The Unclad Soul

I want to stand under a wild sky at night and hear the ancient stories the stars tell. I want to get lost in the wonder of trees lining a country lane and welcome the breeze that refreshes and soothes. I want to swim in the ocean and feel the soft weight of the water hold me in the rhythm of its support. I want to watch children play and relish the freedom in their laughter and remember again what innocence is. I want to make friends with a lonely dog and walk with it along the beach and rest in the grass with its head on my chest. I want to stand in a garden of flowers and disappear in their color and drink in their fragrance. I want to be with people of character and depth and withdraw into the intimacy of affection and know again the worth of my humanity. I want to experience the fundamental powers that define me and believe in my own dignity and authenticity. I want to examine the truths that are pillared in my soul and honor the stability of their influence. I want to...

From the Desiderata by poet Max Ehrmann – A line a day for the remaining Christmas/Holiday season: “If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.”

On my usual way to lunch to pick up a sandwich at Subway across from the Central Library, I made my way down Canton Street, past the Dog Park at Cesar Chavez Boulevard, around the curve to the intersection at Harwood Street when I saw him. He was a large man with full long greasy hair to his shoulders. I often see him in the area. The First Presbyterian Church's soup kitchen is near that intersection and many days he is sitting or standing along the outside wall. He is always dressed in bulky jeans and a heavy coat and he's always carrying in both hands old plastic sacks full of unidentifiable things. Food perhaps. Or items of clothing. Or maybe just stuff he has found along his daily sidewalk journeys down the lonely streets of the urban city. At the corner of Harwood and Canton (which becomes Young Street) is a small flower garden and fountain just outside the side entrance of the old large First Presbyterian Church. That's where I saw him. Several cars were in front ...