I know there is no change in my pocket. Looking into the eyes of the homeless guy, I want him to know that I am not just phobbing him off when I tell him that I do not have any.
"No worries, sir, have a good day. You have a good day."
In Shrewsbury where I live we have to types of homeless people. As I find myself in town at unusual hours you can se the divide. There are the homeless people, who, in truth are not really homeless. You can follow them home when the weather turns bad or after they have done their shift. For whatever reason they choose to sit out on the street during the day or busy nights in town.
You also have the genuine homeless. Those souls who for again, whatever reason, have no where to go. These are the people even in the bitterest dawn, in the strong arms of winter will be in a doorway. Rain or shine, summer or winter.
I was going into the supermarket, one of these mini ones in the hight street. I had been out before dawn to walk into town with my partner, and after monring meditation by a tree in one of the central churchyards I was ready for breakfast. As I passed the threshold of supermarket. The Mike Scott song "Wonderful Disguise," popped into my head. A resonance with my current siddha yoga study connected the moments that had just occured.
You see, it is said that there is only one consciousness, that is God, the Divine, the Universe however you wish to see it. We are all a part of that consciousness, experiencing itself at different moments in time and space. This is where our feeling of seperation can develop, when we get to caught up on what is out there and not the expereince within.
In the same way that if I tickle your feet with a feather, you experience that on your feel, if I tickle your neck, you experience it there. It is always you that is experiencing, just in different places.
To ignore the homeless person, would be to ignore self greeting self, consciousness acknowledging consciousness, that consciousness being divine, would be to ignore the divine. I bought myself some Shreddies. A sandwich, coffee and crisps for the man outside.
"God bless you sir, God bless you. Thank you, have a wonderful day."
Returning the man's blessing, I headed home.
In feeding a stranger, I do not just help them out. I am feeding myself, I am feeding that universal consciousness that we are just expressions of, I am feeding God. That place within, between thoughts.
It was "a wonderful disguise."