It's 7:06 pm and I'm at home. I've been running around all day with Uraeus getting things ready for school. We are progressing smoothly. Also made a run to Long Beach this morning to take my mother to car repair shop. Then rushed to Santa Monica. It's been a run around day. It started with a story though. One I want to develop.
A man was crossing the street on Washington and LaBrea and was seemingly antagonizing some of the cars turning left in front of him. Screaming and kicking at them as if they were the enemies. When he got across the street he yelled with what could have been all of his force, "Shit, I'm hungry!"
I felt that scream in my bones. That scream from a black man who by appearance could have been kin to me. Shit, I'm hungry! I don't know that kind of hunger but I felt him. It wasn't until now that I'm present to the fact that I heard a man yell like that and didn't feed him. I do take responsibility. It was my job because I heard him.
But I wasn't focused on him at the moment. I was trying to turn left without getting hit. I was wondering if I was going to be in Long Beach to my mother before my conference call at noon. I was concerned about traffic. About my day. I confess.
As I sit in my comfortable home and remember the brother's pain I'm thinking about how often we are focused on ourselves. Ourselves. While a man is hungry and in pain enough to scream in the street. Bless us all. God, please bless us all.