The Well of Sadness

Finding Light in the Depths of Loss and Displacement

(This was written the day after the November 5, 2024 presidential election where Donald Trump won his second term as president. Many Democrats had been told that he is a fascist and he is going to steal Democracy and go after “the enemy within” which are his political rivals and possibly their supporters.)

I have been trying to think about what my lowest point in my homeless journey has been.

It’s honestly such a long and deep history of failure and disappointment that it’s really hard to choose from. But I keep coming back to one particular Sunday morning.

My friend Hermaine had been shot and murdered on my property a couple of weeks earlier.

This is a picture he and I took in April of the year he died:

He and I would talk often about how he had done a lot of bad things in the world and now he wanted to start doing some good things. He wanted to start a breakfast for local kids.

Like so many things, I put it off. I’m “busy.” I have other “more urgent” things to do. Kids aren’t “my thing.”

And then, on August 3, 2023, he was shot dead in an area I spent so much time. It was right where we sheltered 70 people in tents.

Here’s a picture of that exact location before the city forced us to stop sheltering those people:

It’s a ground of loss and death. In my dark times it is a place of nearly unbearable sadness for me.

Not long after Hermaine’s death, the city condemned our house. Drug dealers had taken it over and neither I or the police could get them out. So, they decided the best solution was to condemn it.

As I’m living in this profound moment of sadness, I drive up to the dumpster of donuts I go to every Sunday morning to get donuts for our church service. They had locked it shut. I had nothing to bring to my friends for that Sunday morning.

I just can’t think of a lower time in my life. The only option I could see in front of me was suicide. I was truly out of all other options.

Of course, that was not true. That was well over a year ago now and I don’t feel that way at all. I have plenty of options. I just couldn’t see them at the time.

I guess that’s all I wanted to say to you today. If you are sad today, maybe you don’t see any path forward. But I assure you, there is always a path forward. You just have to give it a minute.

I also want to say to you that whatever thoughts, feelings or ideas you have are completely normal and good.

I am not one to tell someone how to feel or act.

When I was in Japan I learned about Nindo.

Nindo (Literally meaning: Ninja Way) is a personal rule that each shinobi lives by. It is their way of ninja life, their motto, belief, or “dream”. A ninja’s nindo can be anything, no matter how immoral their personal point of view is.

I also am reminded about the teaching of Dharma in the Bhagavad Gita.

Krishna emphasizes the importance of fulfilling one’s duty, or dharma, in life. He explains that every individual has a specific role and set of responsibilities. For Arjuna, his duty as a warrior (Kshatriya) is to fight to uphold justice, even if it is difficult. Through this lens, Krishna teaches that one’s duty should be carried out without attachment to personal gain or fear of loss.

I don’t believe in society telling you how you should live. Society is a false construct that is motivated by its own selfish values.

You must be true to yourself and your spirit. I believe that more than anything else. No matter how hard it is, no matter how it may go against the grain of society, we must all strive to listen to this inner voice.

For me, right now, that means practicing sadness.

I have recently found that anger is my protective barrier to an underlying sadness. I am sad about so many things. I am sad about the way we treat each other. I’m sad about the way we treat our planet. I’m sad about how out of touch we are to our own feelings. I find new things to be sad about every day.

It’s a dark place to be. But it’s not depression. It feels like a hole, a well, that I’m digging through to get to the light. I believe redemption on Earth is found by going down, not up. We must understand where we have come from, not where we are going.

I think often of the kiva, a central place in Hopi cultural and spiritual life. It’s an underground circular or rectangular structure meant to connect humans with the earth and the ancestors. There is the si’papu, a small hole or indentation in the kiva floor. It symbolizes the Hopi’s mythical place of origin, their point of emergence from the underworld. This grounding feature is essential in rituals that invoke spiritual connection or communicate with the ancestors.

The kiva is where Hopi boys learn about their heritage, their role within their community, and their responsibilities through instruction and participation in sacred ceremonies.

Boys and men. I think that’s where my heart is today. We are not the popular demographic for thinking about DEI. Particularly, White boys and men are seen as the privileged, the blessed.

That is part of the story, for sure. But it’s not the entire story.

This is Tim:

I told him last week that I think he might be the most outsider person I have ever met. It’s not that he doesn’t have friends. He does. He’s kind, funny and thoughtful. Men, women, Black, White, Puerto Rican… he gets along with everyone. But yet he can’t find his place.

He left the Skinheads in prison because he felt like they were just becoming another gang. They had lost sight of their cultural values in exchange for money and drugs. Tim is an idealist, a prison philosopher.

He has been shot in the face with a shotgun. He was recently slammed in the face with a crowbar by another homeless person. He has spent close to 20 years in prison. He mostly just reads in prison. He can’t find a connection.

I think Tim is an extreme example of how many men feel in the world.

Without my wife, I feel completely untethered to the world. I have my wife, my son, and my work. That’s all. I have no interest in anything bigger than that. That’s mostly because I feel like there isn’t really anything much else out there for me in society. I am my work and that is how I am viewed. I’m fine with that. I can’t imagine anything else. But a guy like Tim doesn’t have that. He hasn’t been given the stability to find his work. He can’t find his way in and he is met with resistance at every turn.

A man like Tim could put any tattoo on his knuckles. But he chose: “AMERICAN”. He likes to show it to people often.

I think that’s what Tim feels a connection to: America. And I think a guy like Tim sees it slipping away. It’s changing skin color and values.

I hope it’s not too difficult for you to see how that is what many men feel like.

I’m not asking for a pity party. None of us are. I’m just asking for understanding.

I get it, White men are risky. Some of us own everything. We are physically stronger. We are a threat to every other living thing on the planet. But most White men are closer to Tim than they are to Elon Musk. Much closer. They have very little. And what little they have is slipping away.

I’m living in sadness instead of anger these days because it makes my heart soft. And a soft heart leads to a soft mind. And then I’m able to more easily be open to understanding people who are not me.

It is becoming increasingly difficult for me to be angry at anyone as I spend more and more time understanding their point of view.


This is not meant to inspire you to be like me. In fact, I don’t want you to be like me. I want you to be like you.

If you feel a call to me angry, be angry. If you feel a call to be sad, be sad. Listen to your call, no matter what it is.

My call is simply to tell you about men like Hermaine and Tim. Men who represent a large majority of men in this country that can’t find their place and they feel like the place they once had is slipping away.

I love you,

Sage