Yesterday a hearty dose of human kindness came my way, an antidote against the cynical thinking to which I have become increasingly prone.
I rode my bike to complete an errand about three miles from home. I took one route there and a different route back. The route back would have been more difficult and dangerous anyway, because it involved passing the entrance/exit areas of several businesses on a main thoroughfare, riding uphill on a narrow sidewalk with high walls on both sides, and then—what I didn’t know when I started—running out of sidewalk altogether. The cherry on top? I decided to try this route at 5 pm. Oops.
As I approached the first business exit I noticed a driver in her car, awaiting the chance to turn left across two lanes and attempt to join the flow in the opposite direction. “She’s focused on making the turn; she’s not going to notice me,” I thought to myself.
I didn’t need to get home in a hurry, and besides, I’d rather get home slowly than be in an accident, so I braked. But the driver did see me rolling up on her left. In fact, she glanced over her shoulder, put her car in reverse, and made it abundantly clear that she was going to wait on me.
Pleasantly surprised, I gave a wave and a smile of thanks, passed in front of her, and cautiously proceeded home. I abandoned that busy route for a quieter residential one as soon as I could, but before then two more people did the exact same thing–backed up to signal a clear intention to let me pass, even though it meant missing opportunities to turn out of the parking lots where they waited. A fourth driver pulled the reverse-and-wait at a four-way stop in the residential area.
Maybe the fact that this floored me means that I’m letting myself get too cranky, but let me tell you, I felt far from cranky after that. As the scenario unfolded my thinking was, “I am the vulnerable, potentially invisible one. I will be patient and careful because others, with their own concerns in mind, may cut me off if I try to put myself first.” (Cynicism disguised as maturity.)
But what they said back to me, using actions rather than words, was, “You are the vulnerable, potentially invisible one but we see you. We honor your need to pass by in safety, and we sacrifice our own immediate goals to make a way for you.”
It took me about twenty minutes to get home, which means that, on average, this positive message played out for me once every five minutes. I couldn’t wait to tell my husband about it! How about you? How have you experienced the kindness of others? Did you expect it or were you surprised?