by Xen

Created on: May 01, 2009   Last Updated: May 11, 2009

I try to keep compassion in my heart. I have no idea what this woman is going through, what door in her life closed to make her what she is today. If she were happy, would she be yelling at the clerk because the register ran out of money the third time she had her children run through the checkout line in front of me to take out $100 each? If she were fulfilled as a person, would the thought of delaying people and being obnoxious visibly delight her, as it does? I am grateful that I have never been in a position to find my joy this way, but I still have to keep calm while I am stuck in this line for another fifteen minutes, just wanting to get home and relax after a long day. If I show anger, she will have gotten her negative reinforcement and she will draw me further into this melodrama she is putting on for her inner moppet's benefit. Leaving the store, her car cuts in front of me unnecessarily, going around traffic and almost causing three accidents to get to the red light five seconds before I can. I note with a certain amusement the shiny new Jesus fish on her bumper, but that isn't enough to drive from my head the sudden revenge fantasies that flicker through.

As I pull back onto the highway, I see a bumper sticker reading "Breathe" and, when I turn on NPR, hear a man talking about Tibetan Buddhist refugees appreciating their new roles sweeping an asylum. When I get home, the "Serenity Now" episode of Seinfeld is on (even though I don't at all like the reruns and shut it off) and I tell the universe it is laying it all on a bit thick, but that I am listening.

Years ago, there was a show called "Starved" about a group of people with eating disorders. At the time, I was living with and engaged to a woman who had battled and would battle this (and to whom I owe most of my ideas about the true meaning of compassion), so we were especially sympathetic and interested. It was a beautiful and honest portrayal, one of the best half hours of TV in 2005, so it was summarily cancelled. In one episode, a resentful, wretched man is being instructed (by a yoga instructor he hopes to bed) to learn empathy by saying "Thank you. I love you." every time someone irritated him. He immediately walks by three people and, three times, says the phrase. (The third time, it was to a darling little girl and he explained that he actually did love her.) This became a lesson I carried with me, something I mentally recite when I am in this sort of situation, trapped behind an aggravating

• 1
• 2
• 3
• Next Page >>