He lay awake listening to his runners' heart thump against his thoracic cage. Someone once told him the pillow was cooler, on the other side. He usually couldn't sleep looking at the cieling because that was how he did his thinking. That he could not sleep with his stomach snugly set below him on the bedding and his face buried in the pillow worried him. Sleeping on the side was never to be tolerated under any circumstance. He was either too exhausted to sleep or not tired at all, both undesirable conditions considering that it was 2:49 in the morning and the sleep for the last few days had been fitful, sparse at best.
He turned over onto his back and stared at the cieling. Thinking is what his mind wanted, yet he knew sleep was what his body wanted. He yielded to thought, mind overcoming the comfort of matress and duvet. His mind was usually the winner of these disputes anyway, since it posessed both somatic and autonomic control of bodily functions. A little action potential works marvellous wonders. Somatic would reign for the present moment.
Earlier he had tried to change his social networking profile to indicate where he had come from. But he couldn't commit to putting one location. He was a wayfaring stranger whose journey home had many stops. Each place he lived was one of them, or so it seemed because it was never a place in which he had stayed for a long period. Each place also felt like home to him, and deciding upon one place out of all the others was painstaking. Moving often and to completely unique settings each time surely wasn't helping. Why did he have to put in a hometown in the first place? He couldn't stake a claim to be a citizen of the world if he had a hometown in one locale. He would take solace in his daring to be different for now, until societal pressure to succumb to the norm would plague his psyche. For now, he would leave it alone, again, wondering if he would return to the debate and knew that he would.
He caught himself doing it again. Always the questions, never concretized answers. Perspectiveism - an answer would change based on how one percieved life in the moment of the experience. Living in the moment and reflecting upon it are two separate processes utilizing multiple parts of our brain. The brain of course is a material substance, with the capacity to be weighed, its matter analyzed with one being able to describe the elements that create the molecules that create cells that create the organelles that create the organ within the organ system of the body. The mind is not so. Though arguably reliant upon a well-functioning brain, its capacity is incalculable, and so are its limits. Its presence can fill a room or the eye of a needle. The most powerful force on the face of the earth cannot even be seen- it is a thought.
For a fleeting instant one of these thoughts occured to him - he had flown across 5 time zones and was now 5 hours ahead of his previous location. His mind, he intimated, was operating in both time zones at the same time, making his days 29 hours long, or so it seemed. Had he inadvertently found the way to both cheat and create more time for oneself simultaneously? It wouldn't be a very helpful skill if the increase in time yielded productivity. Time of course has its own agenda. It runs faster than us all; not even the best sprinter or well-trained distance pace can catch Time. Eventually this momentary lag in the perception of Time would be erased as Time would catch and then surpass. Yet we try anyway. Is it our yearning for self-preservation that drives us?
Why had he flown all this way, away from the life he had known? Of course the obvious answers flashed across the embellishment his mind created using the blank canvas of the cieling above. But why here? Why now? Why him? These were the real questions that he hoped his being here would answer. It was not the promise of the adventure but the adventure itself that was worth taking the first step forward, blindfolded almost. "Why do you want to study here?" Asked of him by the Border Agent after a tedious 8-hour journey that took 15 hours. His answer: "I wanted a new experience." It is often a good idea to embrace what one does not know in order to shape what one already does. That is the nature of growth. Much like a tree one must bend to favorable light sources to sustain that growth or run the risk of botched photosynthesis.
His eyelids were becoming leaden, the cadence of his breathing slowed. The body's natural music, a melodic configuration leading to its own repose. Rest, sleep, silence. It was, after all, the end of the day, and the cyclical play of the ascension of the sun to its throne in the center of the sky, before falling from grace and wallowing in the depths of the West, would begin again. He remembered the dull, orange glow of the street lamp casting insufficient luminence. He turned over. Then nothing.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Storming Fury
This is a story of the fury that was caused by the storm that most recently devastated the East Coast. The fury, however, belongs to the people who were devastated and not to the ominous, tumbling clouds that blanketed the sky in a salt and pepper haze. These are the people who may have heard the call and it would have done them well to evacuate the dangerous areas, but had no particular place to evacuate from. These are the men and women who brave all elements, so when the black clouds of the storm rolled in and stifled the light, it meant more to them than not being able to party at the local club later that night. Their worries are more numerous than the pellets that pelted from the sky across the Eastern seaboard this weekend. They are the homeless.
