From Where I Sat: Thursday's Reflection

I settled in at one of the long tables in the shared workspace where I had gone to write. From where I sat I could look out the windows and see the curved entrance to Union Depot. I opened my laptop and easily moved into the day's project, but after a few minutes, needing a moment to think about the next word or phrase, I glanced out the window. 

I saw a man standing in front of a low wall. On the wall looked to be multiple bags, bundles, and items of clothing. I assumed the man is one of the many homeless people in our community. I watched him as he put on another layer of clothing and then took it off. On and off. 

I returned to my work, but I found myself drawn to him, and I stopped my writing frequently to be his silent and unknown observer. People passed by him without interacting. Perhaps he said something to them, but I don't know.

Later in the day I noticed him on a nearby street corner, still visible from my post. He walked back and forth on the sidewalk. Sometimes he seemed to be dancing. Sometimes his motions were like tae kwon do sparring.

My eyes kept returning to him. What is your story?

Then he was gone. After hours of being in the same location, he was gone. Where did he go? Did he go to the Dorothy Day Center for the early evening meal? Did someone pick him up? Did a police officer tell him to move on? 

Throughout the day I said silent prayers for him. Nothing fancy. Just "May you be well." 

And I remembered a friend was praying for me that day. It is her Lenten practice to lift specific names up in prayer each day during Lent. I think because she was praying for me, she was also praying for this anonymous homeless man. Because we are all one.

The next morning during my meditation time I read these words by Thich Nhat Hanh
                   We can sit for those who can't sit, walk for those 
                   who can't walk, and create stillness and peace
                   within us for people who have no stillness or
                   peace. 

That is my prayer, my hope, my goal. 

An Invitation
For whom do you sit? For whom do you walk? How do you create stillness and peace? I would love to know.