Pizza for two

December 5, 2011 Kal inspiring, 6

It was late on Sunday evening and I was out walking along the wharf in Brooklyn pondering which restaurant to go to for dinner. My girlfriend was busy with work so I was out hunting on my own. As I walked along the water front benches I passed by a guy. I took in that he had a paraphernalia of stuff with him such as a duvet (known in the States as a blanket, or so my girlfriend informs me), bin liners with clothes in them (I was assuming). As i passed by him I noted my own judgmental thoughts…homeless…

I wonder, if he did turn out to be homeless, would that still have been a judgemental thought?

Anyway, as I continued my meanderings a tale from earlier on in the day crossed my mind. A friend of mine, Tamara Gerlach, had posted a wonderfully inspiring story about a man who takes to lunch the guy who is mugging him (here is a link to the full story, check it out). With this tale in mind I did a quick about turn and walked back to the guy on the bench.

Excuse me, are you hungry? (I know, a rather daft question, but I had to start the conversation somewhere).

The fella thought the same and laughed at me, rather creakily. “Does a duck quack?” he responded.

A few minutes later we were sharing a huge (and I mean huge Pizza on the very same bench). He (John, was the name he gave) recognised my accent and asked me whether I was on vacation. I responded that I was visiting friends. He asked me what I did and instead of responding, I replied that since I was the guy who bought dinner, he should tell me what he did. He laughed and said it was a cheap price to pay for a meal.

John’s story unfolded in bits and drabs. Not being familiar with the homeless (yes, he was indeed homeless) it was a tale that was keen to the emotions in several ways. Perhaps it is unsurprising if I mention the words, financial downturn, alcohol abuse, mental and physical abuse. These would make the sub-headings of John’s life for the last four years.

I was moved by the tale. Of course we hear about the homeless people and (in New York city at least) they are encountered often. But beyond the odd dropping of some change in the box we go about our merry way. When the tale becomes more personal i.e. when you know the name and history (or what little someone will share) then it becomes something that yearns to done something about personally.

Johns tale had lit that spark in me, for John at least. As you may know I am a life-coach by trade and though I held my silence throughout listening to Johns tale of the last few years, my mouth was yearning to expound on the you can achieve anything and it’s all about limiting beliefs pathways to changing your life situation.

If I do say so myself, my intuition is an excellent advisor and pops in often to lend a profound hand. This was no exception. As I sat chewing on my vegetarian end of the pizza it dropped a heart wrenching thought into my mind. As I mentioned above, Johns tale included mental and physical abuse. What I didn’t say was that this part of the story was about him abusing his wife.

John’s business had collapsed due to the economics of 2007/8. As a consequence he had started to drink hard This had led to further financial difficulties and strains in his marriage. “The drink took control of me and I took it out on my wife” After a couple of years of this and no future in sight, she left me. I didn’t blame her, she should’ve left sooner than then, but she was a good woman, in a bad situation. When she left John couldn’t pay his way anymore and joined the homeless. He had tried to get back into the world but the final nail in his coffin was when he learned that his wife had died this time last year. From that point on he was on a steady and unwavering road to his death.

Pizza is quite a comforting food. The squelch as tomatoes mingle with cheese is satisfying in its miss-assumed healthiness combined with obvious junk food appeal. It fits the bill on many levels and leaves one feeling satisfied, particularly with the portion sizes that are rampant in the States. John and I sat silently watching a flock of swans glide along. I was at a loss as to how to continue (or indeed end) the conversation. Life throws us some wierd (curved) balls which we either deal with, leave hanging or drop. I was wondering what to do with this one when, as I said, my intuition dropped in.

“I forgive you”

Honestly, it just popped right out of my mouth, if I believed in such things I might say that something possessed me at that moment and it was through no volition of mine that the words came forth. But my mouth and voice it was.

“What?” John was confused (so was I).

I had no where to go with this conversation since I hadn’t innitiated it, so I stook with my original statement, “I forgive you.” I said again. Let him deal with what it meant.

“How, What?” He was confused and then, even as I think back to the moment now, his face was so amazingly odd, he said, “How can you?”

I was running on intuition alone and guessed “Who else can?” In frankness I didn’t know, for what, for whom or for why I was saying what I was, it just seemed the words to say. It was like a sentence that had to follow the previous one. The meaning of the words wasn’t known.

“Who else can?” I repeated.

John let the words stand for a long while, then his eyes teared up, “No one can now.” He eventually said.

“I can” I really wanted my mouth to keep quiet but it kept spewing these – uncomfortable – words.

“Who are you? How can you? I don’t deserve to be forgiven” Is what he said  (or words to that effect) You may think that he shouted these words, but he hadn’t. They were so quiet that I can’t even repeat them exactly. I intuited them more than heard them.

I pushed the remains of the Pizza (about half was still left) towards him and looked him right in the eyes, my eyes must have been glistening too at this time “I forgive you.” I think that he reached out for me when I got up and left, I’m not too sure. I just knew that it was time to go.

Epilogue

The above event happened a couple of hours ago and I am still wondering what it meant and why I said what I did. I also wonder what John will do and whether it had any effect on him and his life. Such is the wonderful mystery of life. We don’t get to see how the play unfolds for the other person.

Kal Malik

forgiveness, homeless, intuition, john, nyc, pizza

Observations Bank note