Choosing to count the love after being called a *******

Words can sting. 

Straight to the heart. 

And…

Words can connect. 

Words can bless. 

Words can inspire. 

Words can love. 

Straight to the heart. 

And it’s been on my mind since Saturday. 

On Saturday, I went to see a matinee show at the local Roundhouse Theater (I’d recommend the powerful show, but it closed yesterday!) and decided to ride the few miles into Bethesda, Maryland. 

Crossing from Friendship Heights in DC into Maryland gets a bit dicey with a bus transfer hub, a construction site and a whole lot of cars. 

I decided to ride on the sidewalk for 2 blocks rather than cross over 3 lanes and make a left hand turn. 

As I headed downhill pumping the brakes on the sidewalk, I passed two pedestrians in these beautiful floral dresses.

One of them said to me “dip****” in a low voice right as I passed them.  

I was so shocked. I questioned if I was breaking the law riding on the sidewalk (nope… you can ride on the sidewalks in that jurisdiction). 

As I rode, I took time to feel the anger and sadness and then I made a choice. 

Compassion. 

Curiosity. 

Clearly this individual was feeling the need to call me such an insulting name because of some sort of adverse experience. Had they asked me to hop off my bike, I would have happily obliged. 

And then I made another choice. I’m not a dip****. 

I could feel crummy or I could choose to shift into connection and be who I actually am:

a leader/an auntie/a sister/a friend/a cyclist….. who shines her love into the world. 

So I decided to count the smiles of the folks headed in the opposite direction.

Which made me smile.

In a period of about 10 minutes as I pedaled to the theater,  I counted approximately 13 smiles. 

There were also many grimaces… but I chose to count the smiles. 

I arrived at the intersection of the theater and needed to grab a quick bite for lunch. 

I picked up a slice of pizza, caddy corner from the Roundhouse Theater.  

And balancing my bike and a greasy, hot cheese slice, I waited for the walk signal to allow me to cross the street, so I could eat my slice in front of the theater and spot my friend who was about to arrive.

Behind me was an elderly gentleman, whose words were creamy with goodness. The symphony of warmth peppered his Italian accent as he pointed to a shady bench across the way with his cane and encouraged me to “go enjoy your slice on that bench over there.”

I turned around and thanked him with a smile and said I was just about to do that! 

Warmth. Connection. Kindness. 

Words can connect. 

Words can bless. 

Words can inspire. 

Words can love. 

Straight to the heart. 

After the show, I then biked downtown along the Capital Crescent Trail to Georgetown. With the heat and a small pizza lunch, I could feel my strength waning. I popped into the Georgetown Sweetgreen and grabbed a salad and sat on their outdoor patio. 

It was just me, my bike, a Shroomami salad, a rosemary plant and some empty tables and chairs on the patio. 

And this group of (presumably) tourists walked past speaking in French. A member of the group, as they went past said to me “Bon appétit” and then not 10 seconds later another person wished me in a low voice “Bon appétit.” 

I speak Spanish and a bit of Hebrew and know a little ASL, but the words “Merci” weren’t coming up, just “Toda Raba” (Thank you in Hebrew) and so I giggled and smiled. 

A blessing from 3 strangers over two different meals. 

Wishing me well. 

To relish my meal. 

Offering their kindness and care. 

Words can sting. 

Straight to the heart. 

And…

Words can connect. 

Words can bless. 

Words can inspire. 

Words can love. 

This weekend, I chose to feel the impact of the words that sting and shift into counting the smiles, the blessings and moments of small kindness. 

There’s so much we can count in life to make life count. 

What do you choose to count? 

Wheels up,

Ellen

PS- I’m feeling pretty stoked! Circle and Spoke’s upcoming ride, “Pedal, Paddle & Pause: An Outdoor Escape” has SOLD OUT!