This past weekend I was in Denver to present Heavell’s strategies for the prevention of drug and alcohol use by kids at the GlobalMindEd convention. It was an opportunity to meet a variety of people who had come together to learn and strategies on a multitude of serious issues in this country as well as the world. I met every day people who are warriors in their communities as they fight to solve issues while facing their own personal dilemmas. I also had the opportunity to learn some things about myself through the hard work of a couple of instructors who challenged me to think out of my circle of heavell in order to see individual stories rather than just the similarities between us. I met and spent time with a few young men who live on the streets of Denver as well as a young woman whose whole family are addicts. Each and every single person I met imparted something to me that was important about them although they probably did not realize the affect they had on me. I also think that each one of them was surprised to learn why I was there. Although we are aware that addiction affects a lot of people in some way, we still have the idea that there are people who live the life of heaven, the green truth, when the real truth is we all live in heaven and hell on any given day or even any given moment; sometimes in secret.

On the shuttle ride to the hotel, there was a woman who was traveling with her family from Houston, Texas. She was attending the same conference as I was. Through her story, I learned that there are people in Houston who are still struggling to survive and are still homeless from the hurricane that hit there almost a year ago. The green truth was that I had assumed everyone was fine. The real truth is that despite the rally of this country to help the victims of that devastating storm, there are still people who are living in a trauma that is keeping them in a hopeless hell; they are fractured. As we have moved from one catastrophic event to another and yet another, those people have been forgotten. That woman is a warrior who has taken that adversity to heart and is fighting for her community to be seen. When we crossed paths a couple of days later at the convention, she asked me if I remembered her from our shared shuttle ride. She was completely unaware that it is I that will never forget her nor her determination to lead her community out of hell. She is an every day person who in actuality is an unsung hero. I am honored to have been remembered by her.

I met a homeless young man the first night that I was there whose name is Thomas. I was standing outside trying to decide if I was hungry and if so, was I going to get something to eat. He was a polite and soft spoken person as well as seeming to be very stressed. After listening to him for a few minutes about his day, I mentioned that I needed to get something to eat. He proceeded to tell me how to take the bus to go to a variety of places where the cost was reasonable for a decent meal. I smiled as I told him that under no circumstances was I going to ride the bus anywhere after already having traveled to his city. I told him to come with me and we would find a place to eat where he could tell me his story. Just down the street was a MacDonald’s that encourages its diners to enjoy their meal in 30 minutes or less. Despite having been told to order what he wanted, Thomas chose just two MacDouble hamburgers and a small drink. In between bites and prayers, he spoke about his life. I was struck by his need to be okay with being on the streets while being in pain that he was on the streets. He has not spoken to his family in what he thought was three or four months. He is a former addict that appeared to be sober although he also seemed to have issues with his mental health. After explaining why I was there, he expressed sorrow that drugs had affected my son as well as my life. He then proceeded to say a prayer for both Ryan and I. Over the couple of days that I spoke with him, he continually reminded me to be safe as well as encouraged me to never give up on my son. When I asked Thomas what he would say to the world if he was given the opportunity to speak, he told me that he “Just Wanted To Be Remembered”.  Thomas is an every day person who is fighting to survive homelessness, addiction, and the ability to eat every day while living with a perception of reality that makes those things even more challenging. I missed seeing him on my last day in Denver so I can only hope that he will eventually reach out to get the mental health help that he needs. Despite his parts of hell that have become the sole definition of him,  his ability to empathize makes him completely memorable; at the very least for me.

The next person was this energetic young woman who lives in Denver and was attending the conference. She is a college student who is looking to change how doctors communicate with patients in order to improve the patients’ understanding about their health and their control of it. After I introduced myself, she then briefly shared her hell with me. With a grin on her face she let me know that her parents, as well as the rest of her family, are all addicts. The vulnerability of showing someone a part of ourselves, that we have developed the coping skill to hide, is traumatic in itself. She shrugged her shoulders as she stated she had learned to accept it. I wish her beautiful smile had matched the look in her eyes but it did not. For a brief moment the little girl, who had wanted the sober parents that showed up for daily life as well as those school events, appeared and then almost as quickly disappeared. We talked a little longer about her future and then as she turned from me, I reminded her that we are all made up of parts of heaven and hell. If we hide parts of us rather than work on them, we will remain fractured. She is memorable for her determination to get out of hell while still being chained to it. I hope at her college graduation that someone yells her name so loud that the whole arena hears it but especially that she does.

Then there was the young man who I stood talking to while he sat on the sidewalk holding a cup out for change. He was a nice looking young man who had trouble articulating his thoughts. I am fairly sure that he was high but mental health or a brain injury could have been playing a role as well. When I asked him if he was from Denver, he replied that he was from Chicago. He then told me that he had come with his brother on a vacation. I asked where his brother was and his reply was that he had returned to Chicago because he had to get back. I asked if his family knew where he was at which he just shrugged his shoulders. Our conversation was limited due to his state and as I turned away I told him to hang in there. He is memorable because addiction, mental illness, family pain, trauma, as well as hell do not discriminate. If you are fractured, the door is open to following others or using drugs or whatever you have to in order to cope. I will remember him because he easily could have been my son.

The final young man is named Joshua. He approached me and asked if I could afford to buy him some food. I told him that I could and we headed off to that 30 minutes or less MacDonald’s. I requested that he tell me his story and he told me that words do not change anything. He was very articulate while speaking with a conviction that was colored with his pain. He was a foster child who had aged out of the system when he turned 18 years old after having been passed from home to home. Frustration flashed at times as he spoke and a few tears. I asked him what would he tell the world and he said “To Please Just Give Me A Chance”. He talked about a few of the things that have happened to him while he was in foster care as well as on the streets. As he was speaking I noticed that on the inside of one of his arms there was a healed wound that started at his wrist and was about 3 inches long. When I asked him about it, he told me that he had attempted suicide a few months before. He works as a day laborer during the week but on the weekends that job is not available so he goes without eating. He is an every day person fighting to survive homelessness and the weight of isolation that comes with living that way. He also requested only two MacDouble hamburgers and a small drink stating that he never takes more than he needs. The encounter with Joshua left me the most unsettled because instead of wondering if his parents were worried about him, I wondered how it was possible that there was no one who cared about this kid. Joshua is memorable because on a street filled with people, he sees everyone despite only being seen by a few. I hope that someone will give him the chance that he needs so that he may break his chain in hell.

We are all perfectly, irritatingly, messy people living in a circle of heavell while being a circle of heavell. Our ability to cope, to face adversity, is the determiner for whether we spend more time in hell or heaven. If we only show or acknowledge our heaven while keeping our hell hidden, we will remain fractured; because a whole is a sum of all parts not just some of the parts. To all the people I met in Denver, THANK YOU. Your stories may not be unique but you are because no one else has your parts that have been created by your personal emotional definitions affected by your circles of heavell. To the man who spent his free time from his convention handing out food to the homeless as well as their pets, you are an every day unsung hero. To Joshua: You matter in this world and some day this will change for you. Remember to continue to see everyone even when you are no longer fighting to be seen because that is your gift in this world.