It makes sense, I guess, that in a time of almost unprecedented learning about our outer world and about my life, that I would have one of those small moments that help me to learn something simply about "me," although the reflection back wasn't entirely positive.
Yesterday, I bought a few things in the rather hip and trendy downtown supermarket in the town I'm living in. Like many large towns and cities, the "normal" grocery stores are out in the suburbs, only available to us city folk by extra bus rides, and making it rather hard without a car to carry groceries home. So I rely on this store for small, short food-shopping trips. My cart consisted of a small package of two chicken thighs, about a pound of potatoes, about a pound of squash, a bottle of seltzer water, and a frozen item to help me keep the chicken cold on the way back. I stood in line, informally dressed on a very hot, rainy day, my dark but greying hair probably dripping with...perspiration. The line was moving rather slowly. Suddenly the lady behind me kind of circled around with a single small bottle of fruit juice in her hand and asked if it would be OK if she went ahead of me, since all she had was one item. My knee-jerk reaction was to say rather cheerily, "Sure, no problem." (Yes, the dreaded "no problem" which I hate but find myself saying all too often.) So she ensconced herself ahead of me. She was slim and about my age or a little younger, but appeared far more prosperous, with perfectly highlighted hair and lovely clothes and loafers. Once she was ahead of me, she looked more carefully into my cart and realized how little I had, and she started apologizing, which I tried to deflect by commenting on the unending rain, and hoping that she would enjoy her drink before getting poured on. All good WASP mannerly stuff. Yet I could feel this knot in my stomach. The fact is, my inner self was not in a state of blissful generosity. I was being, ugh, passive-aggressive.
I realized as I walked away from the store that there were so many factors here. A perfect storm has made my life what it is, not what it "should have been" with my education and background -- more like what hers would appear to be. And yet, I cannot know anything about her life, really. Who knows? Perhaps I am the only person to act kindly to her this year, and if so, I'm glad in the end that I responded as I did. But I think what it triggered is how quickly I sweep other people ahead of me, sort of like I know I'm a slow moving boat in the stream that people need to race around. In my own context, spiritually, I may be way downstream from the pack, but in terms of feet on the ground, I'm easily bypassed. I've been left in the dust, and I am the one who has actively waved people past me. "Sure, no problem."
It's hard to imagine having said "no" to this woman. And yet, I suppose if I had closed my eyes for just one minute, I could have tried to feel whether I was saying yes from the heart, or whether I could have said, "You know, I need to get to a bus so just this once I'm going to keep my place in line." I could have gently held my ground. Because I had a choice. And who knows, being really honest with her might have been an even bigger gift to both of us.
So on this anniversary, this is me, warts and all, still learning on "The Liz Path."
