“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.“
—Rumi
One of my dearest friends and I were heading to the Art Institute of Chicago, when we came upon a homeless man who was camped out on the sidewalk up against a corner building on busy Adams St. I had noticed his belongings the day before: a thin, narrow mattress, with a sheet and blanket tucked in, and kitty toys strewn all over it. There was a litter box next to it, a food bowl and a water bowl, and some other personal items. The man was petting a tiny, somewhat emaciated, grey and white kitten who was flattened out in the sun on the sidewalk, and wearing a tiny halter on a leash. She was clearly luxuriating under the gentle attentions of her human. The man was not particularly disheveled, although he’d clearly been living in the open for a time. His clothing appeared to be clean, and he was ponytailed and lightly-bearded, perhaps in his early 40’s. He was completely devoted to his little cat.
I asked him about this interesting arrangement, and he told me that he tidied up every morning at 5:30, and that people were accepting of his being there. He explained that he lived and slept on that corner. He continued to softly stroke his kitten, love palpably radiating off of each of them, and he assured me, “She’s the best thing!”
This served as a teaching for me. I recognized, as I have many times before, that, wherever love arises, a portal to the Divine is opened. It is a common mantra in neuroscience, today, that “Where the attention goes, the energy flows!” The spiritually inclined, seek incessantly for a way to the Ineffable. Yet, any given thing in one’s experience is capable of taking on the sacred bhava, or aspect, of a sacramental which leads one there.