Two-Faced
Today while approaching the curb to cross the street, a silver-grey Acura raced to make a turn without looking to see if a pedestrian was there. Luckily, I had barely stepped off the curb, so I was within a safe distance. Following that car was a black service car whose driver I assumed was going to follow suit. I had already called the guy at the steering wheel a jerk in my head. And, then he purposely stopped and waved to me to cross first. I gave him a big smile, happy he turned out to be nice, but my smile was also compensating for the quick misjudgment I made, and the fact that I was mentally name-calling him. I was in turn mean and then appreciative.
Last week I was waiting patiently at the eye doctor’s office. I like him. He seems very competent and came highly recommended. After my first visit I realized that spending an hour in the waiting room was par for the course. But when I was on my way home, tired from a day at work then a visit to my ophthalmologist, my vision remained blurry from the drops, and I was less than serene when walking behind a young man who slowed down while texting. I said “excuse me” in a sarcastic tone insinuating that he should be the one to excuse himself. I was patient, and just as easily, I became impatient.
Life is full of contradictions. And humans are full of dualities. Adjusting to contradictions takes time and effort. One minute I’m smiling to a stranger on the sidewalk, the next minute I’m cursing a driver at the cross walk. I am friendly and I’m nasty, both are true.
Most of us do a lot to defend against who we don’t want to be. And we feel insulted when we’re confronted with not being our best selves. Our minds have a hard time with dichotomies. We want to pigeon-hole each person into good or bad. I like her, but I don’t like him. When we come face to face with others’ complexities, we usually feel uncomfortable. How can I really enjoy someone’s company, yet hate the fact that I caught them in a lie? Or, someone at the office who I try to ignore, shares his lunch with you when you left yours at home. It’s confusing having mixed feelings. And, it can be even more off-putting when we, ourselves, behave in ways that don’t fit into who we think we are.
I remember years ago an acting classmate wanted me to release my anger for an exercise. He could see my anger clearly. I didn’t see myself as an angry person. I didn’t want to see myself as an angry person. But he found my forceful “acting” insincere as I pretended to be angry. I was completely enraged that he thought he could see that I harbored anger. I had a strong belief that living with anger meant that I couldn’t be a spiritual soul. A perfect example of my thwarted understanding of new-age thinking in my early twenties. Of course, I swallowed hard and let my unacknowledged fury turn into a fake smile, as I thanked him for his thoughts. I guess I also believed being polite mattered in the spiritual realm, even if it was bogus.
It took me years to allow myself to feel my anger. And, in expressing it consciously, as well as, at times, inappropriately, in the long run, allowed for more joy in my life. I also have a better sense of humor, both dark and silly, since feeling my anger in real time. I don’t like that I’m angry. And, I do like when I’m happy. But it’s hard to have one without the other.
This is not to say that we shouldn’t strive to be kind and patient. But we can give ourselves a break when the anger, frustration, and impatience does show up. Because in real life it will show up. And, in those moments we can be patient with ourselves and others, making room for the anger, thus giving way for the joy.
