sunshine and social commodity.

This week, Chris Martin from Coldplay visited the Bowery Mission. In case you don't know, the Bowery is a shelter as well as a transformational program for men and women to move out of homelessness. There's so much I could write about what happened, but truly my favorite part was just the simple humanity of it all.

The Bowery Mission is the great equalizer of life.

I have the honor of working with all sorts of people, from all walks of life. Believe it or not, there is not a type for those experiencing homelessness. It can affect anybody, at any time. And when someone like Chris Martin walks through the door, this doesn't shift. People remain who they are, where they are.

But there's an exchange that takes place when people gather in this manner, a collaboration of spirits that cannot be labeled by fame or power. There is no helper and helped, there is no us and them.

It's just love, given and received without a price.

The only expectation is that you bring yourself, as you are.

You see, when Chris came, he brought with him everything he was, in as simple a way as possible. But because of who he was, with his music and his words and his connection to the world, he brought many people joy.

And the people in the community, those experiencing homelessness, they brought everything they were, in as simple a way as possible. They brought their history and their hard earned wisdom, their faith and their hope.

And they brought Chris Martin joy.

They each had social commodity that they could sell but they chose to lend it instead.

In a world where people are trying to get ahead and money rules the market, we forget that some of the most influential moments in life happen because someone decided to lend out their social commodity.

Someone decided to share the gift of connection, and it didn't matter if that person was more or less, what mattered is that they became equal.

Equal in compassion, equal in friendship.

Equal in joy.

I think sometimes we become fearful of connection, either because we feel we have nothing to give or because we don't want to spend everything we have. We don't want to lose our commodity, we don't want to come up broke.

But the truth is that the more you spend the more you receive. This is the oldest wisdom in the book. It doesn't matter how much money you have, or how many people you know--if you are alone, you are broke.

And if you hoard your social commodity, it will turn up tarnished and rusty and diminished in its beauty.

Our lives are richer when we share what we have, whatever it is. It's hard and it can be uncomfortable and it may even be out of our usual routine.

But when we do, it can change everything.

It can take people coming from an experience of homelessness and place them next to one of the most influential and well-known musicians in the world.

And it can take one of the most influential and well-known musicians in the world and put them right in the middle of a shelter.

And this moment, it doesn't matter if you are from the hills or the valleys, we are all on level plane.

The same sun shining out of our souls.

And this is what it means to be alive.

This is what brings us meaning and purpose and....

Joy.

Our worlds get a little brighter.

And a little bigger.

And our hearts do the same.

So.

In this new year, if you have a chance to spread your social commodity only a bit farther...

Just do it.

You won't regret it.

And I think you'll find that the more you give the more you can receive.

Add a little more value to the world.

We need your sunshine yet.

suffering and common denominators.

Life is mostly pain, and what you decide to do with it. There are some other things mixed in too, love...sometimes hope. But mostly, we suffer. It's the great common denominator of life.

Suffering.

You may not experience it as strongly or intensely as the next person, but it's there. I don't know what form your pain takes or how exactly it impacts you, it's different for everyone. Pain is personal like that. I remember my first supervisor telling me that you can't measure people's pain, that it can't be quantified because what's painful for you may not be as painful for him or her or them. But it's theirs nonetheless, and it weighs just as heavily as yours, even if you don't understand it.

Someone recently asked me why there is suffering in the world. The question was really a round about statement, laced with bitterness and a sense of "what's the point". And truly, this is a question for the ages. We have all sat, numb and listless, staring into the vast, emptiness of sorrow wondering how in the hell we ended up here. Wondering, if life was really worth it after all.

After all the let downs.

After all the injustice.

After all the sickness.

After all the death.

Is it still worthwhile?

Still possible to maintain?

Still meaningful? 

Can we endure the suffering and reach for hope, no matter how excruciating it may be?

I think this is the question.

For some people, their heartbreak will always be there.

There are some wounds this side of heaven that will never be whole.

But there is also infinite joy.

Not necessarily happiness, because we all know happiness is fleeting. But a deep sense of pride, an experience of unbridled joy that comes in the form of emotion, gift wrapped in moments that can never be taken away. This is the gold of life, sacred and priceless and nonexchangeable.

And if you think about it, our days are sort of like an equation. Things get added and things get taken away, and we are just trying to make it to a hundred percent. But what if a perfect score was not the goal? What if it didn't matter what the answer was, as long as it wasn't zero?

Here's the truth.

Life will make subtractions, big and small and anywhere in-between. And that's OK. Suffering is a part of life. I'm not sure that there is an answer for why suffering is that would satisfy my weary heart and erase the aftermath of pure, unfiltered pain. Pain may not have an answer, but it does ask a question:

What are you going to do about it?

Because the only thing to really do is to keep adding more to your life.

More joy, more hope, more love, more laughter. So that when subtractions come knocking on our door, our reserve is ready and in place and able to keep us afloat. It is far too easy to let our numbers slip into the negatives, to close ourselves off to the sweet, stickiness of life.

We are so afraid.

Afraid to add on more, because what if.

Let me tell you, that what if is never going to go away. Life will always be scary, messy, vulnerable in every possible way.

But we cannot give up.

We cannot let darkness win!!!

Numbers are INFINITE.

They can go on forever and ever, as long as we keep adding more to our equation.

Which means that even if you enter into the negatives, it's OK because there's always a way to go up from there. Keep holding on--it takes as long as it takes and will come to you when you're ready.

But the only real way to lose is if we stop living all together.

If we stop feeling.

Tempting though it may be, it is not the answer.

So, can you manage the pain?

Can you bear it enough to push your way through it?

Some days it will be easier than others.

It's not a contest.

And remember, it's personal.

But you can do it.

You can get through this.

It may be more painful than you could ever imagine.

And you may be burdened beyond recognition.

But your purpose is infinite. 

And your suffering matters.

So let it matter for good.

Let it change you, grow you into a person that appreciates more, settles for less.

Just don't let it harden you.

C.S. Lewis once said, "The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell."

Don't create your own personal hell. 

That's the devil's job.

Don't beat him to it.

Let your pain have purpose.

Stop trying so hard to avoid it.

Go through it.

You aren't alone.

Pain is the common denominator.

And you don't have to solve for x!

Because the answer is yours, and yours alone.

But not yours alone to carry.

So go on.

Head towards infinity. 

I pray that hope will meet you there.

And that one day, you can add it on to someone else's equation.