In the beginning of these almost five years of no home-ness, I had to live moment by moment while trying to orchestrate one day at a time to survive. Tossed out into the world with no money and no plan was so daunting that I couldn’t even feel it, and meanwhile I had to deal with it, every second. It took weeks and months to learn the ropes of ‘making it’, with no space at all to think about the big picture or dreams or who I was, or anything. Just survival.
When I began writing ‘Homeless Mountain’ last December, I was not in that place of anguish any more. I was, for the first time, seeing light in a very strange tunnel that had become my residence, because roofs were showing up more regularly and providing time out, solace, space to breathe and the ability to see and feel…