Ok so I’m on the bus on my way to work, not feeling particularly sociable since I had recently been conned by a professional beggar woman (Long story). When this real legitimate looking deep in the forest of the jungle, so rough around the edges that inside can’t be smooth, Rasta man comes on to the bus. From Clark’s hill to All Saint’s proper, he has one of those loud, obnoxious, expletive filled, phone conversations that forces everyone on the bus to grind their teeth against the distraction from their own internal struggle. The lady next to me was seething.
But we stop at a preschool and the driver is about to drive off leaving the child at the side of the road to fend for himself, when the self same Rasta stops the bus and says:
*shameface* for judging the book by it’s cover, but *happy face* as my faith in humanity stirs in my chest.
It’s one of those times when I have to remind myself that people are so much deeper than the little moments I see of them. For this guy it was him being upset at someone over the phone on his morning commute. For others it’s one of those days when a smile is the hardest thing to bring into the world. I am reminded that everyone is deeper than that, and everyone deserves a deeper look, or at least not to be judged on a momentary impression.
It’s what I want to give to others, it’s what I want for myself.