Turning Hate into Love

It happened around ten in the evening some years ago. I was alone, sitting sideways on the driver's seat, reading a newspaper at our main bus stop at 4th and C street in Petaluma. As I read, my peripheral vision picked up the movement of a man approaching the bus through the darkened bank parking lot outside. Stopping at a point a foot or so behind the front door, he silently leaned sideways to look inside the bus. Even before I  looked up at him, my mind began to fill with ugly thoughts and feelings. When I finally did look up at him, my mind screamed in recognition: "Oh no, not you again, you must be the most disgusting, despicable, and repulsive person in the world!"

Shocked by the strength and brutality of my reaction, I thought, "Wait a minute, are these thoughts coming from me or him?" Before I could finish the question, I knew the answer. These thoughts and feelings were coming from him; they were projections of his beliefs and expectations, his thoughts and feelings about himself! When I realized this, I felt great relief and my heart went out to him for being so down on himself. As it did, he transformed into another person before my eyes. He straightened up, paid his fare, and sat down across the isle from me as if he wanted to talk, which we did. In fact, we had a great conversation. In the past, he would always slink to the rear of the bus in silence, or stop long enough to complain (whine) about some driver or the bus company before heading to the rear of the bus. Tonight, he was a changed man and so was I because I refused to let myself hate him.

Whether the revulsion I felt for him was in response to his body language, the telepathic projection of his thoughts about himself, or a combination of both doesn't really matter. What does matter is that I refused to allow his perception of himself to become my perception of him. I took responsibility for my own thoughts and feelings. When I responded to him with love and understanding, it resulted in a profound change in his behavior. Strangely, I haven't seen him since.