I assumed he was homeless as he sat on the curb playing his guitar, singing and smiling. His guitar case was filled with change and one dollar bills. His chosen location was just outside the Staff of Life natural food store in Santa Cruz, California.
He was there every day, making eye contact with anyone able to do the same comfortably or uncomfortably. I often stopped to talk with him. Part of my reason to stop was to remind myself I was a good person, and could embrace everyone, no matter what their perceived circumstances. I even wondered quietly, what I would feel like being in his position – sitting on a sidewalk, playing for money. Another part, a background thought that I ignored, was how easily I was drawn to his smile and ability to greet everyone, and do this as he sat on the sidewalk curb, playing and receiving money – sometimes food. Whether I offered him money or not was less important to me than my wanting to make connection with him.
One day, as I slowly walked past him, we made eye contact. “You know,” I said, “Someday maybe I will be where you are, and you will be where I am.” He smiled, pausing long enough for me to hear what I had just said. “Why would I want to be where you are?” he replied, smiling.
Stunned, I walked back to face him. I bowed in his direction. “Thank you,” I said, “Thank you.” I never saw him again.
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