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I may be startled by something dangerous and sudden, like if lighting struck at my feet, but I will not live in fear of lightning or death, or fates worse than either or both combined.
It just is no way to live, y’all.
Fear, as it seems in my journey, is something to be faced and understood; and whether instantly or eventually, it is something to be completely outgrown at some point in our spiritual journey.
The comedian Bill Hick’s used to have a bit towards the end of his shows, later in his career, that went about like this:
“The world is like a ride in an amusement park, and when you choose to go on it you think it’s real because that’s how powerful our minds are. The ride goes up and down, around and around, it has thrills and chills, and it’s very brightly colored, and it’s very loud, and it’s fun for a while. Many people have been on the ride a long time, and they begin to wonder, “Hey, is this real, or is this just a ride?” And other people have remembered, and they come back to us and say, “Hey, don’t worry; don’t be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride.” And we … kill those people.
“Shut him up! I’ve got a lot invested in this ride, shut him up! Look at my furrows of worry, look at my big bank account, and my family. This has to be real.” … It’s just a ride. But we always kill the good guys who try and tell us that, you ever notice that? And let the demons run amok … But it doesn’t matter, because it’s just a ride. And we can change it any time we want. It’s only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings of money. Just a simple choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love instead see all of us as one. Here’s what we can do to change the world, right now, to a better ride. Take all that money we spend on weapons and defenses each year and instead spend it feeding and clothing and educating the poor of the world, which it would pay for many times over, not one human being excluded, and we could explore space, together, both inner and outer, forever, in peace.”
Now, that is a hell-of-a-note to end your show on.
So, there with that back door of this vehicle open in the pouring rain, I didn’t hesitate to walk even faster and get in.
This poor couple probably had to get home later and get a few bath towels to wipe down their back seat from all the mess I was making, with my clothes and hair all saturated and dripping from the rain… but they seem entirely unbothered by it.
These kind folks would tell me as we drove down the interstate that they were on their way home from an anniversary dinner at a fine restaurant and that they saw me and wanted to help get me some place dry.
“Happy Anniversary y’all!” I told them sincerely.
“Thanks,” the young man driving replied. “There’re some leftovers in the back seat if you’re hungry.” I was not really sure at that moment when I had last eaten a full meal and when they said it was a nice restaurant, they weren’t kidding. I went from cold and wet and alone on foot beside a million strangers driving past who may not even have noticed me, let alone cared; to then sitting warm in the back seat of a nice little SUV, eating a for-real amazing medium-rare leftover steak from a 5-star restaurant. These two essentially picked me up out of a terrible situation and showed me some first-class kindness. I was on a long misadventure to a city where some old family-friends still lived but I wasn’t very close to there yet, by any stretch, in my wild journey.
The best they could do was to drop me off at a Greyhound station, a few miles down, that was set to open around dawn, and I could maybe hang around till then. So, there as I got out of the vehicle and stepped into a dimly-lit greyhound station parking lot, I expressed, for at least the third time, my deep appreciation for their kindnesses; and they pulled away into the streets of the nearby neighborhood and back to wherever they called home.
I was ready to be patient; to be there when the station opened and figure things out somehow from there.
Instead, the night had other plans for me. An inebriated, or otherwise off-kilter, middle-aged man sort of stumbled from around the corner after about five minutes and began mumbling to himself while slowly circling the building. When I asked him if he was doing alright? he was quick to begin asking me if I knew when the busses started and if I had any change for a phone call and other such conversations. I was a penniless traveler by that point in that particular personal odyssey that I found myself on, and so, I couldn’t help him there.
He complimented my shoes and asked what size they were, and he said he wore the same size shoes as me.
Now, after the conversation had continued on to other topics by a wide degree, I was listening to this man’s voice with this five-star food in my stomach and having just been randomly blessed with a safe ride to that spot; and realizing what it might mean to him, I interrupted him on the small rant he was on about the government and the media and the prisons and the schools and I asked him if he wanted to trade shoes.
This is not the kind of move most neurotypical folks would have considered at this point, but in my heart, it felt like the best thing I could do for the man. He gladly took me up on it and now I was wearing some cheap thoroughly-used sneakers instead of whatever shoes I was sporting at the time. The man hugged me and said he’d be back before the buses started running, if I was still there, he’d see me then.
I had bought many thrift store shoes in my years thus far, and I was just fine with the exchange, even as I walked around the parking lot a little to sort of ‘break them in’ a bit and get my flow acclimated to them. Then, I was inclined to wander in search of a good place to use a restroom without getting any cops called or any weapons pulled, or threats being shouted in whatever dimly lit neighborhood I had found myself in.
I got about three blocks away, still looking for a good patch of trees or bushes somewhere that would be a good karmic place to take a piss unnoticed, when I heard a bit of calm music coming from a nearby porch that had a light on above the door and several prayer flags and a tapestry hung on display; the sights and sounds of which all-together sort of coalesced into an unplanned moment of pause in my very footsteps. After standing there in the street for just a moment, I began to walk a little bit closer and saw that a young skinny man was out on his porch with a glass in his hand and almost all at once, we mutually caught sight of each other. I gently raised one of my hands with my two fingers up like a peace signal and said, “Hey brotha, how’s it going?”
“Doing alright…You doing okay?” he asked.
I was instantly relieved that his disposition was kind enough to ask, even if it was just a phrase of courtesy and curiosity.
“Honestly,” I said, stepping forward slightly, to be better heard without waking up any neighbors. “I’m kinda looking for a place to take a piss without being a problem to anybody.”
He told me that he had his kid with him inside the house and couldn’t let me in to use the bathroom for that reason, but that it’d be fine to piss on the side of the building.
As I was walking away, I thanked him again and he asked if I needed any water or anything. Turns out the man had a few minutes to spare and was enjoying a soda on his porch while his kid slept inside. He brought me a bottled water and a can of cherry cola and two granola bars from inside his home.
I could’ve cried with the gratitude I had in that moment. It wasn’t because I was in such a dire need for food and drink, but rather just that it was another cloud-parting moment when humanity once again reminded me that there was still light and warmth in the world, no matter how dark and cold it could seem at times.
This man cared, basically, just because… for the sheer sake of my humanity… and it is these type of things that really keep the warm campfire at the end of the tunnel well-lit and tended to, even in the cold confines of the long dark night.
The free-rides and granola bars and places to piss without incident are just tiny examples, but there is warmth in the big cold world and the way to have more of it is to be it, every reasonable chance you can find, and to the fullest extent possible; and to not need or want after it… Easier written than lived, I know; but there ya have it.
It is imperative, I believe, to know that the good that you do in the world need not always come back to you in this lifetime, and that ultimately, true giving isn’t for the returns or rewards anyways, but just for the sake of what good it might do for others. This type of knowledge builds endurance to walk in the cold rainy nights for long miles and not be mad at the world, but rather surprised and grateful when humanity or the universe manages to come through for you after all.
“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses”