We look specifically at one individual, who asked to have his name witheld in order to retain an untainted professional relationship with future employers. His was an unique tale. Initially, he was gainfully employed, enjoying the luxury of a full time job- with benefits. He had no real reason to leave because the money was steady and reliable. He couldn't be counted as one of the 9.1% of the unemployed, some of whom turned to the federal government for help. Yet, he no longer inhabited the address listed for his job. He received his check via direct deposit, so that he would not run the risk of losing a much needed, self-earned economic stimulus. Too proud, or ineligible because of his employment status, or even because there was just no room in an already overcrowded resting place, he was unable to spend nights at housing provided by the Doe Fund, a service that provides men and women with housing and opportunities for temporary blue collar jobs.
He was one of the 15% of people who were an anomoly among the homeless - working a full-time job but unable to consistently pay for accommodation. He was a loyal taxpayer, with exorbitant sums being taken liberally from his paycheck and when purchasing miscellaneous goods and services. He recently started a payment plan for the mountain of debt he incurred from taking out numerous loans and payment deliquence fees. But one perticular service of interest he could not afford was rent. Working at minimum wage as he was, it is estimated that he would have to work 85 hours a week to be able to afford rent and other necessary commodities in a major city such as New York. Unforuntately, his place of employment was only open 5 days a week, for no more than 12 hours a day. Even if he picked up every available shift from opening to closing as he was often wont to do, he would still be unable to tend to all of his needs.
"It's been a long time since I've been inside here," he remarked over coffee at a well-known coffee shop, well-clad in a clean but gently worn suit. "I've been musing over my situation for the longest while. It's understandable that I would have acquired a lot of debt in the time that I spent without a job. You just never think that one day you'd be unable to pay for a roof over your head. How do you prepare for that?"
He chose food, which he has to buy every day because he has no where to store or preserve it, inexpensive methods of telecommunications and clean clothing over accommodation. He cuts his own hair, shaves and takes his showers in the bathroom at the Pennsylvania Train Station, only to emerge with a false sense of cleanliness and security. Sometimes, an extremely rare occurence, there would be just enough saved to spend a night at a bed and breakfast, a fleeting splurge luxurious in nature. But on a regular basis he would join the ranks of those whose numbers range from 445,000 to 800,000 across the country on any given night, as determined by a "point in time" count. This particular approximation is based on volunteers and administrators physically combing the streets of cities across the nation on a particular night and making a note of the people who establish various encampments on street corners, park benches, temporary housing and multiple train seats. This number is also indicative of 10% of the national population already living in poverty, except that the homeless are so far below the poverty line that they are typically often forgotten.
"I was one of the unlucky ones to lose my job at the economic downturn. But I never thought I'd lose everything. I was optimistic - too much so I suppose. What started as an all-nighter in a chair on Times Square spiralled quickly downward into numerous nights out here. A year now probably? I've lost count."
Psychologically, the stressor of finding a new abode every night for the past year had taken its toll. Even before the storm rolled in, he was constantly worried, depressed and anxious and this manifested itself as an increased form of aggression. His coworkers were no longer able to tolerate his unexpected mood swings. His manager appreciated his work ethic in general and didn't want to let him go, but considered that he would benefit by working less hours. Part-time now. No more benefits. Irene came and went and grocery stores were late in restocking, meaning he had to go without food. Hostility and unpleasantness exacerbated and at the end of this work week he was eventually asked to leave.
"I felt so uneasy around my boss, everyone in the workplace. I felt so enclosed, trapped. But I couldn't understand why. I've never had an affinity for violence. The blood just sort of rushed to my head and I just stormed out of there." He broke a smile at his own pun, a momentary flash of a sense of humor that seemed to show his former self. "I know I need help, but I spend all of my time looking for a place to comfortably rest my head at night, not looking up counsellors."
What can we do to help provide for these men, women and children who are most in need? They lack one of the most basic of human necessities - shelter. For some, taking refuge from the coming storm only heightened their sense of urgency and their sentiments of despair. Scaffolding with flimsy zinc roofing was a perilous alternative, but for many it was the only alternative. His situation is a rare one, as for the moment he is not one of the many who must depend on the whim, fancy and generosity of others to get their next meal, but like a majority of other homeless wayfarers, his prospects and hope are quickly receding much like the flood waters of the recent tropical storm.
Sources:
-Greenberg, J. Comprehensive Stress Management. 11th Ed, Mc-Graw Hill.
-National Coalition for the Homeless
http://www.nationalhomeless.org/factsheets/How_Many.html
-U.S. Conference of Mayors. 2008 Status Report on Hunger & Homelessness. Available from http://usmayors.org/pressreleases/documents/hungerhomelessnessreport_121208.pdf
-U.S. Conference of Mayors. A Hunger and Homelessness Survey, 2007. Available from http://usmayors.org/uscm/home.asp
We look specifically at one individual, who asked to have his name witheld in order to retain an untainted professional relationship with future employers. His was an unique tale. Initially, he was gainfully employed, enjoying the luxury of a full time job- with benefits. He had no real reason to leave because the money was steady and reliable. He couldn't be counted as one of the 9.1% of the unemployed, some of whom turned to the federal government for help. Yet, he no longer inhabited the address listed for his job. He received his check via direct deposit, so that he would not run the risk of losing a much needed, self-earned economic stimulus. Too proud, or ineligible because of his employment status, or even because there was just no room in an already overcrowded resting place, he was unable to spend nights at housing provided by the Doe Fund, a service that provides men and women with housing and opportunities for temporary blue collar jobs.
