Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic.
(Cut to present day) Horns beeping, brakes squeaking, smog rolling, fingers flying…..
I have developed road rage. (Understandably I would say.) Blame it on driving out of downtown Durham, blame it on road construction, blame it on the fact that my 20 mile commute takes close to 1 hr. and 15 minutes. I am lucky I know, as I do have close friends driving into Chicago and D.C. Still, for this little country girl, city driving is something I may never adjust to.
With that being said, I am yucky to other drivers and it must come to an end. For I cannot talk about being kind and considerate when I myself am pretty ugly for at least 1hr. and 15 minutes each day. No, I don’t let drivers over. No, I don’t brake on yellow. Yes, I will cut you off.
My intervention and thus, this week’s act of kindness came in an unexpected and oh so wonderful way.
It was 9pm and I was driving home from working a show when up ahead I saw what looked like a Disney parade of dancing lady bugs. Upon pulling up closer, I noticed there were hundreds of cars stopped in front of me.
“Oh No,” I thought. “I am so tired and this is going to take forever.” Here it came…the road rage…the yucky-ness. As I sat there waiting to move even an inch, I saw some cars to the left zooming on up. You know the ones, the impatient ones that scoot on up there while the right lane waits in agony. (I am surprised I wasn’t in that lane actually)
Something happened while I watched all of this occur, I started thinking about the blog and about kindness and there was an opportunity there. I started thinking about what time really means. Why was I always in such a big hurry? Would 15 minutes really make that big of a difference? Then, I felt very grateful that I had been so fortunate to be safe for all of those times when my aggravation got the best of me.
So when I was nearing the end of the merge, I paused and let over at the very least eight cars from the left lane. To my surprise there was no honking behind me and no impatience at my actions. I can only hope the eight people who got to cut over in line are grateful.
For we may never know where they needed to be or what acts of kindness they were on the way to deliver.