Radical Simplicity and a Beautiful, Messy Life

What I want you to know about Homelessness

What I want you to know about homelessness is that even those of us that chose it didn't feel like we had much of a choice.

That many of us need far more than just a home, but support, counselling, acceptance, someone who loves us just the way we are. 

That it has its perks: answering to nobody, good panhandling days. 

And it's terrifying.  Every. Single. Day.

It stinks, literally. That bench you're sleeping on got pissed on last night. 

What I want you to know about homelessness is that takes many forms. It can be a tent in the woods or a series of friends couches or emergency shelters or the back of a truck. 

That when you're homeless, meeting your basic needs can be an arduous task. Finding a place to sleep, food to eat, even a place to pee, is complicated. 

What I want you to know about homelessness is that sometimes we don't have any bootstraps left to pull ourselves up by.

That we may have burnt bridges, squandered opportunities, learned destructive patterns of behaviour. But that's not who we are. We are all so much more than the mistakes that we've made.

What I want you to know about homelessness is that it can happen to you. I know soccer moms and church elders and youth group leaders who encountered addiction or mental illness or family breakdowns and lost everything. 

What I want you to know is that the opposite of homelessness is NOT just having a place to live. The opposite of homelessness is relationship, community, friendship, support, and justice.

I want you to know that friends don't let friends sleep on park benches. And neighbours don't let neighbours move into their car. That when we build community we are doing a small and precious part to reduce homelessness. 

What I want you to know about homelessness is that you have the power to change it. In the million small ways you interact with your culture every day and sow seeds and affirm or challenge assumptions. In a million ways everyday we can send the message that every life matters, that nobody should have to sleep on piss stained concrete, that community is a part of the human design. 

You can do small things with great love and make a difference. 

What I want you to know about homelessness is that it doesn't diminish a persons worth. Everyone deserves dignity, respect, options, and hope.

Will you take a moment to follow me on facebook, twitter, or instagram? And thank you for reading my words, I'm honoured.


  1. So glad you're back. I missed you.

  2. Me too .... 2 wonderful posts today. Thank you for your words of wisdom and reality. Good to see you posting again.

  3. I am so glad you are back. You are missed. Great posts.

  4. you are so kind!you inspired me on writing and helping about homeless, just like this person https://kovla.com/blog/how-i-fell-in-love-with-a-homeless-man/ wjo fell in love with a homeless man!True love exist!

  5. I have been homeless, not through anything I did but what life dealt me. My husband passed away and I had been caring for him so didn't have a job to pay for the house we rented. I spent the next two years on now ex-friends couches, on benches, under bridges, etc. I lost everything I owned three times in those two years due to circumstances I had no control over (friends expecting me to pay for things I could not etc). I learned very early on that many of those who I called friend were only out for themselves and sometimes I moved back to the street on my own and sometimes I was forced. It was not a comfortable life but I do remember those few who would pass me a buck here and there and sometimes more along the way. I can not and will not ever look at a homeless person the same. They are my kin, they became family as I saw them at the soup kitchens, or under the bridges etc. Homeless is NOT most people choose to be. Many people tell me I grew through that experience, sometimes I wonder, but other times I see the growth and would not ever take back a minute of what those times made me, including those times (more often than I can count) that I slept on the ground under the snowfall that fell that night.