Six Notebooks

I was uncomfortable and my heart broke at the bus stop last night. Sibley and 4^th in downtown Saint Paul, waiting for the bus and everything was everything and I was uncomfortable while my heart broke.

So many broken people. So many people with nowhere to go. So many people with nothing left. Nothing to lose, nothing to gain. So many people aimless and hoping to stay warm. So many people with nothing and nothing and nothing.

Broken, broken, broken.

Compassion and fear intermingling in myself.

This big world became one small corner where I waited for the bus on alert. My head and a swivel watching the people with nothing and nowhere wandering around, sometimes mumbling, sometimes shouting, sometimes singing loudly to no one but the great empty rattling around. . Real world zombies, me waiting, head on a swivel, moving further from the corner to separate myself from whatever was going down. Which was not much, to be fair, but always felt like it could take an unpleasant turn.

I did not want to be afraid standing on that corner and I was not afraid. Not exactly. More of an awareness that things could turn in an instant. It was a broken place without much hope of anything. Maybe the only hope on the corner was the corner of my mind that knew the bus would come and I would escape. I could escape, they would still be there. Hoping to be warm. Hoping to find something to eat. Hoping for a fix of whatever drug might ease their pain for a minute.

It was that kind of the place. The kind of place that no one wants to be. That I can usually not be in, that I can ignore the existence of, that does not impinge on my life. But there I was last night, fear and compassion and great, great sadness.

I had the hope of escape.

They had none.

Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Maybe never.

Peace

Be well