He was one of the 15% of people who were an anomoly among the homeless - working a full-time job but unable to consistently pay for accommodation. He was a loyal taxpayer, with exorbitant sums being taken liberally from his paycheck and when purchasing miscellaneous goods and services. He recently started a payment plan for the mountain of debt he incurred from taking out numerous loans and payment deliquence fees. But one perticular service of interest he could not afford was rent. Working at minimum wage as he was, it is estimated that he would have to work 85 hours a week to be able to afford rent and other necessary commodities in a major city such as New York. Unforuntately, his place of employment was only open 5 days a week, for no more than 12 hours a day. Even if he picked up every available shift from opening to closing as he was often wont to do, he would still be unable to tend to all of his needs.
"It's been a long time since I've been inside here," he remarked over coffee at a well-known coffee shop, well-clad in a clean but gently worn suit. "I've been musing over my situation for the longest while. It's understandable that I would have acquired a lot of debt in the time that I spent without a job. You just never think that one day you'd be unable to pay for a roof over your head. How do you prepare for that?"
He chose food, which he has to buy every day because he has no where to store or preserve it, inexpensive methods of telecommunications and clean clothing over accommodation. He cuts his own hair, shaves and takes his showers in the bathroom at the Pennsylvania Train Station, only to emerge with a false sense of cleanliness and security. Sometimes, an extremely rare occurence, there would be just enough saved to spend a night at a bed and breakfast, a fleeting splurge luxurious in nature. But on a regular basis he would join the ranks of those whose numbers range from 445,000 to 800,000 across the country on any given night, as determined by a "point in time" count. This particular approximation is based on volunteers and administrators physically combing the streets of cities across the nation on a particular night and making a note of the people who establish various encampments on street corners, park benches, temporary housing and multiple train seats. This number is also indicative of 10% of the national population already living in poverty, except that the homeless are so far below the poverty line that they are typically often forgotten.
"I was one of the unlucky ones to lose my job at the economic downturn. But I never thought I'd lose everything. I was optimistic - too much so I suppose. What started as an all-nighter in a chair on Times Square spiralled quickly downward into numerous nights out here. A year now probably? I've lost count."
Psychologically, the stressor of finding a new abode every night for the past year had taken its toll. Even before the storm rolled in, he was constantly worried, depressed and anxious and this manifested itself as an increased form of aggression. His coworkers were no longer able to tolerate his unexpected mood swings. His manager appreciated his work ethic in general and didn't want to let him go, but considered that he would benefit by working less hours. Part-time now. No more benefits. Irene came and went and grocery stores were late in restocking, meaning he had to go without food. Hostility and unpleasantness exacerbated and at the end of this work week he was eventually asked to leave.
"I felt so uneasy around my boss, everyone in the workplace. I felt so enclosed, trapped. But I couldn't understand why. I've never had an affinity for violence. The blood just sort of rushed to my head and I just stormed out of there." He broke a smile at his own pun, a momentary flash of a sense of humor that seemed to show his former self. "I know I need help, but I spend all of my time looking for a place to comfortably rest my head at night, not looking up counsellors."
What can we do to help provide for these men, women and children who are most in need? They lack one of the most basic of human necessities - shelter. For some, taking refuge from the coming storm only heightened their sense of urgency and their sentiments of despair. Scaffolding with flimsy zinc roofing was a perilous alternative, but for many it was the only alternative. His situation is a rare one, as for the moment he is not one of the many who must depend on the whim, fancy and generosity of others to get their next meal, but like a majority of other homeless wayfarers, his prospects and hope are quickly receding much like the flood waters of the recent tropical storm.
Sources:
-Greenberg, J. Comprehensive Stress Management. 11th Ed, Mc-Graw Hill.
-National Coalition for the Homeless
http://www.nationalhomeless.org/factsheets/How_Many.html
-U.S. Conference of Mayors. 2008 Status Report on Hunger & Homelessness. Available from http://usmayors.org/pressreleases/documents/hungerhomelessnessreport_121208.pdf
-U.S. Conference of Mayors. A Hunger and Homelessness Survey, 2007. Available from http://usmayors.org/uscm/home.asp
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