Happy? You bet!
We don’t need to learn that, do we? It’s one of those instinctual things like using our hearts, sweating and realising a cake must be moist to be good.
Only you do. Or I do.
I had a minor altercation with a cabbie a while ago, when I was trying to photograph a rather impressive monument outside one of London’s mainline stations. To obtain a decent image, given the position of the sun I stood on a piece of cobbled ground behind a parked cab. What I hadn’t appreciated – because there were no marks hinting at such a situation – was this was a place where black cabs waited when their drivers wanted a break.
So there I am, standing on what seems to me to be a piece of scrabby open space when I hear, right behind me a toot of a horn.
I’m old enough to interpret toots. And this wasn’t a cheery ‘hi, it’s me’ or a ‘be careful, you haven’t seen me’ toot. Nope, I’d lay a pound to a penny this was a ‘shift your fat arse, granddad, I want to park’.
I half turned and waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the cab – if I’m being honest it was not the politest wave but not really rude either (at least that is the way I viewed it) – and I carried on lining up my shot. And that’s when the ‘oi, you’ began.
So I turned. I had maybe ten seconds to determine my approach. That’s when I could – perhaps should – have learned to breathe. To clear my head with a deep inhalation of oxygen.
I didn’t. Neither did he. He was my age. He thought I’d ‘flicked him a ‘V’ sign’. I thought he’d been chivying me unnecessarily. He said he was just warning me not to step back in case I bumped into him. I said I was acknowledging his presence. Who was bullshitting whom? Our language developed a fruity edge as we decried the other’s explanation for their behaviour while defending our own.
Neither of us was breathing. Neither of us was happy. Neither of us tried to empathise with the other. Neither of us showed compassion for the other or ourselves.
As I walked away, I felt an acrid burning build in the pit of my stomach. Maybe I held my own in this frank exchange of views but I knew, however I might evaluate our verbal jousting, I’d lost. I knew if I’d stepped back and smiled – if I’d apologised that I’d got in his his way – then I would have walked on feeling better. Happy with myself. He might too.
What did it matter?
Why can I not learn to breathe?
Did you manage to take the picture?
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Trust you to ask that question while Geoff was struggling with the bigger bigger picture! 💜
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Easily done, unfortunately, Geoff.
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It’s funny, but as a woman I do the EXACT opposite calculation. We’re conditioned to be conciliatory, make those around us feel better, to give in. So what I’m always mentally telling myself is NOT to step back, NOT to discount my own feelings, NOT to automatically reconsider, or diffuse. Instead, it’s a mental “Heads up, shoulders back, stand your ground.”
My hero? This scene from Fried Green Tomatoes. Towanda!
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I’m older and I have more insurance!” … best line ever! 😀
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Because you are human and that’s what humans do. They rattle off the indignat “I was onlys” and then immediately regret it .🤭💜
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It wouldn’t have made nearly as interesting a story if you had breathed, Geoff. Conflict is so much more interesting.
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Unless you are part of the story
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Empathy is nice but I seem to suffer from an excess dose of it. Be glad that you’re not a pushover like me.
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Yes you’ll need to go light on empathy at Times
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I hear ya. Breathing is one thing, but it’s hard to feel like you’re losing in these kinds of social circumstances. The whole car element is so bizarre. My boys’ dropoff/pickup situation is horrible, which seems to be the norm. You can ‘t imagine how much honking and angst goes on (among parents whose kids are all in the same small school!)–as if 30 seconds here or there is altering the course of human existence. Yes, better to breathe! Classical music maybe? I have a Pavlovian response to Classical in the car–when I hear it I don’t drool, actually, but take a big cleansing breath. I recommend it!
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Easier said than done.
That’s called hindsight…
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I’m great with philosophical mirrors…
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Aren’t we all…
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I hear honks and never have a clue that they are directed at me. Saves a lot of conflict.
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Wise. I had a guide touring Sri Lanka who taught me four different honks understood by all local drivers. If only that applied here…
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I sometimes accidentally give the “drop dead” honk when I only intended a little beep.
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Oops!
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I call these hindsight lessons. They are only valuable if we heed them next time. Thanks for sharing, Geoff.
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I fear I’m a great relearner of such things
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I love moments of consciousness like this, this is how we learn. As the Dalai Lama says ‘Whenever possible, be kind. It’s always possible.’ It’s just constant evaluation and practise 😀
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Yep. Keep you wits about you and your hands in neutral…
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I try sometimes successfully to see a moment in time in context of what may have gone on since early morning or even yesterday…..the chain of a threat from an overdue bill scaring wife, wife harasses husband, husband steps in dog poo on way to car, boss changes his schedule cutting down on husband’s potential profit for the day, husband sees oblivious photographer cutting into his profits more for the day…..etc. etc. husband comes home and kicks the dog.
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Causation can be a right old sod sometimes…
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One thing that gets me going is invasion of my territory. Whose territory was this must be the issue.
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I guess. I certainly think he thought I was impinging…
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I think it took you by surprise to be so quickly and thoughtlessly attacked and when we are under attack, we become defensive. Breathing ceases during those times. But I’m in the same neighborhood as Pauline. A smile is disarming as is kindness. It takes years of practice but I had a problem practicing it even with family members for so long. This is a good reminder not to get blindsided. Thanks.
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Yes Pauline is spot on. If only I could maintain even a sliver of standards….
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It does matter, Geoff. Your reflection. Next time you’ll breathe. There’s not one of us who hasn’t slipped off the verge at times. I’m pleased to hear you’re human. Join the club.
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I know, shocking admission. Will my public desert me?
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I meant your reflection matters. Not your deeds. As I said, it’s nice to see you’re human. I don’t think even one of us would desert you. Maybe it even makes you more endearing. 🙂
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Gosh… hold that thought…
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When we forget to breathe it simply reminds us to breathe next time. Good thing we all get lots of practice being human.
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True i just need to keep learning
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