The Bus Driver

... a Parable for Our Times

Photo by Alexandre Debiève on Unsplash

This story recently crossed my FB feed - referred from a friend, who picked it up from someone else, who said it was attributed to Elizabeth Gilbert. All that doesn't really matter; it's the story that counts. Please take a read, and I'll have some thoughts on the other side.

"Some years ago, I was stuck on a crosstown bus in New York City during rush hour. Traffic was barely moving. The bus was filled with cold, tired people who were deeply irritated with one another, with the world itself. Two men barked at each other about a shove that might or might not have been intentional. A pregnant woman got on, and nobody offered her a seat. Rage was in the air; no mercy would be found here.

"But as the bus approached Seventh Avenue, the driver got on the intercom. "Folks," he said, "I know you have had a rough day and you are frustrated. I can't do anything about the weather or traffic, but here is what I can do. As each one of you gets off the bus, I will reach out my hand to you. As you walk by, drop your troubles into the palm of my hand, okay? Don't take your problems home to your families tonight, just leave them with me. My route goes right by the Hudson River, and when I drive by there later, I will open the window and throw your troubles in the water."

"It was as if a spell had lifted. Everyone burst out laughing. Faces gleamed with surprised delight. People who had been pretending for the past hour not to notice each other's existence were suddenly grinning at each other like, is this guy serious?

"Oh, he was serious.

"At the next stop, just as promised, the driver reached out his hand, palm up, and waited. One by one, all the exiting commuters placed their hand just above his and mimed the gesture of dropping something into his palm. Some people laughed as they did this, some teared up but everyone did it.

"The driver repeated the same lovely ritual at the next stop, too. And the next. All the way to the river.

"We live in a hard world, my friends. Sometimes it is extra difficult to be a human being. Sometimes you have a bad day. Sometimes you have a bad day that lasts for several years. You struggle and fail. You lose jobs, money, friends, faith, and love. You witness horrible events unfolding in the news, and you become fearful and withdrawn. There are times when everything seems cloaked in darkness. You long for the light but don't know where to find it.

"But what if you are the light? What if you are the very agent of illumination that a dark situation begs for?. That's what this bus driver taught me, that anyone can be the light, at any moment. This guy wasn't some big power player. He wasn't a spiritual leader. He wasn't some media-savvy influencer. He was a bus driver, one of society's most invisible workers. But he possessed real power, and he used it beautifully for our benefit.

"When life feels especially grim, or when I feel particularly powerless in the face of the world's troubles, I think of this man and ask myself, What can I do, right now, to be the light? Of course, I can't personally end all wars, or solve global warming, or transform vexing people into entirely different creatures. I definitely can't control traffic. But I do have some influence on everyone I brush up against, even if we never speak or learn each other's name.

"No matter who you are, or where you are, or how mundane or tough your situation may seem, I believe you can illuminate your world. In fact, I believe this is the only way the world will ever be illuminated, one bright act of grace at a time, all the way to the river."

~ Elizabeth Gilbert

This story resonates so powerfully for me right now. The US election was last week, and shock and disbelief at the results are morphing into anger and anxiety for many people. Just as the bus driver can't control the traffic, I can't control the election results. But I can be that bus driver for others -- a listening ear, or just a place where someone can put down their burden, even temporarily.

This story is a powerful parable, "a succinct, didactic story, in prose or verse, that illustrates one or more instructive lessons or principles" (Wikipedia). The author added a few paragraphs of interpretation, just in case we didn't get the point. But even without those last few paragraphs, it's a powerful story that will stick with me. I read it at 5:30 this morning, and I will be interested to see how it might unfold for me today and this weekend.

I have kept a Commonplace Book since 1968 -- it's a place where I write down favorite quotes or passages from things I've read. Some things are written down; others are clipped out and stuffed in between pages. But it serves as a little time capsule of my thinking. Around 1995, I wrote down this quote from the great storyteller Pat Conroy.

"Stories don't have to be true. They just have to help."  -- spoken by Jack McCall in Beach Music by Pat Conroy (1995, p. 247). 

I remember that those two sentences puzzled me a bit at the time. Stories don't have to be true? But of course, they don't. Maybe the point is they don't need to be true in order to make their point. Although the bus driver in the story may not have been a particular real person who addressed his passengers on a particular real day, it doesn't really matter. I can be that bus driver, and you can be that bus driver, if we want to. Can we hold our palms out to let others unburden themselves, just a little? I think it's worth a try.

I'd love to hear your bus driver stories. I shared this story on FB this morning, and immediately heard back from a colleague who just spent the good part of the day before being present for a student in a mental health crisis. We can all be bus drivers.