Slow Down
Gamma the Doberman requires a daily hike or playtime of some sort to offload her wacky energy. We rotate through a bunch of parks in the region where she can safely run and sniff around. One trail head is off the beaten path, up this steep, windy country road about a mile. Given its tortuous nature and minimal width, you have to drive carefully.
One day I took Gamma up that way and as I approached the end I passed an older guy walking on the street. No big deal, but as I was unloading the dog the guy caught up to where I parked. As he continued to march by he sternly spoke, without looking in my direction: "you have to slow down because you're going to hit somebody and it'll be your fault."
The initial shock of the unexpected reprimand lasted about a second, but my reflexes to diffuse tensions took over and I responded, "I'll take better care next time." He didn't acknowledge my semi-apology and just kept trudging up the road. Fine. I got the dog out and hit the trail. Soon that guy soon reached his goal and was already clomping down the hill. From the other side of the barbed wire fence I caught his eye and flashed him the peace sign, which seemed to be met with grumpy indifference.
He did have a point. I don't know if I was really being an unsafe driver, but I'd been under a lot of stress lately and in a rush - on some literal or emotional level - every moment of every day. I could stand to slow down, take a breath, do less, be more considerate, remember what's truly important in life, and be a better ally. These meditations on self-improvement rolled around my head the entire walk. I transcended the shame and felt thankful to have been shaken from my self-centeredness. As I drove away I kept my speed in check.
A few days later I went back to that same trail, and upon turning left up that country road I made an effort to cut my velocity in half on the off chance I'd see the guy again and he could appreciate how much I've become a better citizen. And sure enough upon turning a blind corner there he was, walking down the hill in the middle of the pavement with two women following behind him. I swerved calmly toward the opposite side and, as was my instinct, waved hello.
However his instinct was to dramatically flail both his arms toward the ground, i.e. the universal gesture that says, "slow the fuck down asshole!"
Oh. I get it. Suddenly all the feelings of growth and maturity I had since our first encounter went right out the window. Now it was clear: he was just some angry ass jerk from the neighborhood with a chip on his shoulder about outsiders zooming up his special secret thoroughfare. In any case I was going super slow and he was stupidly walking in the middle of the street around a bend, so.. you know what? Fuck that guy.
I hit the trail and my annoyance gave way to wondering if there's a reason behind his attitude. Maybe he knows somebody that got hurt, perhaps killed, on this road by a speeding car? Maybe I should remember that lives are complex and the intent behind off-putting behaviors isn't always obvious. In any case, I stopped feeling sorry about my driving, but still made it a point to keep it extra slow on that road because.. why not? Just because the messenger is offensive doesn't mean the logic behind the message is unsound.
A few weeks after that I was back at that spot and returning from a hike. I was getting Gamma set up with a bowl of water when the guy came moseying down the hill toward me. I smiled and said, "good morning." He said nothing, nor even looked in my direction, and just continued by. His two friends where lagging behind him and I also said hello to them but they could barely respond in kind. In the distance I heard him warn, "car!" as another vehicle was coming up the road. Is that all they did every day, cheerlessly hike up and down this road and say nothing to each other except warnings about potential danger? I felt bad for them because they definitely didn't seem to be enjoying themselves. Then I felt superior since I didn't have such hangups. Then I felt guilty for being so judgmental based on what could be ignorant assumptions.
I continued to go to that trail head every few days, and saw this trio every so often. Finally, finally, the guy politely waved at me as I carefully drove by, and I waved back. Okay. I think we're good now.