I am writing a daily blog detailing me and my family being homeless to process my emotions and take the lessons learned from the situation. And if I help someone along the way, I will be very happy.
Covid came back to hit me again yesterday and, again, I spent the day asleep trying to shift it. Hence no blog. I would be a liar if I said I didn’t write anything, but it wasn’t anything meaningful. I just felt dreadful all day. The irony is that I am due to get my flu and Covid jab tomorrow given I am deemed vulnerable because of my heart.
I saw a picture yesterday on an advert for the homeless charity, Crisis. It was of a family lying on sofas or the floor saying ‘this is not a home’. Sofa surfing, staying with friends and the such like is not having a home. And it was a bit of a wake up call for me because, essentially, that’s what we are doing. It might feel like we have a home because we have a roof over our heads and some semblance of a home, but it isn’t ours. We can’t really do as we please here. And I don’t mean that in a bad way, I’m not saying anything negative about the man who has given us the roof. Far from it, I will always be grateful for his generosity. But it did bring home to me that we are, indeed, homeless.
It isn’t like I didn’t know this, but I think I had allowed myself to get into a false sense of security. Because we aren’t on the streets, I had convinced myself that it was okay. I know we are experiencing a rather middle class homelessness, but we are still homeless. And I’m not sure how I feel about that if I’m honest. I haven’t really had to worry about where I am going to rest my head each night, though at first my husband had to. Yes, he got a hotel room but that isn’t sustainable long term financially. So, he was worried about where he was going to stay…though I always had the knowing that he would be okay with our friend. That he would provide a bed, a roof. I had thought my Mum would for me and my son, that’s the only place where I’ve gone wrong. But then, in truth, I’ve always had a reluctance around staying there for a number of reasons.
While I know our situation is not good, whilst I know my husband is getting unsettled again about where we are, I can’t help feeling that…it’s all going to work out fine. That there’s something coming that will make everything work out. And better than we could have expected. I can’t worry about it. I don’t worry about it. I know I am having a very lucky version of homelessness and I am immensely grateful for it. I’m learning a lot of lessons about me, life and the universe as well as about other people. The fact that, in life, you really are generally on your own and if you have one or two people you can turn to and who will be there, you are lucky beyond measure.
I’m not judging anyone, their reaction is entirely down to them. But rats do leave a sinking ship. And that’s fine, that’s up to them. I guess the lesson is, don’t expect anyone to be there for you and be grateful when they are. There is a part of me that thinks…’I won’t be there for anyone else’ but that does not help. I am the kind of person who does help others if I can, if I really resonate with someone. Yes, I’ve had that thrown back in my face in the past but it is an integral part of who I am as a person. If I can do something, if I have something I can give someone, then I am going to do it. And I will continue to behave that way, regardless. Because we don’t give to receive. We give because it’s the right thing to do.
In my books I write about the importance of connection, of knowing that we are all connected to each other irrespective of anything. We are all one. And I genuinely believe that. So, in that vein, I am going to continue to give and hope that it encourages a sense of connection.
Because I am soaring. I am thriving. I am successful. And I am so very grateful.
Louisa Simpson 