I live with two disabilities--rather two SETS of disabilities.  There are my own: bipolar disorder, diabetes, food addiction; and those of my wife: they are several, not the least of which is narcolepsy.  This letter is made all the more difficult because my wife has always been the one in charge of bills, coordinating our life, logistics, etc.  I simply delegated our entire life to her long ago.  Now, that system doesn't work well.  Yet, for various reasons, I can't help her.

Further, there is a physical distance between us because I now work outside the country.  I can only come home sporadically now.  Obviously, this is extremely difficult for my wife and kids.

I have two jobs.  One is as an international executive recruiter (sounds fancy but isn't) and another side project.  I just keep hoping that all will work out fine.  Everything I have divined, through a variety of sources both under my influence and not, tell me that all will be fine: I just need to keep on going.  So, I keep on going.  It is just that my life becomes very dry.  Every moment spent not working seems like theft from the family.  I try to remember that I need to keep myself physically and emotioanlly healthy, and I'm succeeding in that, but still, everything seems pretty bleak sometimes.  We have a pernicious money problem that I have been unable to solve for a long time now.

What does this all have to do with mysticism?  Or, more appropriately, 'wandering mysticism'?  Everything.  The wandering mystic starves just as the typical mystic fasts.  The wandering mystic is blessed with the scourges of family troubles, child issues, money worries, etc.  The desert mystic has more control over his/her circumstances and welcomes fasting and difficulties.  But still, even the most humble mystic's hut suffers from leaks from rains, attacks from the ignorant, etc.

So, I feel in solidarity with the poor. Although I would never claim to suffer as much as the truly poor. 

I realized the other day.  I had taken a "carro" (overgrown mini-bus that poses as public transportation when I am) to a very remote area of this sprawling megalopolis.  It was extremely poor by my standards.  The houses were mostly of unfinished concrete, although there was power and city water---there are many district far more desperate.  And that is when it hit me:  these "poor" are actually doing well by global standards.  They are eating X calories a day, probably more than necessary to survive--no one looked hungry, and they are clean with shelter.  The fact that the area is a sea of concrete and dust is just a relative lack of window dressing.

Then I thought of myself and my issues.  Soon we may be in dire straights.  But we do have family that can shelter us at the least.  90%+ of the world lives day to day--why should I complain to be included in that figure?