Perfectly Imperfect- Friend With The Homeless

I’m not perfect. And I’m learning to love myself as I am.

Also I have a few quirks about me. I don’t like dirt, I hate seeing dirt under people’s nails, but sometimes I have a dirty mouth. I like to cuss. However, some conservatives don’t like that, they tell me to watch my language.

I realize that when people don’t like something that is “bad” sometimes it’s because they can’t accept that you are not perfect. The cussing represents a real part of me that might be ugly. And people don’t want to also see that they have some ugly parts of them.

Today after watching a movie, Keeping Up With The Jonesses (very good, highly recommend it even though online reviews have been negative…but trust me it’s funny), I walked to my bus stop. I was walking and suddenly saw a homeless guy with a 99 cents bag looking in each trash can for cans. 

Maybe because of the sake I drank, I actually was not so afraid to pull out a 5 to give him. Sometimes I’m just not in the mood. I was genuinely shocked by how friendly he was. He said that a month ago Gloria, which means Glory to God, gave him a new pair of Nikes. Well, he told me all about his life story….from living in Alhambra to becoming a drug addict, to being sent off to Berkeley to live on the streets since the center that was helping him stave off drugs did not house people.

I didn’t say much. I felt that this time he just needed a listening ear. He walked me a few blocks and then we shook hands twice to say bye.

I got to tell you, there was dirt on his hands. 

I did glance at it. But I got in there, hands in. I faced the dirt.

While we were walking people would glance at us.

And it’s true, the looks. Ugly ones.

I wonder how we bubble wrap our lives so we never have to see the dirt, other people, the homeless, the handicapped, the poor, the broken, the outcasted….but maybe by ignoring it, we could ignore our own dirt… know….maybe the ugly parts of our hearts that is addicted to approval, attention….the parts ourselves we whore out to have someone say “you are worth it” even though we flashed our tits to get it, or maybe dolled out our whole paycheck to please the woman in our life who didn’t really love us anyway, or the part of us that wants to control other people because it makes us feel like we are powerful, in control.

Or the part of us that posts a sexy selfie hoping that even the most creepy perverted guy would just LIKE it.

We can pretend like we are better than other people, because you know “I earned my living, I’m a responsible citizen, I do the right things”…but really we all have dirt.

But you know most of all, this man touched my heart by having such an open heart. He willingly opened up his heart and told me his story.

And then yes, I was thinking about washing my hands. But perhaps this little moment in my life touched me more than the ones I plan for myself. It’s those divine encounters that hook my heart to more divine love.