Getting the privilege of witnessing the mechanics and daily functions of a sanctuary such as this is overwhelming and humbling to say the least. My eyes are teary now typing on my computer in a Panera where I was blessed enough to pay for the food I ate. All the souls I spoke to yesterday did not. I asked these people straightforward questions about their everyday life and their answers, although not unheard of, especially in San Diego, the answers are still so shocking to me.
It makes me ponder how everyone is so similar; we are all made by man and womban, we are all birthed through womban. We all live, we all die. Man, Beast, Flowers, all the same they perish eventually. Yet some of us have fallen through these cracks during aging and it is not just a small sum, it is too much of a sum. People are people and we all need to eat. So the fact that some are having to be fed through means that are free and not necessarily of their choice is ridiculous. I will not dilute the reality of what is going on right now, while this is being read through your very eyes, on what is most likely a digital screen.
It would be a lie for me to say that I too am not staring at a blue screen right now typing this with privilege and a full belly and water in my cup. But it would also be a lie for me to not share with the world how grateful I am to be of service no matter how small. My heart is happy, even if my conversations with the elders yesterday do not construct buildings or monuments are not erected in our honor. It was a common exchange of words yesterday and really, they centered around very real everyday things like love and grind.
Something I will hold near and dear to me after speaking with gentleman Billy is that the heart does not forget that which it loves ever.