The Shouting Beggar Man

Once, when I was in Basel, Switzerland on business, I was sitting outside at a little café located in front of the Hotel Victoria and across the street from the Basel train station drinking a cappuccino. It was a warm, sunny Saturday afternoon, and the streets were filled with people rushing about conducting their afternoon shopping. What I like most about Basel, and Switzerland in particular, is that it’s rich in cultural diversity. There are always people milling around from every country and cultural background imaginable, and the air is perpetually filled with the music of multiple different languages being spoken.

            This little café happens to be situated at a perfect point between the train station and the central trams, so it’s a wonderful place to sit back, relax, and people-watch. Lovers stroll by holding hands, women rush by, pushing their children’s strollers at a half-walk / half-run pace attempting to catch the Number 10 tram before the doors close, taxi drivers stand next to their cars, smoking a cigarette, and wait for their next fare. There are businessmen in suits carrying their briefcases, and elderly people shuffling along with the help of a cane or a walker. Teenage girls saunter by in groups of three or more, whispering to each other in conspiratorial tones, and the obvious tourists move about in dream-like states, taking pictures and sometimes slowly spinning in complete circles as they take in their surroundings.  

The entrance of the train station is normally always full of activity, with people entering and leaving the main doors, reminding me of bees in a hive. Some struggle to manage large suitcases, if they happen to be leaving on or returning from a trip, and others are entering the train station only to purchase a deli sandwich from the Migros counter.

Outside the train station and along the front of the building are a series of stone benches, where often the homeless and various other individuals who are less than fortunate congregate, sometimes alone but more often in small groups. There are men who sit together, smoking cigarettes and drinking from bottles wrapped in paper bags, and others who sit alone on the ground with their worldly belongings, contained in duffel bags, arranged around them in a protective circle.

On this particular day I noticed a rather tall man pacing back and forth, talking to himself, and ignoring the occupants of the benches. He wasn’t entirely unkempt; his clothes appeared worn yet clean, and he could have used a haircut, but from my view point from the café he didn’t appear homeless. I watched as an elderly woman walked by him, and he immediately stopped his pacing and started walking next to her, keeping stride, while turning his head to face her, talking to her. She ignored him, kept her gaze straight ahead, and kept on walking. He stayed with her, his voice getting louder and louder to the point he was almost shouting at her, until she stopped, opened her purse, and handed him money.

I understood at that point that he was begging for money, and his tactic was to keep getting louder and louder until the elderly woman finally caved and gave him money. Once she gave him money, he immediately was silent and turned around and walked away in the opposite direction. I watched with fascination as he did it again and again, targeting women but not men, and each time his ‘victim’ finally gave in once it seemed that they had reached the breaking point of embarrassment for how loudly he was drawing attention to them and the situation. So basically, they paid him to shut up and leave them alone. He had a brilliant tactic to get what he wanted.

Later that evening, after dinner and when I was back in my hotel room, I thought again about the shouting beggar man and his infallible tactics. Curiously, I couldn’t get him off my mind, and because I know that the Universe often illustrates lessons or messages for us in various forms, including situations that we may witness, I tried to go a little deeper with my line of thinking about the beggar man and the message I could ascertain from the scene he caused earlier in the day. And then it dawned on me; how many times have I given into something that I wasn’t comfortable with in an effort to placate someone or something else? Who in my life, past or present, represents the shouting beggar man? Who has walked beside me, slowly turning up the heat of manipulation in an effort to get me to do something or give something away, whether it was money, sex, my time, or my participation in an activity that I really didn’t want to give away or engage in, but I didn’t want to appear unkind or uncooperative. In what life situations did I give a piece of myself away in order to stop the pressure I was receiving from that particular person? And, how did I feel after I gave a precious piece of myself away? Did I feel fulfilled and satisfied, or did I feel anxious and worried, knowing deep down inside that I really wasn’t comfortable with the whole situation, but I simply brushed those feelings under the proverbial rug and made excuses for myself and the other person?

Several weeks later I was talking on the phone with my friend Susan, telling her about the shouting beggar man and his tactics I had witnessed. After patiently listening until I finished my story, she asked, “What would have happened if one of those women would have faced him directly and shouted ‘Stop!’?” I had to think about that for a moment. Perhaps he would have been shocked at the confrontation, turned around and walked away. Or maybe it would have escalated the situation, I’m not sure. But it got me thinking about my participation in situations like this, and if I really want to make positive changes in my life, I need to be mindful about taking care of myself, stop giving pieces of myself away, and start creating healthy boundaries. But where to start?

My friend Laurie has a direct, no-nonsense approach for boundaries. For her, things fall into one of two categories: Hell Yes or No. If she’s asked to give something or to participate in something, and she can’t answer with a resounding “Hell Yes!”, then for her the answer must be “No”. I like it. It’s simple, direct, and it’s an easy way for her to honor her feelings and reinforce her boundaries.

After thinking about Laurie’s fool-proof way of protecting her time, her energy and her interests, I decided to adopt this approach. My life lesson is this: I’ll no longer let anyone or any situation coerce me into doing something or giving something that makes me feel uncomfortable in any way. If I can’t answer or commit with a resounding ‘Hell Yes!’, then the answer has to be ‘No’. My promise to myself is that I too will honor my feelings, and my boundaries. I’ll better protect my time, my interests, and my energy simply by saying ‘No’ to things that don’t feel right to me.