When I was old enough to drive, I would take my mom to the music center to see a play or musical in downtown Los Angeles. Sometimes I would drive by skid row. The first time was just for curiosity’s sake. The second time was by accident, of course, because it was scary! The faces of those poor, sad, thin, dirty and sometimes angry people hanging out in the street with nothing but their washed-out wares were difficult to see, their hardship burning a memory into my soul. More recently, on my way to a concert at Disney Hall, I found myself driving by skid row as fast as I could because I was afraid—of what, I didn’t know. Were these people going to jump on my car, hurt me or try to suck up my blood? It’s amazing how fearful we can be toward people who are different. It’s not that I didn’t care about the homeless. I donated to food banks and the mission. In fact, I was generous with whoever would send me a plea for money accompanied by a return envelope.
Last February, I went to a “GATE” a Network Spinal Analysis (NSA) event held by Dr. Donny Epstein in San Francisco. Dr. Epstein had endorsed my book Beverly Hills Concentration Camp. He agreed to let me display my books while I attended the event. In the afternoon of the second day, we were to be completely silent. This was when we might connect with our soul’s energy. I sat in a corner watching others get their entrainments, light touches that move energy within the body, when energy quickly shot up my body forcing me to stand. I stood for a while and began to cry, not from sadness but from my body releasing what it no longer needed. Random sweet people came by with empathetic smiles giving me hugs. Then, my head started to move from side to side in a way I couldn’t control, an oscillation occurring between the two sides of my neck. Suddenly, a quick energy pushed upward and I could feel my neck lengthen and straighten, my posture correcting itself. My inner intelligence had taken over and healed me beyond my wildest expectation.
When I woke up the next morning I was exuberant, with a high vibration and a powerful knowing that my soul’s purpose was to make a difference in the world. Bathing in this idea, I looked over at my cell phone and noticed a new text. It was a message from my friend, the Shaman, asking me to participate in Homeless Outreach. I hesitated. “I don’t do that,” I thought. “I write a check and mail it. I don’t take this physical body of mine down to the danger zone.” After some thought though, I looked at the text again and quickly answered, “Of course! I’ll be there”. When I returned home from San Francisco, I told my husband I was going to help the homeless on skid row. To my pleasant surprise, he wanted to join me. This is the kind of man he is.
The next morning, we met the Shaman and many others in a parking lot downtown and sorted out our supplies before saying a prayer of protection. We walked by blocks of people living under plastic tarps, the smell of filth, sweat and urine filling our nostrils was horrible. I won’t lie, it was scary. It was sad and at times I wanted to run away. Then I saw a young white girl pop out of her makeshift tent. She smiled at me. She was about 18, had short brown hair, pale freckled skin and was missing her top front middle tooth. I froze as though I had just seen a large thick brown spider. Getting past my fear, I handed her a foil bag of warm cooked chicken, two bottles of water and a bag with fresh socks, a toothbrush, toothpaste and some snacks. “Thank you,” she said. “As I turned to leave, something came over me and I turned back.” The Shaman had given me a brand new, blanket wrapped in red ribbon to give out. “Here,” I said. “I bet you could use this blanket.” The empty space where there was once a tooth seemed to expand with her smile as I handed her the blanket. She held the blanket tight in both hands before running her hand over its fuzzy softness while staring down deep in thought. She said, “My grandma had a blanket like this.” She paused and smiled. I loved my grandma. I used to see her all the time.” It was in that moment I understood that people, even at their worst, just need someone to listen to their story. Everyone wants to be seen, heard and loved. And being homeless doesn’t make you any different.
As I moved on down the street, I noticed drug addicts lying flat under their tarps so I put water and snacks where I saw a hand reach out. When I returned home later, I thought “Why should we be helping drug addicts?” They haven’t lost their jobs or been thrown out of a hospital for no insurance. I asked the Shaman to help me understand why I should help these drug addicts who aren’t trying to help themselves.
He said “If we believe all people are one then the drug addicts are also part of us. They are the deepest darkest part of ourselves. If we help them, we help ourselves.”
This revelation made sense and expanded my awareness, another step towards my humanity, turning my own ideas into something bigger. I saw the other side of myself, a greater connection to my soul. I was another step closer to who I really am. I can go out into the world and be of service making more of a difference with my intuition, my own two hands, my book, my voice, my presence and my conviction. It’s amazing how a healing path can grow and spread. Each time we heal ourselves by doing Breathwork, meditation, NSA, and other modalities, we are changing the world little by little. And if we are lucky, we find a side of ourselves we never knew existed—unconditional love.