The other day I was at the grocery store with the children shopping for food when I had to deal with a very rude person. I was picking out my chicken and apparently taking too long because this woman storms over to where I'm standing, grabs my cart handle, which is touching my waist and gives it a shove away from me. She then steps next to me, definitely in my personal space but not touching me. I was quite shocked, having been busy trying to find a package that looked edible, and could only stare at her profile as she proceeded to find her piece of chicken, all the while making loud huffing noises at me.
She angrily grabs her chicken and walks heavily away from me, never saying anything and leaving my poor cart where she had shoved it out of her way. I was mad and quite astounded at her poor manners.
A simple and polite 'excuse me' would have worked wonders for her if she couldn't wait one or two minutes for her turn. I guess she missed those lessons in kindergarten.
Or perhaps she's royalty and I didn't notice the crown. In that case I should have offered to push her cart through the entire store for her. Or, even though she looked well dressed, elegant and stylish, maybe that was a disguise and she was actually an escapee from Miss Manner's Academy for Rude Adults.
I'm not sure what her reasons were for being rude and I doubt she has a good enough excuse to justify just how improper she was behaving. I do know from the way she was acting that she thought I was the one in the wrong, which is ridiculous since I was shopping and not talking on my cell phone or texting while blocking the groceries.
But with all that being said, what is really bothering my state of mind about the entire situation is me. Yes, I didn't do anything wrong. I know there are extremely rude people in the world. And even if she was having a bad day, it's no excuse for treating someone else so rudely. Life is hard enough, we all need manners to remember our humanity. But over a week later I'm still letting it bother me. I can feel my body tense up when I think about it. I laugh when I tell the story to friends but on the inside I'm still upset over the thirty second incident.
I'm not sure why. Perhaps, because I didn't say anything to her in response to her actions and so feel trampled on. There is a certain amount of resentment that builds up when injustice is quietly taken, even for such, small insignificant conflicts with rude people.
No matter the reason, I need to forgive. Not condone. Somehow it is possible to forgive without condoning the action but it's not always easy to offer forgiveness.
The nice thing about being a writer that it always helps to write something down, because then I can let it go. Seeing the words is a release. Like water on the back of a duck. I can take a deep breath and it isn't thick and tight with resentment.
Forgiveness helps protects our health. It clears our mind, sweeps out the debris of our anger.
And it can be amazing. A few years ago I almost died. In fact, I spent two years almost dying. It was a difficult and lonely time. When I started healing I became friends with a coworker of hero hottie and it was so nice to enjoy life again.
But then she moved away and our chats and visits were fewer and fewer but we were still friends, until one visit when she never talked to me again. We had a wonderful time and then she avoided all my emails and phone calls. I didn't understand and I was greatly hurt. After going through such a difficult period in my life and then to find a friend, only to be completely torn apart, I was devastated. I didn't even know what I had done wrong. I spent weeks trying to figure out why she had so suddenly stopped being my friend. I already was experiencing a fear of embracing life because of how close I had come to exiting and it certainty didn't help to feel rejected.
I also kept the hurt of what happened in my heart and over the years it grew darker and more bitter. Instead of just pain it was now anger swirling in my gut every time I thought of her. It also made me nervous of making new friends. Why risk friendship when it could end so painfully?
And then a few weeks ago I had a dream. In this dream I forgave her and when I woke the bitterness was missing. The old anger was gone and I instantly realized that I should have forgiven her so long ago. Forgiveness wasn't condoning the pain she had caused me, but it was allowing me to let go of the anger. So then, I decided to actually ask her why she had treated me in such a way.
"I want to know why you stopped being my friend?" I asked her, quite matter of factly, but shaking from nerves on the inside.
She was quite surprised to see me and a bit puzzled over my question. And then she answered and shocked me. "I didn't. You did. Your child said you weren't sure if we were friends."
"What? You stopped talking to me." I said.
"Because I thought you didn't want to be friends." She looked as confused as I felt. "She said you were talking to your mom and said we weren't friends."
"You stopped talking to me because my small child said something from a conversation she didn't fully understand and you took it at face value without talking to me?"
She shrugged, clearly starting to wonder if she should have just believed a small child without verifying facts.
I almost laughed. "I was worried about our friendship, since you moved. She didn't understand the entire conversation." (Note to self, don't repeat anything in front of ornery child who thinks she understands adult conversations and knows she can improve on them.)
I spent a few years being angry and without dreaming about forgiveness would never have talked to her. And nothing would have been straightened out.
Which brings me to other side of forgiveness, the part where sometimes we have to ask for it. Last week I said something about a loved one, completely joking but easily misconstrued as hurtful, which I didn't mean at all. Unfortunately, I said this joke in front of my ornery child and she decided to repeat it to the one person I didn't want to hear what I had said. And now I feel bad for my big mouth.
I tried to apologized but I don't think it was well received. Hopefully, my sibling realizes I wasn't trying to be hurtful and I always hate using words improperly. Me and my big mouth.
But it is a good reminder why forgiving is important. Because no matter how hard we try, at some point (and sometimes a few times a week), we're on the side of needing forgiveness for our actions. I guess we're just human. Imperfect, sometimes grouchy and really good at not communicating well. Ask anyone who has been married for years, the ability to forgive is important.
I tell you what though, forgiving and waiting to be forgiven, is not easy. But it's worth it because I was tired of being mad at the rude grocery lady. I can even hope she enjoyed her chicken.
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