It was raining when I finished my meeting with my last client today. I left the coffee shop and made my way to the bus stop, perhaps a five minute walk. There is no shelter or bench at the bus stop to protect from the cold rain that is falling today where I arrived just as the small shuttle bus (or bunny bus) rolled up. The driver, who struck me as a rough mother bear type who wouldn't back down from...anything... told me to get on and enjoy being warm and dry as she went for a quick coffee. This doesn't happen often and I thanked her for her kindness. She replied "Nothing kind about me. I'm a bitch."
I had been relaxing checking my phone for messages, leaving a message and reading comfortably when the driver returned. She started the bus and complained to the other passengers and me about the weather, turned the corner then asked about a homeless man she usually saw on the corner. She wondered out loud if he might be sleeping in the park nearby.
At that moment I was reading an essay by Mexican poet Octavio Paz using rites and beliefs common to Hinduism and Buddhism as a way of explaining about the sacredness of the human self. It suddenly all became real for me and for a blessed brief moment everyone on the bus became sacred to me and I saw that each one of us is like a temple and that each person must be treated with reverence, respect and genuine courtesy.
I got off the bus still feeling bathed in a warm light. When I arrived home in my apartment I still felt the warmth despite the cold rain outside. And now, following supper and a rest I feel these lovely things again and this was all set in motion for me by that bus driver's one small act of kindness.
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