Walk a Mile

I am blessed with a rather grounded upbringing. My mother, anyway, provided very thoughtful musings that were honestly rather unusual for the time. I suppose it was odd behavior compared to her peers but she not only preached the Golden Rule, she lived by it. I used to say that she was the most non-judgmental person I'd ever met and I used to say that when I was 8 years old. Now, think about most 8 year olds and how much their mother's character gets considered at ALL, much less for an aspect of it as vague as that to stand out... But that is how non-judgmental she was. I never heard her say a negative thing about another human until - honestly - recently and then it was so completely warranted.

One of the bits of advice she shared with me was to try to walk a mile in someone else's moccasins before jumping to conclusions on who they are and what their motivation is. She, being the great heart she was, could do this pretty easily. It was much, much harder for me though I did try. Well, I tried a lot more when I was 8 than I did by the time I was 16 and even less then by the time that I was 25. I think by the time I was 30 I was pretty much on the Supreme Court of judging others. I didn't trouble myself with considering anyone's perspective but my own.

Is it Dr. Phil that says "how's that working out for ya'?" Regardless, it didn't work out for me. Being judgmental allowed me an opportunity to be extra angry, a bit snooty and filled with all sorts of righteous indignation. I suppose, to a certain degree, I meant well. Or maybe I didn't. I think I was just trying to boost my self-esteem a bit by reminding myself of how and why I was better than (fill in the blank).

These days, though, whether it's my little love and her generous spirit or the fact that I'm finally getting wise enough to actually listen to my mom, I do care to try to walk a mile. Or 8. Or 26.2 ... and give people credit for doing the best they can with what they've got right now.

And that, Dr. Phil, IS working out for me. I find relationships that were difficult in the past are getting easier. The other party hasn't changed in any way, but my perspective on them has. Now, I'm less frequently angry and less frequently bound to spout out some opinionated bullpucky. I'm definitely a work in progress where this is concerned, but I am definitely making progress.

Today, I was at a busy intersection with the green light. 50 mile an hour speed limit. Loads of cars. Suddenly, this young man, slight of build with a shaved head and a cell phone to his ear runs full speed across the lanes to my left. I saw the speed with which he just dashed across and, being somewhat of a runner, thought "He's not gonna' stop. He didn't pull up." And sure enough, he just.kept.going. God, or angels, or luck prevented him from getting hit by any of the cars in the three other lanes. I had stopped. God, or angels, or luck prevented me from being hit by the cars behind me.

I could hear the driver of the SUV beside me yelling at him. Expletives blasting, insults flying, horn blaring. I suppose it was deserved. Yet, I just found myself worrying about him and wondering: Was he late for work and had to catch that bus that just rounded the corner? how could any job be worth his life? .... Was someone hurt? And he had to get to them right away? .... What could have panicked him to the point where he would have run straight out in front of all that traffic?

Clearly it's still bothering me, but it's out of concern and curiosity. I drove back past the intersection again just because I was going that way, but I looked for him. Why on earth he would have been there I don't know, yet while looking and thinking how silly I was to look, all at once I realized that just a few short years ago I'd have thought something cynical about the young man. I'd have been angry that he was so irresponsible. I had Dia in the car. What if....? But today, I'm not mad. And honestly? It feels a ton better.