Let us say that, theoretically, I am in therapy.
At the age of fifty.
Let us also say that, theoretically, I am in therapy for, again, theoretically, anger.
Let us say that.
I am 5'9, 160lbs.
An angry 5'9, 160lbs.
I have a sense of the origin of this, ahem, anger. And I told, this theoretical therapist, that this something else, is presenting as anger.
And I had this thought the other night, in a relaxing tub, while reading Lewis Hyde's The Gift. I remembered sharing, in one of the psychology courses I taught at the community college, this example of myside bias. Basically, myside bias is when you do something, perhaps wrong, you have legitimate reasons and the circumstances justify this behavior. Ah but when someone else does, misbehaves, it speaks to their character, not the circumstances. And I used the example of parking in the fire lane at the local grocery store. I used the example because I can get genuinely angry at people that park in the fire lane at this grocery store, though, wait for it, I have done this myself. You know, with legitimate reasons, like just pulling up for a second to drop off my pregnant wife, because we have two kids in the car and etc etc. Legitimate reasons, justifying my parking there. But other people, oh no, their reasons are not legitimate. Well, you can sense the hypocrisy. And I started rolling this around in the old bean and it started becoming a comedy bit of sorts but with effect and Heideggerian perspective/psychological framing at the end, that shoots, from all things, a hearing aid.
So hear it now:
AS A COMEDY BIT
Oh man, get this. I am in therapy. Yep, fifty years old and in therapy. Haven't figured things out after fifty years on the planet. Oh and get this, I'm in therapy for...anger. Yep, lil ole me has anger issues. Grrrrr.
This one time, I was going to the grocery store, grrrrr, and as I pull in the place is packed and I get all angry about it. Grrrr. Just incredibly bothered and angry about a crowded grocery store. You can see why I need therapy now. Anyway, I'm pulling in to this incredibly jamming parking lot and get blocked by this car parked, you guessed it, in the fire lane. Oh boy, I'm pissed now. I can't get my errands done on my time, I might have to wait for thirty seconds and you all know how important I am and how thirty seconds matters so much to a man of my incredible importance. Why I am a man who needs milk, and eggs, and butter, how dare you park in the fire lane and interrupt my important life. Right? So I'm jammed up by this fire lane parker so I just lay on the horn behind this fire lane parker. Just blarin' my horn, to let 'em know how important I am. Grrrr.
Well all of a sudden, an old lady gets out of the passenger side door. Must've been close to a hundred years old. She's got the three prong walker with the tennis balls, the whole nine yards, and she's going to get her groceries. Well I feel awful about myself and immediately cut off the horn. You know it all hits me in a matter of seconds, seeing this old lady getting out of the car, and I just feel awful and turn all that anger inward, right. Grrrr.
But here's the thing. Next thing, I see this old arm, from the driver's window, waving me past. Ok, now I'm ashamed. Just awful. All I wanted to do was go to the grocery story and I'm having all of these feelings. So I start to creep by this guy, with my shameful self in my shameful car, and I know I shouldn't have. Dammit I shouldn't have. But I looked at the guy. And of course, he's about a hundred years old too, just looks like the guy from the movie Up. Yeah. This sweet old man is dropping off his sweet old wife at the grocery store, and because I had to wait a nanosecond for them, I laid on the horn. What an asshole, right?
But get this, I drive by, and the old time smiles at me. And it wasn't a "how you feel now you prick?' kinda smile either. It was a genuine "how you doing today, isn't it great to be alive, getting groceries, dropping-off my wife" kinda smile. Not even kidding you, this old man laid a smile on me, like "hey young feller, how bout that ball game last night?"
Well, as I'm creeping by in this car, this old timer smiling at me, I see it. A hearing aid, in his left ear. And it dawns on me, that he didn't hear the horn. Yeah that's it, the old timer and his cute old wife, they didn't even hear the horn. I tell myself they couldn't hear an AC/DC concert with front row tickets.
"They never even heard my horn," I tell myself. Saved. My day was saved.
My day was saved. But that wasn't why.
He heard the horn, he heard me blaring it because I had to wait a nanosecond. He just didn't get angry about it. He didn't feel insulted and he's not mad at the world and he doesn't trod this planet with a chip on his shoulder, waiting to be offended, and judged. He has perspective, and he shared it with me, with a smile from ear to ear. A smile to say: what is this in the big scheme of things? A smile to say: why does this offend and anger you when the sun in shining and you draw air into your lungs? A smile to say: what are you so pissed off about when you have so much?
I heard all of this, though he was the one with the hearing aid.
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