I often hear people complain about homelessness, how it is worse, economy bad, gross, dirty. Complain, gripe, complain…
But I understand! I see it every day as I am riding around Denver on my bike, and I don’t like it anymore than the next person.
But do I use that complaint to affect me? Or inform me? The choice is always mine. Problem vs. Solution.
So, a few years ago, the issue of homelessness became a passion of mine. I decided to turn the frustration into a request within my family. I said to my daughter, “what if while we are making your lunch, we make an extra lunch and when I am driving to my clients all day around town I can give it out to someone in need?”
She gave me the “oh mom” look and begrudgingly got on board.
And so a tradition began. Much to people’s surprise, I have never been refused, never been spit on, never been scared. Never.
Now, one caveat is that I use exceptionally good judgment before I approach anyone homeless in my Lexus Hybrid SUV, to make sure my gut says go. You can see it in their bodies, their eyes.
So, recently my daughter and I were at our favorite burrito restaurant, Chipotle, and they were having a drawing for six burritos. She grabbed my business card and threw it in. I said, oh sweetie, I never win at those things. She gave me the, are you walking your talk or what? look. I acquiesced, always happy to be put back on my prosperity track by my daughter.
Of course, you know what happened.
I won!
Not being able to eat one quarter of one burrito, much less six we knew exactly what to do: time for a homeless run. That was the best after school event yet. The pure joy of seeing someone enjoy what we easily take for granted.
Probably won’t change the homeless problem per se, or will it?
Regardless, what would the fabric of our lives look like if we leaned into our complaints and took action from there, even tiny action?
Loving and in gratitude for my ability to choose, Kendall
