From Rage to Forgiveness (Part Five)

What to do 

when everything we say is irritating. 

You and another person have been friends for years. Many times laughing about silly things, at times pensive over others. But things have changed. The easy banter has morphed into occasions where you irritate the other person. You’ve tried being careful with every word. But it’s exhausting.

And so you begin to avoid the person. Many of us have been there. And we begin to wonder why. We ask ourselves, have we been the irritant? The culprit? Hopefully not. Then, is the other person irritating us, slowly enough not to be so noticeable? Yes? Then we need to get to the root of it and figure out what to do.

Was it over a minor incident? Hardly seems worth ruining a friendship over. A major incident? It sounds like a discussion is needed for both our sakes. Or perhaps the person is going through a difficult time, and it’s nothing to do with the friendship.

So instead of conjuring up all sorts of personal wrongdoing, why not just ask the other person if everything is alright.

Civility: Our Tantrum Pandemic

The distracted mother, traveling with her children, failed to notice that they had left her side to find a restroom. When she suddenly realized that they were missing, she began yelling at airport personnel to find them. In her desperation, she chased the employees and ended up destroying the reservation counter.

 

An impatient customer at a fast-food restaurant argued with a young worker and then threw a metal chair at her.

 

In 2020, staff at a national park in the US put up a sign asking people to be patient and kind. Thinking things were improving, they took the sign down in 2021, only to put it up again in 2022.

 

Things had not improved.

Today, so much of what we have taken for granted is changing. Shelves are not always well-stocked, flights get canceled, helpful workers are no longer always there, longer lines proliferate. In the face of all these, our response is not always accommodating and patient. We're already on edge, so it's easy to become unbalanced, embarrassed, or irritated when things go wrong. Courtesy has vanished, and self-control is lost.

In the past, only a few people might have witnessed the occasional public flare-up and soon forgotten about it. Also, it was easier for a person to apologize when there were only a few witnesses around. But that's changed. The airport, store, and restaurant incidents just related were recorded on the smartphones of several bystanders. Then posted on social media. Periodically, such incidents prove so outlandish that the media pick them up, and we see them in our news feeds.

 

As an experiment to see how this might feel, try to dredge up an incident when you spoke in your outside voice. You were having a terrible day, and one more annoyance was just one too many. Suddenly you blew up. Now imagine if everyone around you turned in your direction and, as it is so natural nowadays, videoed everything with their cell phones. How would you have felt? The world at large will get to see your loss of self-control. And now you will always be known as the person who acted out and shouted at an innocent person, someone just trying to get on with their life.

This is our new reality in the age of social media. And a reminder of why a flash of disregard for others, a few moments of being uncivil, can have terrible consequences

.

Such a moment occurred on a spring day in 2020. Christian, a birdwatcher, and Amy, a woman walking her dog, encountered one another in a semi-wild area of New York City's Central Park. There were signs posted that dogs must be leashed at all times. Seeing that Amy's dog was running free, Christian asked her to put it on a leash.

 

Words were exchanged, and Christian, who was black, held up his smartphone and began filming. Amy, who was white, called 911 and said that an African-American man was threatening her. An accusation she later admitted was false. Since cell phone reception was poor in the heavily wooded area, the dispatcher asked Amy two times to repeat what she was saying. Amy complied with the dispatcher’s request. By the time the police arrived, both Christian and Amy had left.

 

Very quickly, at a time of particularly high racial tensions in the U.S., news of the incident and Christian's video, posted by his sister and with his permission, went viral. Neither had expected the video to get much attention, but it did. Comments of "white privilege" and "Karen" quickly followed.

 

Within hours, Amy found herself placed on leave and then fired from her position at a major financial firm. The day after the incident, she issued a public apology. Charged with making a false police report, the charges were later dropped after she attended sessions focused on racial identity.

 

But Amy's life was irrevocably changed. Friends and people who lived in her building were interviewed. Details of her life made the news. The New York Times newspaper wrote articles about the incident. Wikipedia even has a page about it!

The catalyst for all this? A breach of civility.

 

Civility isn't about following old-fashioned rules of etiquette. And it's more than just being polite, although that's an excellent place to start. Civility is respecting others by being courteous, especially when there is disagreement. It's being able to put aside our own point of view and listening to others. It's being open to others rather than pre-judging them. Civility is acting with kindness and respect.

 

The incident between Christian and Amy occurred in the Ramble, a wooded, semi-wild area inhabited by various species of birds. There are signs that say dogs must be kept on a leash at all times. Amy had ignored the signs so that her dog could run free. She then ignored a request from Christian to put her dog on a leash, as well as a suggestion of a nearby off-leash area where she could take her dog.

