Cut me a piece of that humble pie…

…while I get off my high horse

We judge ourselves by our motives, but others by their actions.

Dr. William Nevins

The incident

A few weeks ago, I braved the UPS store to ship back a duplicate Christmas gift for my husband Mike. I had my developmentally disabled teenager Jack with me–it was a damp, gloomy day.

I navigated the puddle-strewn parking lot clutching Jack’s hand, nervous that he might sprint into the path of an oncoming car. As I approached the store, I saw a young woman coming from the opposite direction, about the same distance from the entrance as Jack and me. She was dressed in scrubs and holding a package. As she made eye contact and saw where we were going, her speed intensified so she could make it to the door ahead of me.

She pushed the heavy door open without looking back. Unfortunately, her efforts weren’t strong enough for me shepherd a wobbly-legged Jack through the entrance.

The loud noise of my body slamming against the door, coupled with its jangling entrance bell, made everyone else in the store turn our way–except for that woman. Incredibly, she was still racing to beat me to the end of the line.

No acknowledgement or word of apology did she make as Jack and I finally approached, me slightly bruised from my door battle. We could’ve been invisible for all the attention she paid us. She just sighed, languidly pulled out her cell phone and clicked over to Facebook.

My sanctimonious thoughts

Can I just say that in moments like these, I can easily veer into self-righteousness–especially when it comes to my children? In fact, my inner monologue about the woman went something like this:

OMG really??? Are you THAT fabulously rushed that you see my disabled son and me as merely an obstacle between you and your package delivery goals? Where is your human decency? Compassion? Concern that maybe Jack was hurt by the door? I mean, the boy wears leg braces and is on the verge of collapsing to the ground this minute. Ugh. People are awful.

And then, just as my internal criticisms were about to rev up to Mach 3 speed, I remembered something humbling about one of my own less than thoughtful actions in a public space.

The universe speaks

About 10 years ago, I was in Barnes and Noble by myself while Mike was home with the kids. I love bookstores and reading, so a few hours to myself in this literary utopia was a treat.

I wandered aimlessly throughout the store stopping to pick up a novel here, a book about history or sociology there, and even hit up the Starbucks conveniently located in the back. Once sufficiently caffeinated, I strolled over to the Self- Help section. I was determined to read up on ways I could make this year my best ever.

I remember I held Eckhart Tolle’s book, A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose. Oprah’s buddy Eckhart exhorted me to “live in the now.” As I flipped through its pages, I heard a loud crash nearby.

Someone must’ve knocked over a stack of books, I thought distractedly. I’m not going to look up, because I don’t want to embarrass whoever did it. Yes, I mused, by now deeply engrossed in the book, I really need to be more present in my life. That Eckhart Tolle’s on to something.

Now here’s the irony: at the same time I was pondering on “living in the now,” not 6 feet away from me, a random man had collapsed, having a grand mal seizure surrounded by a ton of hardcover books.

When I finally looked up from the book and saw the scene, I froze. Dimly, I realized that the loud noise I heard before was the man grabbing at one of the wooden displays to break his fall.

To a bystander who might’ve seen the whole thing, I must’ve looked like the biggest self-involved jerk around. Fortunately, someone more proactive than I had already called 911, so the man ultimately got the help he needed, no thanks to me!

As I hurried from the bookstore, disappointed by my shamefully inadequate response, I reminded myself that I had been exhausted as a mom of two small children, one with special needs.

I went into justification mode in my head: It’s not my fault he had a seizure and it’s not like I intentionally ignored the man. I was actually trying to be kind by not being nosy when I heard the noise. And besides, what do I know about seizures anyway? I’ve never seen one except on t.v. or in the movies.

(I had no way of knowing that a few years later, Jack would have his own grand mal seizure. And that the image of the man in the bookstore would briefly flit through my panicky mind as Jack flailed helplessly on the ground).

Deflating my false sense of superiority

That Barnes and Noble incident has stayed with me even though it happened long ago. It gives me a helpful nudge whenever I get righteously indignant. It reminds me that I wouldn’t want to be judged by my own less than perfect actions as I move through the world.

Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness. How do you know this is the experience you need? Because this is the experience you are having at the moment.

Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose

Strategy to cut others some slack

One exercise that helps me clamber off my high horse is to attempt to find a positive–or at least, neutral– interpretation of a frustrating event.

In my UPS example, after my initial burst of sanctimony, I remembered to put myself in that harried young woman’s shoes (which, in this case, were Danskos):

The young woman could have been having a bad day. And maybe a short lunch break. Perhaps she hadn’t even eaten yet. I know I get pretty “hangry” and spacey when I haven’t eaten.

She might’ve had only 30 minutes to cram in errands and lunch before she went back to work. (I’m sure the scrubs she wore meant she was on the job and not making a fashion statement!)

Therefore, she might not have even noticed what happened to Jack and me once she pushed open the door to the store.

Granting her the benefit of the doubt allows me peace. And that’s a lot less taxing than revving myself up with self-righteousness. Besides, it just wasn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things.

Shifting focus

The tales we tell ourselves about people’s motivations color our view of life. Would you rather live in a world perceiving most people’s actions as generally well-intentioned or neutral, if at times imperfect? Or a cutthroat world consumed by ill-will and nastiness? It’s a choice we must make every day.

If we look for the good, we’ll find it. If we look for the bad, we’ll find that too. Either way, we’ll find examples to illustrate our world view. I know some people who believe the world is out to get them. Over time, I’ve seen how such a dark world view has made them bitter. What a depressing way to live.

Being on both sides of imperfect actions, I have learned to be more aware of those around me, especially in public settings.

When I see a mom with one of those monster double strollers struggling with a door, I’m much more likely to actually notice and spring forward to offer assistance.

I’m a work in progress, but I keep trying to be more aware. Making someone else’s life a little easier, if only in a small way, is very healing for me. It gives me the energy to deal with the stuff that actually matters. Every attempt I make to help is an opportunity for positive human connection. And that feels so much better in the long run than outrage.