Last night I dreamed that my friend decided that she and another friend and I were going to experience homelessness. For a defined period of time we would live on the streets. We each had a backpack with some personal items. I had a small amount of money because I had work responsibilities that overlapped the first few days of our time and I needed to be able to meet with people over coffee or lunch. (This is not part of my real-life job, but somehow it was in my dream.)
So on our appointed day, we left our homes and went out into the streets. A couple days later I had two meetings for work, one in an outdoor cafe and one in a fancy restaurant nearby. The people I was meeting knew and respected that I was engaging in this homeless experience, so I knew that my condition would not affect their impression of me. I felt grimy and exhausted. I was hungry and thirsty and most of all lonely. I looked awful.
As I sat in the cafe, eating food that I had paid for, waiting for my companions, a man started loudly asking those around him what I was doing there. Why was I allowed to sit there while others around me were trying to enjoy their repast? Was anyone going to eject me from the area and send me where I belong?
That is when I realized what the hardest part of being homeless was for me. It wasn't hunger or cold. It wasn't being filthy. It wasn't even having this loud man look down on me and wish me gone. The most difficult aspect for me was invisibility. No one looked me in the eyes. No one engaged me in conversation. No one, except those offended by my presence, even acknowledged my existence. I was subhuman.
I never made it to the fancy restaurant. It wasn't worth another humiliation.
I don't need Joseph to interpret this dream. For many, this most wonderful time of the year is the loneliest time of the year. As we are out running our errands and greeting our friends in this busy holiday season, let's acknowledge the humanity of those we see. It might be the most meaningful gift we give.
