Thank you for opening your home and heart. Indeed so many are carrying stories like this silent inside. Here's to always walking each other home. PS> I had a similar experience while facilitating a workshop on we become the stories we tell and a homeless man wandered into the session as the front doors of our space were open to a courtyard. He wove his way to the front of the room, his Vietnam Vet baseball cap in his hands, his head down as he spoke, "I heard you sharing stories, I have a story. I'm sorry to interrupt you all. I'm homeless. I'm a Vietnam Vet. Im sorry to say I am drunk on alcohol right now. I just wanted to tell you a bit of my story. I'm sorry for interrupting. Our stories are important to tell." Then he shared part of a Rob McKuen poem and though I do not remember the words, I do remember it was heartfelt and deep.
I walked up to him and put my hand on his arm and thanked him for sharing his story and invited him to sit with us to join us in the workshop (what was left of it by that time) He thanked me for listening, he thanked the group and he apologized again for interrupting. I told him, no apologies necessary and he really could stay. He asked if anyone had a cigarette, my friend Dan got up and gently put his arm on this man's arm and pulled out a cigarette and walked him out the door.
About 30 minutes later we were sharing a pot of pasta and the homeless man came back in again apologizing. Again, I asked him to join us and he said yes. I made a plate of pasta for him and got him some tea. He sat and shared more of his life as a Vietnam Vet. He spoke to Dan who had offered him the cigarette. I asked if I could hug him, he said yes. Dan hugged him too and they went outside again to chat.
Here's to seeing each other and walking each other home. <3
On Oct 13, 2017 Kristin Pedemonti wrote:
Thank you for opening your home and heart. Indeed so many are carrying stories like this silent inside. Here's to always walking each other home.
PS> I had a similar experience while facilitating a workshop on we become the stories we tell and a homeless man wandered into the session as the front doors of our space were open to a courtyard. He wove his way to the front of the room, his Vietnam Vet baseball cap in his hands, his head down as he spoke, "I heard you sharing stories, I have a story. I'm sorry to interrupt you all. I'm homeless. I'm a Vietnam Vet. Im sorry to say I am drunk on alcohol right now. I just wanted to tell you a bit of my story. I'm sorry for interrupting. Our stories are important to tell." Then he shared part of a Rob McKuen poem and though I do not remember the words, I do remember it was heartfelt and deep.
I walked up to him and put my hand on his arm and thanked him for sharing his story and invited him to sit with us to join us in the workshop (what was left of it by that time) He thanked me for listening, he thanked the group and he apologized again for interrupting. I told him, no apologies necessary and he really could stay. He asked if anyone had a cigarette, my friend Dan got up and gently put his arm on this man's arm and pulled out a cigarette and walked him out the door.
About 30 minutes later we were sharing a pot of pasta and the homeless man came back in again apologizing. Again, I asked him to join us and he said yes. I made a plate of pasta for him and got him some tea. He sat and shared more of his life as a Vietnam Vet. He spoke to Dan who had offered him the cigarette. I asked if I could hug him, he said yes. Dan hugged him too and they went outside again to chat.
Here's to seeing each other and walking each other home. <3