Lessons in choosing the loving thought

I saw ahead at the stoplight, someone standing on the rise of the median, holding a cardboard sign, asking for money. It was a moment many of us find ourselves in — driving in the luxury of having a car, not worrying about life's basic needs, confronted by a stark, visual reminder of the less fortunate. Or, so it might seem. That is where the mind starts spiraling outward.
In this awkward space, with absolutely no knowledge except what I perceived to be true, I easily could fall into the judgment trap. Was this person holding the sign being honest? Was he truly homeless? What if I gave money — would he spend it properly or be wasteful?
None of that actually mattered, though. I only had control of my decision, my choice to have and act on a loving thought. When I opt for love, it's not out of guilt, which is harmful, or feeling good, which feeds my ego. Rather, I can give solely because a human being asked for help.
In this moment, the only relevant thing to consider was that a young man with a cardboard sign was asking for money. In those few seconds before the light changed, I could give him money solely because he said he needed it, without me trying to determine whether he really did. Unless I followed him for the rest of the day, I would have no way of knowing.
I dug into my purse and grabbed my wallet, which usually holds no cash. This day, though, there was a $10 bill. I rolled down my window and handed it to him. Because, how could I miss something I didn't even remember I had?
"Thank you," he said. "I appreciate it."
I nodded and gave a slight smile; rolled up my window and turned back to watch for the green light. In hindsight, I don't remember why, but I kept looking straight ahead. I do recall thinking about the conflict of making the loving choice to give without strings attached and how easy it is to rush to judgment. How far down in life must you fall, I wondered, to stand at an intersection, where people are forced to stop, and ask for money regardless of whether there was honesty in the ask?
Then, for some reason, or not, I turned to look at him as the light changed. He was holding the cardboard sign higher, hiding his face behind it. And in that instant as I looked, he peered out from behind the sign and his gaze met mine.
I have no idea what he was thinking as he looked at me, and I at him. To be honest, my heart jumped a little. Was that a moment of genuine human connection? Did he feel the love in my choice?
No idea. I laughed at my immediate instinct to attach meaning and construct a story, and realized that this moment could be everything I thought or nothing at all.  My only valid takeaway was the experience of acting on a loving thought minus judgment, minus expectation.
That alone is all I have control over: To choose to act with loving thoughts, without any consideration of if, how, or where the loving thought might land or what it might lead to.
Therein lie both the truth and the question: In every action, in every decision, is it leading me to make the loving choice? In that space, there is no room for anything else. So, the truth is — and it is the only truth — in every situation, I can choose love.

(Writer's note: This and many other lessons I have learned come from practicing yoga at Rhode Island Power Yoga and the 200-hour RYT training with Live Love Teach.)