activities, I was asked what my pet peeve is. And I honestly
couldn't think of anything.
Then. Oh, then. I had this little run-in at the library.
(Of all places.)
Feeling liberated and without a bag that the security guard
would need to check, I breezed by his desk and smiled
"No bag today!"
I'm pretty sure knows me.
But he still asked me to stand in line so that he could make
sure the book I had was indeed checked-out and accounted for.
Not a big deal. The line was moving quickly. I promptly filed
in line behind a woman, a straight-faced woman in her ankle-
length, black wool coat.
While this woman handed her book over, the guard simultaneously
reached for my book and took it from my hand.
This was the fatal, offending moment.
Because once the guard checked my book, she gave me the most
disgusted look in the world, a quietly, disdainful look, as if I was
a rat that just walked across her lunch.
I immediately tried to forgive her. I admit, forgiving strangers
for their clumsy or rude behavior in the city is both the hardest
and ultimately easiest thing to do.
But she mumbled something.
And the hair on the back of my neck raised.
This, I realized, this is my pet peeve. Ugly comments that drip
from mouths in a catty and decided tone. These challenge
every forgiving bone in my body.
I calmly walked back and asked,
"Excuse me?"
She looked me straight in the eye (rare and admirable, I think.)
"I said... SOME people just still belong in the suburbs."
"Excuse me ma'am, but I've lived her for three years."
"I'm just saying-" and at this point I cut her off because any more
banter and, I know myself, I would not have been able to control
my anger any longer.
"Listen, I am sorry he grabbed my book before yours."
She curtly responded in the middle of whatever else she was saying.
"I accept your apology and you have beautiful eyes," she said, both
just as cold and level as her previous comments.
"Oh, thanks."
I was so confused.
The whole time we conversed, the security guard said "mmkay"
over and over. I think he was afraid that this woman (who did
honestly look a little old and stately) and I were going to break
out our best insults and brass knuckles--street style.
I walked away, trying to calm myself down and consider what
exactly happened. The woman went on to tell the security
guard, "it's true... she does have beautiful eyes."
I believe in equal parts forgiveness and intolerance for poor
manners, especially in the treatment of other human beings.
But my body can hardly handle any sort of confrontation.
My heart is beating inches outside of my chest and my cheeks,
I'm sure, are flushed.
I am disappointed that I apologized for something that I don't
think was my fault.
But I am very happy that we addressed the issue, in spite of
my combined rage and fear of confrontation.
All of this probably took place in less than 3 minutes.
But what is it about these situations that make you
want--need--to tell absolutely everyone around you? Like
this poison has welled up inside and it needs OUT.
"Oh to grace, how great a debtor, daily I'm constrained to be.
Let thy goodness, like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to thee."
Let thy goodness, like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to thee."
I know exactly what you mean about needing to tell other people of the things that hurt us. This past Sunday morning I found out something about someone I care for that I felt personally injured and hurt by. And I spent so much time sitting in church trying to forgive, trying to get it out of my mind, desperately praying that God take the thoughts away. It wasn't until after church (the only good opportunity I had) that I could tell Zach and "get it off my chest." After that, I stopped thinking about it, and when I remember it, I don't care any more. But I needed to tell someone. :\
ReplyDeleteThis touches on something I've been thinking about for a while. Our need or compulsion to share our negative thoughts with others, and how they become lighter and easier to bear when we do so. It comes down to how we share those thoughts, stepping around the trap of gossip and turning it to confession and prayer in fellowship.
I had a moment like this yesterday with a woman I am working on a charity event with. I just wanted to say "This isn't about you - it's about helping people - get over yourself for this 20 minute meeting please" but I did not... just wanted the moment to be over so I let it go. That was hard!
ReplyDeleteNow to answer your question: It's simple things really, taking a long bath with scented candles and soaking for at least an hour, blogging, reading a book and having a cup of coffee at a cafe, going to the gym or to a yoga class, walking my dog, taking myself to a sit down lunch, getting a mani/pedi, going to see a "chick flick" my hubby would hate with one of my girlfriends instead or even just window shopping. Just little things that help me to be happier and make me feel refreshed when I see my hubby next. It sounds kinda harsh but he can never "miss" you if your too available and there all the time. Think about when you were just dating, you were not together constantly, so when you did see each other it was magical and special. It may not work for everyone, but these methods have helped my hubby and I to keep that "spark" and break the routines that most couples fall into. In other words, keeping your self interesting will keep him interested (if that makes sense?)Hope that helps!