Red letter day as I finally dare to take a bus after an almost two-year hiatus! Strange how I can seem fearless in so many ways, but the thought of using the wheelchair lift just about did me in. Not that I was nervous about feeling safe on it; more that I was uneasy "bothering" folks by taking extra time and space on San Francisco's crowded, rushed MUNI buses. Well, as so often happens, I had a perfectly wonderful experience.
Driver #2991, a graying African-American man, couldn't have been more patient and gracious. As though I were an honored guest in his home, this courtly gentleman talked me through the process inch-by-inch...and then celebrated when I shared that it was my first time on a bus in a couple of years. I'd imagined I would sit on my walker-seat as I was lifted, but found it worked fine standing and holding the handrails by the front door of the bus. It didn't even take much extra time. Then my concerns about taking up more than my "share" of space with the walker proved unfounded. A man in a wheelchair even managed to roll by me on his way disembarking.
Well, now I feel the city is again open to me anytime I feel like venturing out. No more having to wait for rides from friends, or worry about using up my precious disabled taxi script. The world's my oyster! So where will I go tomorrow...
How many times do we limit ourselves unnecessarily? Not just physically, but experientially, emotionally, intellectually, spiritually. Is it fear or pride or apathy or lack of vision and daring? Whatever the cause, the result is always the same: our lives are made smaller and our spirits cramped. As with this refusal to use the buses. I've always loved MUNI buses because it's the very best place to experience the rich diversity of people in this amazing city. I also like going places by myself because I'm more inclined to meet new people, some of whom might become dear and lasting friends (as has happened more than once).
I remember taking three buses each way to Golden Gate Park one sunny Sunday two years ago. At that time I was using windchime walker, but still able enough to fold and carry her on my arm as I climbed up the bus steps. Even then it was an effort, but often people offered to help. Gosh, now I'd put myself at great risk to fold her even for a minute! Anyway, that lovely day I sat on a park bench for an hour or so, enjoying the endless parade of runners, bikers, bladers, walkers, skate boarders. Families, lovers, hot shot teenagers, elderly folks, yuppies, the homeless, affluent middle-aged types, you name it. They were all out that sunny March day after the torrential El Niño winter rains had drenched our collective spirits. Everyone was smiling--many at me and windchime walker all colorful and decorated in her finest chimes and crystals! I've paid big bucks here in SF to see fabulous concerts, plays and such, but this day I remember as a highlight that cost me a grand total of 70 cents!
Oh, I'm SO glad I'm a bus rider
again!