Homelessness on the Journey Home

I TRUST GOD HAS A PLAN
“I trust God has a plan,” I would say over and over to concerned friends, family, and clients. Our landlord gave us plenty of notice. However, when he first mentioned his plan to sell the three-bedroom house where we lived, we had no idea we were heading into a pandemic-related housing crisis. We’d been saving money to purchase a small house or condo. Yet, when it came time for us to move, housing prices had sky-rocketed and bidding wars had become common practice.

It soon became clear we had little hope of finding an affordable house to purchase in time. We decided to look at rentals. We were shocked to find so few available in this area, and even fewer in our price range. Rental agents we spoke to said they were receiving dozens of applications.

I shared widely about our situation. I figured our best bet for finding an affordable rental (or even a sale) was to make a connection through our network of friends. Also, the situation was full of learning opportunities, and sharing about all I was going through and the lessons I was learning is a good way to teach. 

CAUGHT IN A RIPTIDE
The perfect circumstance had arisen leaving me little choice but draw on the yogic principles and practices I’d been learning over the years, specifically the art of allowing with faith and trust. I often forget, but the practice of allowing is not a passive act.

My husband Brice received the perfect metaphor for us at this time, and I called on it often: It is as if we were swimming in the ocean and got caught in a riptide. And, what do you do in a riptide? You don’t try and swim against the tide to get to shore. You’d end up tired out. And, you don’t just let the current take you out to sea. You’d end up lost at sea without sight of the shore. Instead, you swim along the shore sensing for an opening which would allow you to safely swim back to shore.

I’m sure when I said “I trust God has a plan,” many people imagined that meant a last minute miracle. When I said I had complete faith, most people visualized a solution popping up out of nowhere that was better than I could have ever dreamed of. There was a small part of me (the ego) that went there too. But the greater part of me (the soul) knew whatever Spirit had in store for us was going to be perfect, even if my ego didn’t like it.

CONFRONTING MY FEARS
Back in winter 2019-2020, before Covid appeared, my husband, son, and I began practicing Wim Hof breathing and cold immersion regularly. Most mornings following the breathwork, I would jog barefoot around my neighborhood, wearing only pants and a shirt—no coat, sweater, hat, gloves, or scarf—regardless of the weather. I remember running in all kinds of weather–snow, pouring rain, freezing rain–and over varied surfaces–cold pavement, slippery snow, sharp jagged ice.

During this time, I saw a video in which Wim was asked if he ever felt fear. To the best of my recollection, he answered, “I love this question! Just like when I see cold and rush toward it, or I see heat and head right for it, when I feel fear I move straight toward whatever is causing it. I confront it.” I had heard of the many health benefits from doing the breathwork and cold immersion, but I wasn’t clear what was drawing me to do the cold immersion. Hearing his answer, I realized I was learning to confront my fears.

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OVERCOMING FEAR OF HOMELESSNESS
I had been barefoot running for several months, when one day I had this insight: I now know I can survive cold weather, and I have no more fear of being homeless.

Fast forward eighteen months later, I was given the opportunity to confront this fear of homelessness head on. On June 15, 2021, our family became homeless, lived for more than five months out of suitcases, and bounced from place to place. We stayed in five different locations for various amounts of time. In the beginning, I was called to look at my attachment to comfort, my belongings, and my routines. Next, I was prompted to observe my entitlement and to see how deep it ran.

There are some who believe to be a spiritual seeker, one needs to live simply and give up their material possessions, money, comforts. To me the benefit comes, not from giving up worldly possessions, but the building one’s life around the pursuit of such things. The benefit comes from giving up any sense of entitlement for or attachment to material wealth and security. I was only slightly aware of my entitlement and attachments until I became homeless. Then I saw how I felt entitled to a certain quality of life and a certain level of comfort and security.

FACING MY SHAME
Finally, I was invited to examine my resistance to asking for help. I was conscious only of my desire to not be a burden, and on the surface this desire appeared purely loving. But lurking in its shadow, I discovered a streak of individualism, independence, and pride, as in “I can take care of myself.”  Hidden beneath this streak of individualism and pride was the belief that I was, indeed, a burden. This belief was shrouded in shame. When you have a belief, it’s almost a given you will see its proof. Thus, I interpreted other’s behaviors to mean they felt I was a burdensome inconvenience.

Catching a glimpse of my hidden shame and being willing to feel it, released a river of buried shame–heavy, dark, and ugly. From its depths shame-thoughts bubbled up, “I cannot take care of myself or my family. I am a failure because choices I made led to being homeless. I am destined to be forever poor and struggling financially. And, I am an encumbrance to my loved ones and a disturbance to their peace and comfort.”

THE THRILL OF BEING FULLY ALIVE
We did not get the last minute miracle—a gorgeous sunny affordable home perfect in every way and available just when we needed—that some people expected. Acknowledging how uncomfortable it was bouncing from place to place and living out of suitcases, how stressful it was feeling like a burden to my loved ones, and how difficult and intense it was facing my fears and shame, I wouldn’t trade this experience for the world.

Why? For over half my life I avoided conflict, put off hard conversations and difficult decisions, and shrunk back from taking risks. I played it small and safe, invested a great deal into maintaining an illusion of control, and lived in my safe little bubble. Driven by my desire to awaken, eventually I emerged from that small safe bubble, and took the plunge into the depths of the ocean of life. Embracing the unknown and my fears and allowing the life force to course through my veins helps me feel the thrill of being fully alive.   

ICING ON THE CAKE
Our short stint of homelessness was another step on my journey home. The icing on the cake was a chance to spend six+ weeks each with my sister and my childhood best friend. I was gifted the opportunity to live in their homes, get to know them more deeply, and grow closer to these wonderful women and their husbands despite of, or maybe because of, how challenging it was at times. Being homeless felt to me like a wild adventure. Every moment. It taught me great lessons, impacted my life, and transformed me. Just as time carves lovely wrinkles onto my face, experiences such as these etch beautiful lasting impressions onto my soul.

POSTSCRIPT
After five+ months of being homeless, we found the opening in the riptide. A friend of a friend heard our story and offered us a small affordable two-bedroom apartment, where we can stay until we purchase a house, and where we can have our dog. Our landlord is wonderful and our new home is perfect for our current needs: cozy, clean, and warm, and only minutes from my office, and my granddaughter and her family, and my brother-in-law. During this journey, we met and heard of many people who were in similar circumstances. Our hearts and prayers go out to them and to anyone struggling during this time.