In 1969 I was giving a series of lectures in
New York City. Every night, taking the bus up Third Avenue, I got the
same extraordinary bus driver. Every night it was rush hour in one of
the busiest cities in the world, but we had a warm word and a caring
presence for each person who got on the bus.
He drove us as if he were sculling a boat
down a river, flowing through the traffic rather than resisting it.
Everyone who got on the bus was less likely to kick the dog that evening
or to be otherwise hostile and unloving, because of the loving space
that driver had created. Yet all he was doing was driving the bus. He
wasn’t a therapist or a great spiritual teacher. He was simply being
love.
Original Here!
1 comment:
Good post AL.
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