4. You're already part of a community.

What I've learned about life, riding a motorcycle (and sleeping on skid row):

4. You're already part of a community, it's worth taking time to discover that.
You'll learn a lot from them and they will pass on the mistakes that you don't have to make.

If we become the people we are through other people then the limit of my wisdom is defined by my eagerness to learn from the people in my life.

I lived on skid row for a week, to learn from people that I usually don't think of as the people in my life...

One man had been on the row for a while. Much of his world was defined by his drinking. What he did, why he would do it and his daily routine was highly influenced by his drinking. Even his sense of self, perception of what he was capable of and his sense of value was defined by him being a "drinker". He was on Skid Row because of his drinking.

His wife and family wanted him to come home, but the shame he carried over himself was bearable only if he kept it to himself, so he thought. His fear of someone else agreeing with his shame was so great that it held him to the streets.

After a very simple conversation, a very short prayer and a very powerful hug, Morris decided to go home. There was something very powerful about being in relationship that night. In a moment when someone else saw him at his ugliest and chose to love him, shame was revealed to be a lie.

It was the day after his 53rd birthday. He realized that he was 20 years older than me and thinking that I was on the streets too, our conversation ended like this:
"Don't end up like me."
"I'll need you to teach me."
"Then watch, I won't be here tomorrow."

I don't know what happened to Morris. I didn't see him again, but am aware of the realities that he faces in a process of transition. I hope he went home. Whether he did or not, I need to learn from him.

Shame is a prison we lock ourselves into. It isolates us and removes us from the relationships that actually bring change in our lives.