She had not been courteous to a fellow hiker, had not been mindful of migrating birds, had not obeyed posted rules, had not respected the natural environment. And, regardless of how we feel about what happened, she paid a terrible price. What began as a simple lack of civility quickly exploded into what was perceived as white privilege and racial intolerance. Amy lost her management position at a prestigious investment firm, received vitriolic threats against her and her family, and ended up leaving the country.

A terrible price to pay. One due to a lack of civility and an accompanying lack of emotional control. Recognizing the potential consequences of our lack of civility in such difficult situations, we need to end our tantrums and return to civility.

Basically, we're talking about treating others with consideration and respect, and valuing their wishes as much as our own.

 

It takes a few extra minutes to cross the street and get to an off-leash dog area, but wouldn't playing with our dog be more fun if we weren't constantly looking over our shoulder to make sure no one caught us in the wrong area? Wouldn't asking for help in finding our missing children get more people to help than yelling at them? Wouldn’t eating a burger after some wait be better than being dragged out of the restaurant by our friends pleading about how we’re going to get arrested for throwing a chair at a worker?

Losing our temper and throwing a tantrum is a choice. It won't feel like it at that moment, but it is

 

We have a choice in what we tell ourselves about other people and daily situations. Just like us, others are trying to function as best they can in an increasingly challenging, ever-changing, stressful world. We would do well to view others with empathy and compassion. Were it not for our karmic causes and current conditions, we might be doing the job, be of the same race or religion, gender or age as the person we are judging and yelling at. Wouldn't we appreciate being respected and treated with courtesy if that were the case? Not looked down upon or insulted? Or worse?

 

Wouldn’t we appreciate being forgiven by an understanding customer we were slow to serve, a coworker we had inconvenienced, a passerby we had inadvertently bumped into on a crowded sidewalk?

We would do well to understand that the circumstances in our lives—our financial situation, social standing, employment status—are karmic consequences that occurred in this lifetime. They serve to indicate whether we are enjoying good fortune or not. They can show us what we need to do to have better lives in the future.

So, for now, what we have is not as important as who we are character-wise and how we think and behave. Humility and generosity toward those with whom we interact are far wiser choices than arrogance. They are choices that will help us enjoy better karmic consequences in our future lives.

We thus need to choose civility. To let go of self-interest and consider the interests of others. To remember that, like us, they may lose their temper when frightened or when things do not go as they planned. And that, like us, they would greatly appreciate that we understood and forgave their loss of civility toward others.

Civility also includes open engagement with others. What could be more respectful than telling someone we want to know what they think about something and then listening attentively? Asking questions in a non-combative way is also respectful. The goal here is not to convince the other person that we're right or to prove our moral superiority. The point of being civil with others is to be respectful and maybe even learn something new.

All of this requires us to control our emotions. Being rude, bullying others, discriminating, and destroying property all have consequences. Even if they don't happen right away, they will come back to get us at some point. The question is when. And how painful they will be.

For now, once the momentary rush of adrenaline wears off, tantrums are emotionally and physically draining. And then, thanks to all those smartphones, the Internet, and social media, there's the reality that what we do will always be one click away from making us infamous.  College admissions officers, future employers, loan officers, and even prospective dates checking people out online will not be impressed. Like with Amy, the cost of a momentary loss of civility can be terrible.

What about civility?

Civility costs us nothing. But its returns are priceless.

Self-sacrifice and selfless behavior

aren’t just for the big things in life.

Years ago, a friend shared with me a special moment that happened at his church. With a minister who was appreciated for his inspiring and passionate sermons, the popular church had grown to become one of the largest in the area.

One spring day, when the church was filled with several hundred people, the minister completed his closing words and looked out over the congregation. He paused to gather his thoughts and then began to speak.

“I have been talking to you today about compassion. About putting the needs of others before our own. Of even sacrificing our personal happiness for that of others. Over the years, as I watch you all get into your cars and depart, I realize my pleas for humility and self-sacrifice may not be the first things on the minds of busy people. But today, could you please—just as far as the parking lot—do not determine to be among the first to leave!”

Sometimes it’s the little things that provide the most memorable lessons.

Fear: The Stranger at Thanksgiving

In our distant past, when humans lived in tight-knit family groups that existed by hunting, foraging, and ranging about in a relatively small area, strangers were viewed as unknown and frightening. Someone who could suddenly appear from behind a tree with a spear at the ready, steal what little you had, and then kill you, your mate, and your children.

 

Over time, this fear of the unknown caused humans to become hardwired to distrust strangers. Then anyone looking dissimilar would evoke suspicions, gradually becoming the norm. As time passed, people learned who they could safely associate with, and this allowed the formation of larger groups. The hunters and gatherers began to farm, thereby necessitating settlements. Gradually, they formed communities, established social norms, founded religions, and developed cultures. Survival instincts based on appearances were refined into wariness of those who didn't think or act like them. People who did not conform to accepted customs and norms could find themselves ostracized. Or worse.

