I dreamed the other night that I was someplace and Jeff and some guys he was with left me where I was (outside some house)– by my choice. I said I would catch up with them later. So they headed back to New York (?) going through parts of rural Connecticut to get to a train station. Almost as soon as they left I realized I had absolutely nothing – no money, no plastic, no friends, no cell phone, no nothing. It was terrible. I either had to beg or try to catch up with Jeff before he got on the train. So I started off through rural Connecticut toward the train station, but I encountered all manner of shit—storms, floods, mean streets, crazy people in cars. I finally arrived at the train station and by God, they hadn’t gotten on the train yet and somehow they’d picked up my father along the way. So all was well.
I woke up really shaken by that dream’s feeling of utter helplessness. I got in the car and drove to the Metro parking lot and as I was getting out of the car, some quarters dropped out of my pocket and fell onto the garage floor. I picked them up and put them in my pocket. As I got to the traffic light at Georgia and Ellsworth, an old man stumbled toward me begging for money to get something to eat. I gave him all the quarters in my pocket with the richest feeling of happiness and wonder.
And I thought that joy must be the sacred bond between the holy mendicant and the almsgiver. Both are touched by the gods in that moment, open to the infinite and fulfilled.