. 

Of course, she's wrong.  All the problems in the world are not because of spirituality but who is going to argue with a woman who is known for getting million dollar advances?  You just nod, smile and say, "well, I will not write about spirituality then.  I will stay right down the center path of the mainstream."

I did say those words but she was still suspect of me and we were done.

So no, I am not going say "Buddhism" or spirituality or anything like that. 

Instead I'm going to write about fear and what I'm scared of, which is homelessness, being homeless, not having enough in my wallet to help the homeless, not having anything to say to a homeless person, not even being present in the face of the issue that is men and women and kids on the street.   I am afraid I am one of those people who looks the other way but it's not true.  I don't look the other way.

It hurts to see a homeless person.  It aches me in the gut and I think about ways to be helpful as I walk up to a homeless person with a hand out.  I think about it while I pass money over or buy a newspaper or whatever and later, as I walk away, I think about what more I could have done. 

Should I give vouchers for food? 
Should I give food?
Should I give water? 
Is cash the best idea? 
Should I do nothing and have faith in the services the city offers? 
What the heck helps?

I really don't know.

I once had a teacher, (yes, a spiritual teacher), and she said, "Don't do anything.  Just be with what is."

Be with what is?  What does that even mean?  Just be there, with a homeless person like what?  Like I'm a tree he stands under?  A mushroom in the grass near her feet?   The sun that shines down on his shoulders? 

How can I just "be" with it?

I didn't have answer and frankly, neither did she and after several teachings with this woman, I moved on because what she said made zero sense to me.  Be with it?  Whatever.

What's the use of being spiritual and imparting advice if what you say means nothing to those who listen? 

What's the use of bobbling our heads like we understand when we don't get it and don't have the courage to lift up a hand and say, "I do not get what you mean."

What I know is this.  I'm scared of being homeless.  It's a true fear.  And I'm scared for not doing enough in the face of the crisis of homelessness that is around me everyday.  Thus this weblog for one year.  But the thing is this.  Now that I'm writing on the site and looking at the fear, no homeless people are in my path.  Not one.

As I drove the streets today, went to stores, lived my life like I always do, I came across no one.  Usually Trader Joe's is good for a family camped on the corner.  Whole Paycheck is perfect for a guy with an issue of Common Ground (the homeless newspaper).  Heck, anywhere up and down Broadway or Weidler is a good as well but I'm telling you, something is going on.  Facing my fear and being ready is just making the whole situation disappear out of my life.

And now I'm bugged.  It's really odd. 

Is that the way it works when we turn to face our fear? Does fear just up and leave?  Is that what "being with" it means, in the active sense?  Because I am with it.  I'm ready.  I want to look at this fear and I am looking at it but now the fear has turned tail and run the other way. 

I'm not giving up.  No way.  I'm in hot pursuit.

Tomorrow I will be out all day.  Errands, meetings, lots of chances to give some cash away.  Wish me luck.