Today we have access to the entire world, and strangers are everywhere. We may find all this thought-provoking or a simple fact of life. But for too many others, it is threatening. Logical, when their beliefs and life experiences seem so dissimilar. But disappointing because when opportunities arise to get to know those who are different, a good number don't take advantage of these opportunities. With no shared experience, it is not surprising that people can begin to believe rumors and innuendo about strangers. They may even find that ancient fear rising, the one that whispers in their ear that a stranger "might steal what little they have and even kill them, their spouse, and their children.”

 

Instead of questioning their fear, people succumb to its many manifestations. For example, they may have grown up with the expectation that their life would be more comfortable than their parents’ and that their social and employment status would progressively improve. But when reality is not that at all, it’s easy for doubt and fear, and anger, to set in.

Feeling threatened by others' religious beliefs or lack thereof, gender identity or sexual orientation, race or education level, age or social status, some people reject those ideas and characteristics that seem contrary to their own.

 

They become even more convinced that their views and beliefs are correct and worthwhile. Retreating into their own bubble, their world becomes smaller as they block out anything unfamiliar or not reinforced by their increasingly-biased sources of information: algorithm-driven social media, ratings-fueled news programs, and similar-thinking acquaintances. Seeing themselves as victims, they reject anyone or any idea they find threatening. In time, rejection turns to vilification, vilification to hatred, hatred to rage.

Such fears are amplified by the times we live in.

 

Ideological polarization is pulling people further and further apart. The spectrum of political, economic, and social issues used to have more gray areas between the extremes of black and white. Today, open-mindedness in those gray areas is diminishing. Uncompromising people holding one set of opinions glare at those holding the opposing set, and both shake their respective heads in disbelief and anger.

 

Technology is changing at a breathtaking pace. Smartphones are becoming increasingly complex, leaving those less technologically savvy frustrated and lamenting how easy it used to be to make a call or send a text. Facial recognition is popping up in more and more places, though we hear it's hardly foolproof, and we don't know who is using it or how they are applying it. Artificial intelligence is developing at an alarming rate, even as the ethical issues surrounding its use and the ways in which it will change our lives become murkier.

So much is changing so fast. Not just from generation to generation but from year to year. And we do not like when change brings so much uncertainty and risk. We don’t know where we fit during times of significant change, who we can trust, or what we can believe. It's unsettling. And frightening. 

Fear is a powerful motivator. One that can save our lives when we see a car careening down an icy street toward us. Or destroy lives when it compels someone to get behind the wheel and drive into a group of bike riders.

 

Fear can save us.

It can also destroy us.

Left unexamined and unchecked, fear confines us to our very own prison of rage and hatred. Thus imprisoned, we find it impossible to see or care about the suffering of others and to understand why they acted as they did. Blaming them for offenses, small or egregious, real or imagined, toward us, we are incapable of feeling civility, kindness, or simple patience, much less empathy or friendship. Neither do we see any need for such virtues. Blaming others, we see no need for forgiveness. We confer on ourselves the right to seek vengeance. After all, if I fear the “other,” isn’t it only logical that I am justified in that rising fear?

When we feel such anxiety and suspicions surging, we need to face them and ask ourselves what is happening. Are we somehow in genuine danger? Or is our fear just based on what we are telling ourselves? If our fear is due to the latter, why do we choose it? Because fear is a choice.

Where does it come from?

 

And why do we choose it?

The Buddha warned us of four poisons: greed, anger, ignorance, and arrogance. 

The first poison, which is greed, arises when we do not get what we want and expect. We may have dreamed of a better job, more money, or recognition from our peers. Our disappointment can grow if we don't understand that these things only come to us if we first create their causes, and, second, if these causes meet the necessary conditions.

 

The second poison, which is anger, arises when we do not get what we want. If we do not know or understand that what we have and experience is due to cause and effect, to karma, our disappointment at not having what we desire can become resentment. Left unchecked, resentment can intensify into anger and rage.

 

Because of the third poison, which is ignorance, we fail to understand that both what we have and what we do not have is due to our previous thoughts and behavior. For example, in order to have wealth, we must first have given it, whether it be our time, energy, or financial resources. There's no point in blaming someone else because they got the promotion and generous raise that we wanted. The real cause is not that their race, religion, age, or gender identity was preferable to ours. Nor even that their actions and ideas were better. It's that we didn't create the necessary causes. Or, if we did, the conditions for them to come to fruition haven’t occurred yet.

