London

 At the end of another London trip I look back at the memories, sights, experiences and teachings with relish:

Form the train to Richmond I see a large fox sitting on the sloping embankment staring towards the trains and I think of the ability to adapt to one's surroundings. The wild fox adapting to city life and thriving, after all, it really takes something to be able to live in London rent free.

This tame landscape, moulded and shaped by human hand throughout the centuries. Beautiful iconic statues, fountains and buildings on lay lines of great power. Harrods, Fortnam and Mason etc.

The lovely Indian family on the bus to Crouch End. The father answering his daughter's questions with kindness and genuine interest. The mother beaming with love for her child. My heart expanded witnessing such parental love. Again they adapted to being parents and devoting time and energy to their offspring.

In contrast I moved train carriages when a father on the tube was trying to control his toddler through harsh hissing 'sit down' through his teeth. His anger obvious. I found it painful. The mother with a younger child in a pram did nothing. I found it painful and moved to another carriage away from the angry hissing parent.

I am learning so much. I became aware of my old habit of 'jumping in' which is pretty much conquered. I notice, all the same, my urge to 'jump in' and do or say something when I see such a situation. I think that urge came from my 'jumping in' when my father would start 'picking on' my mother. I tried to protect her but could not. I am learning stepping back, not joining in but walking away instead. It's their Karma. Someone else can yell at him 'Take your child to the park, he just wants to run around! Stop talking to your child as if you hate him.' Such things erupt in the city pressure cooker. It is not good, it is not bad, it is all part of life.

I wait for the bus going down Highgate Hill. A young woman is already at the bus stop. When a bus trundles down the hill towards us, she dramatically steps far out into the road, her body language all tense and angry as she signals the bus to stop. She had great fear the bus would not stop. It did stop and she boarded before me. She started shrieking at the driver in an Eastern European accent 'I pay for this bus, you will stop! I pay for this bus!' The passengers amused and surprised, another outburst, London life. The anger in her voice, the utter rage at something that was not going to happen.  She went to her seat, I got on and the screaming continued but the bus driver, calmly yet loudly, and quite lovingly stated from his driving seat. 'Do not jump out in front of the bus. Do not throw yourself under the bus.' 

This was magical because, although he was speaking loudly, so she could hear him, half way down the bus as she was, he had such caring in his voice. He had recognised that something more than worries about a bus stopping was on this young lady's mind and he wanted to address that in his repeatedly saying - Do not throw yourself under the bus. She stopped shrieking. He too had an Eastern European accent and I felt that he was telling her - I see your death wish. Please value your life. I am an immigrant too and London can be hard but please do not throw yourself under my bus. It would not be pleasant for me either.' This must have helped heal her a little; the love and genuine caring in his loud voice.

This is healing, this is connection, this is how it is in London because life is fast and expensive and as I once read on a billboard - A bad day in London is better than a good day anywhere else.