Will Meditate For Food

   One of my first jobs when I moved to Minnesota in 1973 was delivering medical equipment around the St. Paul area. I delivered commodes, wheelchairs, etcetera to private homes and nursing homes. This was the era of the nursing home construction boom. There was big money to be made. The daughters who used to care for their aging parents at home were now in the workforce.
   Nursing home were lightly regulated in those days. When I made my deliveries I was depressed by the line of old people sitting in the corridors, and was overwhelmed by the smell of urine. Things are greatly improved. The state has mandated that the homes provide activities for the residents and ongoing urine smells are not tolerated.
   Back in my youth, I never imagined I would end up as a resident in a nursing home. Since then I've grown more realistic. I've talked to my doctor and he's promised that should I ever go in the home, he'll write an order that I can keep a bottle of brandy under my pillow.
   For the last 17 years of my working career I was the social worker at a small rural nursing home. If you must be in a nursing home, this is the ideal. The workers know the residents personally so there's  lots of accountability and love.
   My biggest insight while working in the home is that when you get really old, it's pleasant to just sit quietly and ruminate. I realized that the reason so many residents passed up the invitation to come out to activities was that no activity could be more fun than the endless movie of your memories.
   I read once that Hindu men after the age of 60 are free from family responsibilities. They become "Forest Dwellers," and do whatever they please. If they choose they can give up everything except a begging bowl. These beggars are considered sacred and people willingly give them food or anything else they need. They wander about growing spiritually as they decline physically.
  How would that work in the U.S.? There are lots of beggars here. There must be money in it or else, like telemarketers, they'd quit doing it. It sounds scary though. These beggars are at risk for being robbed and beaten. For the homeless beggar, the police are there not so much to serve and protect as to roust and remove.
   If I ever decide to become a Forest Dweller I have some ideas to make it work. First, my "Forest" will be the metropolis. I'll find a busy intersection with long red lights. A sturdy carboard sign is the beggar's most important tool. It's the American version of the begging bowl. The top line on my sign will say "Veteran." Everyone's a veteran of something. The next line will say, "Ten percent of my income goes to charity." You must actually give that ten percent to your fellow beggars. Then if anyone tries to mess with you, the beggars on your payroll will put the kibosh on that noise. Get yourself a dog. Yes, it's a drain on your income, but a slobbering pit bull will warn off the bastards in case the beggars on your team have taken the day off. Beggars are not the most reliable people.
   I can see that with all this prep and my willingness to have my fellow man beaten and bitten to keep myself safe, I'm not going to have much time for spiritual growth. Maybe I'll just let my kids put me in the home. "Cue the movie of my life, please."

Wait till they see the sequel.