 

Because of ignorance, we either don't know all this or we have been told but can’t yet accept what we’ve been taught about causality. And so we mistake truths for falsities and falsities for truths. With our misconceptions and misunderstandings, we each become more and more convinced that I am right. Which makes you wrong.

And that's where the fourth poison, which is arrogance, comes in. The more entrenched our ignorance becomes, the more arrogant we become. As our arrogance increases, our sphere of existence—people, social media, news media—begins to shrink. We only consider views similar to ours and those who hold such views as worthy of our time. Those who don't think as we do are clearly wrong, so we avoid interacting with them.

What about those of another religion? Wrong!

Those who are LGB? Transgender? Disgraceful!

Those with a different skin color? Inferior!

Quite simply, it is the belief that I'm right and good, and you're wrong and bad because you're not like me.

Such tragic misconceptions. How do people get to this point?

Not only do they not get what they want, but the thought that they never will causes fear to creep in. They cling to their beliefs and belittle those who hold different ones. They defend their cultural and religious mores, and demean those of others. They denounce all those they label as different. Believing they're becoming irrelevant, feeling they're losing control of their lives, fearing they'll be left behind, they lash out. 

This is how our fear will destroy us. 

But fear and giving in to it is a choice. A choice we can reject.

In November 2016, seventeen-year-old Jamal received a text one day while at school telling him when and where Thanksgiving dinner would be that year. The text concluded by adding that Amanda and Justin were of course also invited. Jamal, not recognizing the number or knowing an Amanda and a Justin, asked who had texted him. The answer was that it was his Grandma.

Confused but even more curious, Jamal asked for a picture. So Grandma took a selfie and texted it to him. 

Grandma was white.

 

Jamal was black. 

He shot back a cheeky comment that she wasn’t his grandma, and being a practical, if cheeky, teenager, asked whether he could still come for dinner. Grandma quickly replied "Of course you can. That's what grandmas do . . . feed everyone.”

 

A few days later, Jamal drove from Tempe, Arizona to Grandma's house in Mesa for a pre-Thanksgiving visit. He found her to be a sweet lady named Wanda. Some days later, he returned to her home to join her family for Thanksgiving. And he has continued to do so now for eight years. Wanda and Jamal talk about how their friendship, which has grown beyond the yearly shared Thanksgiving dinner, has enriched their lives. And that they are the one who benefitted the most from having gotten to know each other. 

All things considered, those initial texts could have had a very different outcome. Many people would have reacted with suspicion and fear. Thanksgiving, the most widely celebrated occasion for family gatherings in the United States, spent with a stranger mistakenly invited and who was of another race? From that generation? Not our culture? Maybe a different religion or political affiliation?

 

So many ways for the situation to end badly. So many ways for the poison of ignorance to take over.

 

But it wasn’t allowed to.

 

When faced with the possibility of giving in to ignorance and fear, Jamal, Wanda, and their families chose to say "No, thank you.” They chose humor (Jamal's cheekiness!) and warm-heartedness (Wanda's enthusiasm for welcoming a stranger at Thanksgiving).

We don't know what first crossed Wanda's mind when she saw Jamal's selfie. But given her prompt response, "Of course you can," when Jamal asked if he could still get a plate, surely any fleeting hesitation was immediately swept aside.

  

By choosing to reject fear, greed was also rejected. As usual, Wanda had wanted to invite family members. When a mistake due to a recently changed phone number resulted in Jamal being invited, she let go of her wish to have only family at the annual Thanksgiving dinner and welcomed a stranger. 

Anger was also rejected. When a mistake is made, there's no point in getting angry at ourselves. A more productive response would be to determine how best to remedy our mistake, figure out how not to repeat it, and then move on. Neither does it make sense to take our frustration out on others. We made the mistake, not them. Taking out our frustration on others just creates an enmity or worsens an existing one. 

What we can do is accept that reality has once again intervened—things are not going as planned. We then can proceed as Wanda did by determining how best to do so. She did that in an instant by happily availing herself of an opportunity to meet someone she wouldn’t otherwise get to know. Then she and Jamal decided to meet prior to Thanksgiving to become acquainted before the entire family was present.  

What about ignorance and arrogance?

They were soundly rejected! Neither Jamal nor Wanda were caught up in polarizing attitudes towards race or age. Neither was Wanda affronted by Jamal’s cheekiness in asking if he could still come for dinner. She took his request in the good-natured youthful manner it was offered and reacted with friendliness, not anger. Or fear.

How much wiser would it be for us too—instead of feeling anger towards those who harm, offend, or just bother us—to understand that such reactions coupled with fear will doom us to lives of rage, anxiety, and retaliation, not understanding and the healing power of forgiveness.