Comfortably Numb

How am I paying for this place - with plenty of shame and guilt.  Yet, I am appreciative of it, too.  I appreciate running water, the ability to bathe, a refrigerator, ample space to cook, the ability and ease to keep things tidy, no mice, a flushing toilet I don’t have to empty, and I did indulge in some nice bedding, a good yoga mat, and an extra long desk to work and make art at where the wind, sun, and bugs can’t slow me down.  I also have one extra chair for a guest.  The thing I am most grateful for are the large windows and the view that puts me high in the treetops of a sweetgum tree where I watch the hummingbirds and crows play around, the way I wish I could.  It’s a small studio, a little over 400 square feet, but it feels huge to me and luxurious.  I haven’t had a place of my own since 2013 and that was only for two months before I wiggled my way out of the lease. 

So, why the guilt and shame?  The list is long - about ten times the amount of the guilt and shame I carry when living out of the van.  And a hundred times greater than the months I travelled by foot.  I feel I’ve had a taste of experiencing homelessness these past few months - but true homelessness can’t be called a taste…it’s a gut wrenching emptiness in the stomach that cannot be satiated when most needed and an aching of the heart and paralyzation of the mind that can never tap out…  This break only makes me more acutely aware of how strong the spirit of someone who is experiencing homelessness must be.  It is the people who live outside the system whose hands are the most clean and are the least deserving of shame. 

I only signed a six months lease…and the fact that a tree fell on top of my van and insurance paid me the amount of rent I’ll owe in my time here makes me feel a little more like Mother Nature is rooting for me and supports me for choosing society over more time with her.   But my hands feel covered in blood living like this.  Being aware of it and admitting it I feel a tiny bit less brainwashed.  But mostly I feel numb.  It’s impossible to have experienced both sides so full on and not feel overwhelmed in guilt - the numbness is the world in between - the only way to survive in this machine.   I wouldn’t be here if I could get the people I love to live in the woods with me.  This is only temporary - I keep reminding myself - as all of life ever is.