I have graduated from the University of Skid Row. I have completed the curriculum of this curious college, a course of study that requires the students to learn about winning battles with themselves. It took a long time for me to figure out the vital nature of that challenge.
Let me tell you how I managed to complete the requisite coursework in Skid Row.
I knew that I would have to remain focused on goals. I soon learned that my focus had to remain on internal discipline before any external accomplishments that might carry me like magic back to my former place in life.
I began to concentrate on how to focus — I had to learn it as a skill.
The job was easy at first. I had to survive on Skid Row. I had to survive the shock of where I had landed. I had to deal with the tremendous emotional adjustments and demands of being alone in a place from any family. I had to accept my new station on life's bottom rungs.
For most people, that initial stage means that they try to stay away from drugs and a return to jail. That didn't concern me. I was focused on ways to avoid falling into an institutionalized mentality.
I had nothing — yet I decided to seek nothing that I didn't absolutely need. I had five cents in my pocket when I arrived at the Transition House on Crocker Street. I was given a pair of socks and a toothbrush.
I wanted no more.
Many individuals arrive to Skid Row from jail, and the first thing they do is engage themselves in the mentality of "being given things." It is a form of institutionalized thinking. Most are not strangers to the welfare system. It continues in jail for many. They are given clothes and told what to do in jail. It becomes their socialization process.
I noticed that new arrivals on Skid Row typically registered for general relief. Then they went and purchased phones to communicate with the outside world. It quickly became clear to me that they were focused on establishing contact with others instead of getting in touch with themselves. Those others often put them in contact with drugs. A return trip to jail followed, in many cases. The cycle went on in those cases.
I decided that I would not focus on staying away from drugs. I would focus on staying away from people. I contacted no one. I made sure I got in touch with myself. I did not want trinkets. I wanted to build a winning attitude. I washed my clothes in the sink for two months until I collected enough cans to wash them in a machine.
Those are the subtle things that make the difference. Each step of the way it became imperative that I understood those subtleties, because that is what determined my success.
I focused on the process of each stage rather than getting out of that stage. In mastering the process I learned how to master myself, and each step of the way it became easier to understand what I had to do to create a system for the sort of thinking that would sustain me and elevate me to the next step.
At first I had trouble keeping my focus. I looked at the mountain I had to climb and became overwhelmed and discouraged. So I learned to focus on the process of climbing the mountain — one foot in front of the other. I began to see the progress with each step when I focused on what was in front of me.
The more I did so, the easier it became to identify the sources of my emotional disequilibrium. That allowed me to make the appropriate adjustments and get back on track, emotionally.
I acquired the skill to focus.
I never before realized that focusing is a skill in itself.
I do now.
I'll focus more on this new phase of my life — and how I got here — next week.
Walter Melton is a writer for the L.A. Garment & Citizen.
Visit Walter Melton's blog at www.scribeskidrow.blogspot.com.
Collage by LA Beez
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