Monday, May 22, 2006


On a bus journey the other day I heard this woman asking a driver what bus to get to a train station. He advised her where to get off. It meant crossing over which the woman wasn't prepared to do. Another passenger advised her to stay on the bus till further down where she could change to another route without needing to cross the road. While the woman was speaking I noticed she had an accent. I wondered whether she was American.

At some point the driver announced he was only going part of the journey. I decided to change and wait for another bus. The woman who I had wondered about got off at the same bus stop. She had a plastic bag over one foot and was limping. She also had a huge suitcase. I asked her if she was OK.

"How long have you been living in London?" she asked.
"A long time, over 25 years," I said. "Why?"
"I've just been asking the driver how to get to Victoria and he didn't have a clue. He can't even speak English properly. I think he's African. Why do they have drivers who can't speak English?"

While I did not share her views I remained silent and let her speak her mind. When our bus arrived she asked me if I could help her with her suitcase. I put her suitcase in the bus and sat across her while she went on about the previous bus driver.

In the meantime, her suitcase fell on a passenger's leg. I rushed to pick up the suitcase and apologised. I asked her if she was alright. She said it wasn't my fault. She blamed the bus company for not providing a suitable space for suitcases. Naturally, when the bus moves about the suitcase is bound to fall and hurt someone.

"This is the third time a suitcase has fallen on this ankle," she said. "My leg is all black and blue now."

Beside me was an elderly gentleman. He told me on his way to get the bus he slipped on someone's skateboard and fell. I asked him if he was alright and he said yes.

The woman with the suitcase said she fell and sprained her ankle recently. That's why she had it covered with a plastic bag. She told me she was born in Canada, lived there till she was 21 years old, then lived in Bermuda for 35 years. She's been living in the UK for four years. She was now moving from London to a town in West Sussex. She told me what life was like in Bermuda. It was also fun speaking to the elderly gentleman who gave his views about life.

It's strange how I met three people who wanted to express their views about life. Maybe they just wanted someone to listen without judgment, to accept them for who they are at that moment. I didn't have to agree with their views, just listen and be in my peace.

Love is acceptance.

Love is also about accepting yourself in every moment. If you need to express something about who you are now, be true to who you are now. In the next moment you might receive further insights which could change your perspective.

When you can accept all that you are, you can accept others, as they are all aspects of self.

I am Acceptance.