Hey everyone,
This is my first real weekend.
I know that sounds strange—especially since people might say, "What are you talking about? You just started working." But for someone who's been homeless, every day is the same in the sense that every day involves being in a constant state of heightened awareness. Survival mode. You're always on.
Even when you have a room booked for a week, you're still thinking about tomorrow. You're thinking about the end of the week, which feels like tomorrow. You're always dealing with checkout time. You're always dealing with all the things that come with living in a hotel while homeless.
And on top of that, everything—eating, shelter, survival—depends on other people. Friends. Family. Random strangers. Shelters. Donations.
It's not normal life. Your body recognizes that and responds accordingly.
THE CONSTANT STATE OF TOMORROW
I honestly don't even remember the last time I had a weekend where both Saturday and Sunday were just... mine. Where I could stop. Where I didn't have to be constantly planning, constantly aware, constantly in motion.
I don't even know if I know how to stop.
But for that reason—that reason alone—I'm doing my best to use my weekends differently now. Especially this weekend, my first one.
I'm trying to just... be.
Not be anxious about the future. Not be in constant planning mode. Just be.
And honestly? It feels good. It's been so long since I've been able to feel like this.
WHY THIS FEELS DIFFERENT
Even when I had rooms before—when other people were paying for them in previous situations—it didn't feel like this.
But now, being housed through the St. Paul de Vincent Rapid Rehousing Program (funded by donors and grants), it's different. It doesn't have the same weight. The same stress. The same crushing feeling.
When you know you're staying somewhere because of a program designed to help you rebuild, rather than depending on the immediate generosity of individuals scrambling to keep you off the streets... it just doesn't create the same feeling.
There's a lightness I haven't felt in years.
TO EVERYONE WHO'S SUPPORTED ME
I realized I still haven't written proper thank you letters to everyone.
I may not have said thank you to every single person who donated or sent me money here and there. And I really do apologize if I've ever forgotten or overlooked somebody—if I didn't respond or just failed to say anything at all.
Know that I really, really appreciate it.
When I say I'm grateful, I mean: thank you. I owe you my life.
I couldn't put a dollar value on it, but you used your dollars to help me. What I'm saying is—it means more than you know. I don't take it for granted. I really don't.
Whether it's giving me a couple of dollars or giving me $500—every single dollar has mattered.
In a lot of cases, you guys have:
Saved my life
Kept me from being in dangerous situations
Got me out of dangerous situations
Gotten me here
I will forever be grateful.
And I hope that as life progresses, I'm able to be productive and purposeful in a way that—hopefully one day—I'll be able to show you that gratitude in action.
LEARNING TO JUST BE
So this weekend, I'm practicing something I haven't done in five years.
I'm not counting things like washing clothes or cleaning as "work." I'm trying to let myself have actual rest. Actual stillness. Actual weekends.
It's harder than it sounds when your nervous system has been in fight-or-flight mode for half a decade.
But I'm trying.
And that, in itself, feels like freedom.
P.S. - BIG NEWS! 🎉
I almost forgot to mention—I successfully graduated and passed my final exam! I'm officially out of training and entering into nesting this coming Monday. I have to do a certification on Monday, and then I'll be in nesting for the rest of the week. Probably until the following week, a couple of days before I go on the floor.
One more milestone. One step closer.
Thank you for being part of this journey. Thank you for keeping me alive. Thank you for getting me here.
Your support—whether it's a coffee here, sharing my posts, or just reading—means everything.
With deep gratitude,
SHAMAN traie (Adontai M.)
Digital shaman, writer, and spiritual practitioner rebuilding life after five years of homelessness ✨
If this one stayed with you, you might also like:
When the Hotel Becomes Home: Threshold Magic and Housing Justice