There, but for the grace of God...

I hope Pea doesn't forget the importance of true empathy.

I got a new job recently.  It's awesome... but it's also the reason I haven't been able to post as frequently as I used to.  I'm struggling to get into a rhythm and I'm typically pretty tired when I get home... I usually have just enough energy to watch Lost and then hit the sack.

My daily commute is just about the same, but now, instead of spending 3 hours a day sitting in a car, fighting traffic and snarling uncontrollably, I find myself enjoying the suburban commuter train to get to and from work.  I'm actually enjoying something called "books," although I can't yet bring myself to read Twilight in front of complete strangers.

Someday.

After I get off the train, I walk about 15 minutes to get to my office.  It's a busy walk, with hundreds of people walking in the same direction, trying to get to work as fast as possible and out of the cold.

Along my route to the office, I pass at least 6 homeless people.  In the morning, they are usually huddled under a blanket sleeping, trying to fend off the cold and wind.  In the evening, they are often awake, hat-in-hand, asking for whatever change passers-by can spare.

In my ignorance, I have always wondered how someone can end up homeless.  Don't they have families to turn to?  Did they really exhaust every possible avenue of support?

As a result, I have admittedly been selfish and less than empathetic.  I rarely give any of my own money... misguided, I've always assumed they are drug or alcohol addicts and that they essentially brought their fate upon themselves.

The reality, as I am coming to understand it, is that mental illness often plays a big part in the rapid downward spiral that afflicts many homeless people.  Undiagnosed or misdiagnosed patients rarely get the help they need... the mental health system in this country is in complete disrepair and before the individual even realizes they need help, things are often too far gone.

Houses are lost.  Families, who once did everything in their power to provide support, are exhausted and bewildered.  

Homelessness is not the choice.  It is the only choice.

I passed a homeless man the other day and it occurred to me that he was likely, as some point in his life, very similar to me.  He probably held down jobs in the past and had a place to hang his hat.

Regardless of the circumstances that brought him to this place, whether he is addicted or ill, this man's hollow eyes were probably once full of hope and excitement.  His face, now covered in a long black beard, was probably clean shaven and soft at some point.  And I'm sure people looked to him for support and guidance much like Pea looks to me for this same purpose.

It was this last thought that gave me pause.  A wife?  A family?

My life has been forever changed since I met my wife, and since Pea was born.  I simply cannot imagine a scenario where they are not in my life every day.  I can't imagine losing the laughter that fills our home when we play together.  I can't imagine not seeing them in the mornings or kissing them goodnight.

I can't imagine any of this, perhaps, because I don't want to.

My views on this topic are quickly shifting.  I'm beginning to consider the potential back-story that has led homeless people to their current situation, and I'm definitely aware of the blessings I have been afforded in my life.

In small ways, I am beginning to change my behaviour.  I don't avoid eye contact anymore and I am apologetic when I don't have anything to offer them in support.  I'm beginning to realize that whether they are affected by mental health issues or addiction issues, they are still deserving of the simple courtesies that I afford all other people I encounter.

After all, there, but for the grace of God...

I may not know what I want my Pea to become, but I hope she doesn't forget the importance of true empathy.