by Jack Bragen
Where I live it is expected—if not outright required—that tenants do not bring strangers into the building. This precaution adds to our safety, and it helps the owners of the building prevent mishaps, such as fire or flooding. Damage means money spent. But from the tenants’ perspective, damage to the building or to innocent bystanders could bring bigger consequences: eviction leading to displacement to the street or worse.
The people trying to get in the building are often less fortunate than the tenants, who are already low-income. I cannot make assumptions as to how this became the case. I don’t know the individual stories of how people became homeless, but I understand their fear.
On a rainy night, there are probably a lot of unhoused people who would love to get indoors and dry off. If I go downstairs to get my nighttime smoke, doubtless I will encounter some of these desperate souls. Then I am in a position of not letting in a person who is otherwise stuck in pouring rain. If I do, I might be doing the right and compassionate thing. Yet, if I get nailed for it, I could lose my housing. It’s a difficult position to be in. Sometimes I forgo my nighttime smoke to prevent such an encounter altogether.
A Zen riddle, also called a “koan,” echoes this dilemma. It involves a man hanging from a tree by his teeth, who is asked how to get to the Zen temple. When the man dangling by his teeth opens his mouth to answer, he falls to the ground and to his death. When played out, the answer is rather humorous.
Even Zen practitioners aren’t immune to the human condition: They too must enact self-protective measures when they meditate together. Additionally, those who meditate usually have methods to protect themselves from violence. At a Zen temple I visited, a sign said the premises were monitored by closed circuit video.
These days, bringing up the word “compassion” opens a person up to all kinds of ridicule, as a holdover from the 1980s spirituality movement or just a foolish and antiquated practice. But Buddhists do have a history of compassion and helping, as well as a socially conscious ethic.
When we see someone in need, sometimes we are faced with a difficult choice. Do we try to help someone who possibly cannot be helped? When we try to help such a person, do they pull us down into a figurative pit of alligators and snakes along with them? Thinking of that might make you think twice before lending a hand.
Sometimes, I face a dilemma about sharing smokes.
The other day when I was in my car smoking, a passerby asked me for a smoke. Of course, giving someone a smoke isn’t rescuing them, but I wasn’t going to say no. She asked how I was doing, and I said, “hanging in there,” and she responded kindly. And I usually give out a free smoke unless the person asking for one adds extra baggage to that request.
For example, I have been approached by people trying to give me cash for a few of my smokes, and the mere thought gets me riled. That is an example of a criminal agenda in which someone is trying to pull me into their drug trafficking. Or even if it is merely handing me cash, which is unlikely, the interaction isn’t clean. Additionally, if that person seems even remotely underage, there’s no way I’m giving them one.
The dilemma of helping is a compromise. If it’s not, you might be doing something wrong. I’m not going to jeopardize myself by being a goodie-goodie helper. But if I can do something for someone in need, and it doesn’t harm me, I’m inclined to help when asked for it.
A person who gives away anything and everything asked for will not last for very long. At the same time, a person who never gives will become known as being an ass.
Sometimes it’s a judgment call. A person might be better off without my help. Or a person could be so far gone that it is not feasible to help them. Or I might get a bad vibe from the person or from the situation. These are all valid reasons to get some distance and protect myself.
Jack Bragen lives and writes in Martinez, California. He is also the author of Instructions for Dealing with Schizophrenia: A Self-Help Manual and other books.
