Inner Cities

Spiritual practitioners often long for a solitary life in the mountains surrounded by wilderness. Yet the city can be an equally conducive, or even better, environment for practice. Unlike wild places, cities don't have many trees, except those in parks, but they have many people and, if you think about it, people are natural too. Because they're filled with people, cities present far more opportunities for us to practice kindness, compassion, joy in others' happiness, and equanimous care toward everyone.

In the city, even locked in our apartment, we cannot escape the fact that others surround us. There's the woman who lives in the next apartment, a passerby who sometimes sleeps on the balcony, and the drummer upstairs. If we isolate ourselves too much, we won't be able to practice loving-kindness. On the other hand, if we cultivate a sense of being interconnected, of being part of our city the way we're part of our family, then we'll develop kindness and loving care for all the people in our city, and we'll have many opportunities to practice.

Living in the city, we end up encountering many people every day. Sometimes just smiling at someone or holding a door open can be a practice of loving-kindness. On the bus, we can give our seat to an elderly person. If we take a taxi or pick up our clothes from the laundry, there's always a way to extend warmth somehow. There are many homeless people living on the streets. Sometimes some of them sit with a hat or a cup in front of them asking for money. Sometimes they hold signs that read “I'm hungry, can you help me?” Sometimes they're friendly, and other times they seem distant and depressed. They usually carry bags with their belongings. It seems to matter greatly when someone takes the time to simply notice that they're there.

When we have a family, we never get a paycheck and think, “I'm going to spend all of this on myself!” We always think of our family, the rent, groceries, the children's school. Knowing our family depends on us, it's gratifying to see how our support benefits their lives. We never feel that family members owe us something, and we never question why we're supporting them. A sense of responsibility sustains us, and so we feel motivated to continue.

Now, I'm not suggesting we go around opening our doors and inviting everyone in. Maybe that's not very realistic. People are complicated; it's not always easy to help them. Still, there are small ways we can extend warmth, small gestures that bring real meaning to our lives and the lives of others. By participating this way, we help shape our city, our state, our world. If we adopt all the people in our city as our family, anything we can do for them brings us satisfaction.

Mothers and fathers find so much joy in doing things for their children. They don't truly separate from them. If their children are happy, that's also their own happiness, pure joy. It can be the same with our adopted “urban family.” In a family, each person may have their own needs. There are always some members who need more help, who might be ill or going through a difficult time, and there are also always those who have an easier time supporting themselves or better luck with what they want to do. We try everything to help everyone, to have equanimous care toward all.

Of course, when we approach someone who is homeless, living on the street, we never know what to expect. Some may appreciate when we try to offer something, and some might even want to give us something in return, an apple or directions, which can give them a sense of dignity and a chance for them to be generous too. But because they live marginalized, homeless people often don't express themselves in ways we feel comfortable with. Some seem angry and unreachable. Some curl up in a corner, wrapped in blankets. Others might show us their middle finger and tell us to leave. These are their ways of surviving, so we need to respect them. Whatever their actions, we can always extend kindness to them by genuinely wishing them well, hoping they stay warm and find enough food. This powerful method of extending care to all works to wear away our own indifference and bias.

Usually our principles guide us in a positive direction, but some principles can limit us. For example, we might feel that people should look for a job instead of asking for money. We might worry that if we give money to someone who asks, they might use it to buy drugs or alcohol. We might feel that offering money to those in need is condescending, or we might feel it's a shallow and insignificant solution to a much deeper social problem, one that needs to be addressed in a much broader way. Sometimes we might feel so overwhelmed by the suffering around us that we decide it's pointless to try to do anything. Or we might feel it's too much trouble to search for change in our wallet and that it will attract too much attention.

But when someone literally asks for our help, how can we ignore their request when we have the means to help? Addicts need to eat. If we're worried about giving them money, we can offer food or blankets instead. They have a body and feel the warmth of the sun and the wet of rain on their skin. We should appreciate every opportunity to respond to these requests, because it's far better than walking around thinking only of ourselves all day.

It's very important that the heart respond when there's an opportunity, that we be moved to care instead of remaining so fixed within our own minds. If we're not able to recognize opportunities to help people in need, we're the ones who suffer the greatest loss. Small gestures of kindness transform us; they show us the best part of our mind and connect us to others in the best way possible.

What does it truly mean to change the world? If we look around, there's always something we can do.