AN UNFORGETTABLE ACT OF SHARING

When I was 30 years old, I went through what I think of as an early midlife crisis. I was working at the time in a high-powered, high-paying showroom in New York City's fashion industry. But feeling that something was missing in my life, I decided to sign up for a Voyager Outward Bound course in northern Minnesota.

For a few weeks, I lived in the woods, canoed the boundary waters, hiked and rock-climbed, and was left alone on an island for three days and three nights - truly enjoying and living life to the fullest with what some consider nothing. While away, I developed a painful infection on my foot, but dared not say anything because I didn't want to be sent home. I felt so free - so ME. I had discovered a strength within that I didn't know existed.

Once back in New York City, I saw a doctor who treated my foot. While hobbling home with my new bandage, I passed three homeless men on the street who caught my attention. I was drawn to them - wanting to better understand and learn about their circumstances. I always traveled with a notebook and a camera, and I politely asked if I could spend the day writing about them. One man asked if I was a reporter, and I explained I was just a regular girl.

These three men took me into the fold and couldn't wait to tell me all their stories. I am left recalling the sense of camaraderie they not only shared between themselves but which they extended to me as well. And I will never forget two experiences from that indelible day.

I had wanted to document my new acquaintances, and asked passersby if they would please take our picture together. Everyone ignored or avoided us fearfully. Some even made a half-moon circle to prevent coming too close, as if we were diseased. Finally, one of the homeless men in our group offered to take the picture you see above. I remain struck by the sense of isolation that these men had to endure on a daily basis.

I will also never forget the ultimate act of sharing I experienced that afternoon. Donnie, who seemed to be the group's leader, was responsible for collecting the change thrown our way. When a stranger tossed us a handful of coins, Donnie handed one to each of us - including me. I was so taken by that moment. Someone who had so little had the generosity of heart and spirit to share their humble bounty, even though he knew I was not homeless.

Each day, I try to keep this memory close in my heart. I wonder about the many ways we might give to other human beings - not just through money, but through compassion, time, and a shoulder to cry on. Donnie cried his story on mine.

Not only did they welcome me - a complete stranger - into their group, they embraced me as if I was one of them. That's an honor I have never forgotten.

With joy,

Bonni

JUST JUMP

I remember one day when I was a little girl,  about 5 years old, I was at the beach with my grandmother - my "Nanny."

She took my hand and led me down to the water's edge. I kept dipping my feet in ... and then running out. "Why don't you go in all the way?" Nanny asked.

I cried "It's too cold!" She then picked me up in her arms and gently tossed me into the water. At first I was startled, then all at once the water became warm as I splashed about, playing and laughing. I was having so much fun, it took her quite some time to get me out of the ocean to go have lunch.

When I finally rose from the water, she took my hand again and said, "Bonni, you'll never truly know what something is ... unless you jump in all the way."  

My Nanny taught me a  beautiful life lesson that I have never forgotten.

To really learn the true nature of something (whether it's a career, a relationship, a hobby) ... you need to Jump in all the way - not just dip.

with joy,

Bonni

I KNOW YOU EXIST

The other night as I was walking my dog Shanti on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, I heard a man talking in a loud pleading voice. "Doesn't anybody hear me?" he spoke. The block was desolate, dimly lit, so I couldn't see him at first. Oh, but I heard him. "Doesn't anybody see me? All I want is a bag of Cheetos. I only want a bag of Cheetos." I had already walked past him, but knew on my way back I was going to stop by the shadow of a man I saw sitting on a wooden flower box. It was then... I heard it. I don't think I'll ever forget his words, his words went right to my heart: "Doesn't anybody even know I exist?"  Upon hearing that I turned around and walked over to the man sitting on the wooden box, looked down into his sad eyes, and reached my hand out for his. Our hands became entwined as if we were old friends. I spoke gently, "I know you exist." Tears streamed down his cheek as he gazed up into my eyes. "Thank you," he said, "thank you." We stayed like that for a bit, and when he slowly released my hand, I reached into my pocket and handed him the only bill that was in there. "Thank you," he said again. 

It really doesn't take much to make a difference.

A connection between 2 human beings...as simple as letting someone know, you know... they exist.

That made all the difference.

With joy,

Bonni