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Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.
-- -- Martin Luther King Jr. |
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Samantha's E-Newsletter |
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Past Articles |
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| Thursday, April 05 |
| · | Samantha Doesn't Live Here Anymore (4) |
| Wednesday, March 28 |
| · | All You Need is Love (2) |
| Monday, January 29 |
| · | Road Trip Playlist (2) |
| Monday, January 22 |
| · | Two things... (5) |
| Saturday, September 30 |
| · | SoundExchange is Calling All Artists (3) |
| Tuesday, September 19 |
| · | The Journey (2) |
| Wednesday, August 23 |
| · | On Loneliness (3) |
| Thursday, August 17 |
| · | A Sustainable Life take deux (1) |
| Saturday, August 05 |
| · | California (0) |
| Thursday, August 03 |
| · | I'm Not Really a Waitress (0) |
| | Older Articles |
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The Journey |
Posted by: Samantha on Tuesday, September 19, 2006 - 12:00 AM
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There's a great deal to be learned walking six miles through the heart of Hollywood.
I don't have a car anymore, but I'm not one to let a little thing like that get in the way of my yoga practice. So off I go on a three mile journey to the yoga studio. On the way there I encounter....
empty sleeping bags placed very strategically next to full shopping carts. I notice the pee stained concrete underneath dirty blankets. I suppose homeless people are having dinner somewhere between 6:30 and 7:30 PM because blanket after laid out blanket is empty.
It's odd to me that homeless people seem to have so much stuff. More than me, in fact. A lot of the stuff seems so useless, but at the same time so important to them. Comforting, I imagine. I'm also struck by how organized their things are. Very carefully piled and placed and covered. I imagine that each person knows who sleeps where and that that is their turf. As a side note, has anyone ever thought about the fact that homeless people probably don't make plans? What's the point of saying what are you doing Friday Night, when you can just cruise by and find them where you know he/she will be? It's a simpler life in so many ways.
It takes about an hour for me to walk three miles. I could run it in about 35 minutes, but I'm aware of the challenges that await me at the 7:30-9 advanced Vinyasa class taken by Steve, who never fails to kick my ass and look at me like he cannot believe I'm having such a struggle standing on my head. Tonight, while attempting one of the most challenging backbends I've ever tried using multi-levels, I was having the hardest time getting up. I must've attempted it three times before finally pulling myself up with every ounce of strength and courage I could muster. I was shaking and sweating and so tired and he looked directly at me and softly said "Yoga is about the mind, not the body."
SO I set off at 9:30 PM to walk the three miles home through Hollywood, exhausted, but joyous and feeling better than I have in days. The sky was dark and the streets had taken on a new energy due to the absence of sun. Everyone seemed bunkered down on their well-organized pallets, but for those who staggered drunk through the streets calling after me "Hey baby, what you doin'?" I'm not a fearful person, particularly when people are too inebriated to do anything about their lustful thoughts.
As I pass through the streets I've known for so many years, I try to see them through new eyes. To give them the change they strive to possess requires leaving yesterday in its place. As much as I want to give my full attention to the newness of every moment, I find I'm like a wife who's been sleeping with the same man for 25 years, distant and distracted by my own useless thoughts.
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