The Lady in the Tent
ON A COLD NOVEMBER NIGHT, a woman crouches in the rain. As I prepare dinner, I see her through the window of my third-story condo. She’s conspicuously alone, with no umbrella. She shouldn’t be there, and yet she is.
Uncannily still, she doesn’t shield her face from the weather. The fragrant aroma of my meal suddenly registers as foul. I need to do something, and I want that “something” to be more than a single gesture of kindness.
I’ve never fully engaged with an individual experiencing homelessness. I’m aware such interactions can be dangerous. Do I possess the necessary skills for this situation? As a psychologist, I serve as a repository for people’s suffering and facilitate their care. But what about engaging with someone outside of a professional setting, particularly when I haven’t been invited to do so?
I’m overthinking this. She requires help, and I’m available to offer it. Buddhism teaches limitless compassion. Can I tap into compassion like that?
Overnight, the woman establishes an encampment. A
