My family is going through something incredibly painful, one of those unbelievably tragic sets of circumstances that you never think is going to happen to you or someone close to you, and for most people usually doesn't. And I'm finding that in spite of my best intentions, in spite of the inspiration I've had lately to start this blog and project peace to the masses, during the last few days I'm having a really hard time walking the talk.
Flipping my brights over and over and over at the minivan who was going way too fast in the right lane while I was trying to merge the other night? Not exactly choosing peace. His monolithic response was visible out the driver's side window as he exited. He was driving like a jerk for sure, but did I need to contribute to whatever might have been behind his aggressive behavior? For all I know he was already having a bad day and I really pissed him off, and then he was even ruder to the next person he interacted with, and so on.
I've also been less patient with my children than I strive to be. I have 11-month-old twins who are fabulously and maddeningly precocious, and the circumstances of what my family is going through are such that I am literally overwhelmed with both gratitude and heartbreak as I care for two beautiful, healthy children. I've been snappy with my partner too, and just more negative in general.
None of this feels good. It certainly doesn't feel the way I feel when I meet a challenge with compassion instead of frustration, and it doesn't even feel like relief. It feels like scratching at the surface of something I can never actually get to. I know I have good reason to not be at my absolute best right now, but it's like I'm watching this old part of myself act out these old responses to things that don't even really matter. And there's the irony - the lesson here should be that NONE of the things I so easily used to/still sometimes do get my knickers in a twist about are actually worth being upset about. At all. Period.
As I've felt myself slipping from my focus of radical, relentless compassion, I've been struck by how profoundly the events of our respective lives are connected to the whole of our collective experience. One day I'm feeling like Buddha on the freakin' mountaintop, the next I'm drowning in sorrow. So do I let this dictate how I behave and treat others? I can choose to let my suffering inflict even more suffering in the world by lashing out and contributing to a negative cycle of interactions, or I can let the depth of my grief be a teacher, a reminder of the human suffering that others I encounter might be carrying as well.
That guy shouldn't have been driving so fast. He should have seen me and at the very least, changed lanes to avoid me since the entire highway was wide open. And he deserves to be compassionately scolded about that, and maybe gifted a nice fat ticket. But what I did didn't help the situation in the least, and in fact it might have made the world a little grumpier. My children seem to have forgiven me for my impatience, and I don't expect myself to be a perfect parent, but every interaction with a child is an opportunity to teach them something. Small hurts add up to big ones, and inconsistency from a primary caregiver breeds a lack of trust and a compromised sense of safety in a small child. The eventual effect of that on world peace cannot be overestimated.
Fittingly, I read this from the Dalai Lama today:
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