A Meditating Homeless Man

There is a man I call Robert, simply because he looks like a Robert. The name means “shining like God.” Coincidentally, my cousin—who long ago lost his way—is also named Robert. Are they perhaps one and the same? Or are we all, in some mysterious sense, one body and mind?

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About a year ago, Robert began pacing up and down my street, which stretches for a kilometre. I never learned where he came from, nor where he planned to go. Five weeks ago—maybe longer, since I was abroad—he stopped walking and started living at the bus stop. No matter the hour, early morning or late night, Robert just sits there. I even went to the police to report that he was no longer moving, wondering if he might be in pain and need help. They told me he still walks sometimes and that they had tried to speak with him, but he refused assistance.

When I pass by, I notice he drinks only water. His four bags are arranged as neatly as furniture: everything packed and aligned. There is no alcohol in sight. I don’t know where he bathes or relieves himself. Parts of the bus stop smell unpleasant, but that could be from weekend revellers; my city is lively at night. Compared with other people living on the street, Robert feels different, yet I’ve never felt I could simply approach and talk to him.

Once, I meant to give him a small pillow. I washed its cover, but before I could deliver it, the pillow itself vanished—as if I were not meant to disturb him.

Last week, I couldn’t sleep and took a late walk around the city. Returning after ten, I had to cross my wide street. In the darkness, I sensed Robert sitting there, perfectly still, as if meditating. I wondered: Is Robert a practitioner of the Dharma? Has he chosen this unusual path to move deep inside, to sift through his memories and heal old wounds? What hardship drove him here? What shock leaves a person living like this, yet unwilling to change? And then I ask myself: How much does Robert share with my cousin? What if Robert is not merely homeless, but a spiritual seeker following a discipline of his own? Perhaps his silent vigil is its own kind of shining.

#homeless #meditation #dharma