Pay it Back
by Arthur Rosenfeld
Just before
Christmas of 2007, I steered into a Starbucks drive-thru line for a cup of tea
on my way to teach a morning tai chi lesson. There were a few cars in line
& I got in behind them. When my turn came I gave my order at the billboard
menu & moved up as far as I could while waiting patiently for the cars in
front of me to get through the cashier line. While the South Florida weather
would probably would have felt tropical to much of the rest of the country, I
was a bit chilled & was looking forward to my hot drink.
The fellow
in the SUV behind me reached the menu. Dissatisfied with the alignment between
his mouth & the microphone, he laid on his horn, leaned out his window,
yelled an insult & exhorted me to move up. There was nowhere to go. I was
in a line & mere inches separated my car from the one in front of me.
Indignant at
rudeness, I felt my temper come up & because I am a pure & enlightened
being who entertains nothing but positive thoughts, I reached for the door
handle with the intention popping out of the car, taking a few steps, reaching
into his open window, & sending him to the dentist for a holiday visit.
I'll show you what happens to rude & impatient people, I thought. I'll
teach you that a martial artist is waiting in every car around you with the
express mission of settling the world down into just the fair, quiet &
patient place they think it should be. Running that tape in my head, my ire
grew even further. Testosterone & adrenaline flooded my body & in a few
seconds I had transformed from the peaceful, content, slightly thirsty
writer/teacher to a raving lunatic. My heartbeat was up, my hands were clammy,
my muscles were tense, & the whole world had constricted down to the tiny
business of completing my hostile mission.
Then I
glanced in the mirror. The face of the impatient driver behind me was florid
& twisted with anger & hate. I refocused my eyes & noticed that my
own face didn't look much different. Whatever plague had taken him had
penetrated the steel & glass of my car to infect me too, robbing me of my
much-vaunted equilibrium, my peace, my balance, my equanimity--precisely that
thing that my beloved tai chi training, & the Chinese philosophy behind it
prizes most highly.
I teach my
students that it is best not to lose that balance - wuji in Chinese - through
meditation, breathing, & tai chi training, but when you do, you can use any
of 3 "doors" to get it back. Door number 1 is meeting force with
force: I could go ahead & start a fight. Door number 2 is yielding: I could
kowtow on the concrete, admit to being an idiot, & beg the other driver's
forgiveness. The best option, however, is door number 3. That door is different
every time. The trick is to figure out what that is.
The car in
front of me moved off & I pulled up to pay.
"I'd
like to buy the coffee for the guy behind me," I said.
The barista
looked at me in surprise. "But he's a jerk!"
"Just
having a bad day, " I said. "Happens to the best of us.”
"A
random act of kindness, eh?”
I shook my
head, thinking how I could explain door number 3 to her before the guy rammed
my bumper with his. "Not really. I'm not doing it for him; I'm doing it
for me. I was mad right back at him, but now that I'm doing this I feel much
better."
I had only a
$10 bill in my wallet & I handed it over. She checked her order screen.
"He has ordered breakfast for 5 people. It's a lot more than 10
dollars."
That gave me
pause. I'd already regained my wuji. Did I really need to go through with more?
I took out my credit card & handed it over.
She searched
my face. "You're sure?"
“Do
it," I said.
After I'd
signed the charge slip, I drove away without a backward glance. I had found my
door number 3 was finished with the act & indeed I was already forgetting
about it. I didn't want to meet the guy on the road, either to hear thanks or
more yelling, so I took a circuitous root to my lesson, avoiding the main
highway.
Six hours
later, I returned home to find my answering machine full of messages from the
Starbucks manager, & from a reporter for NBC news. They had me from my
credit card information. Apparently the guy behind me had continued my act of
giving & the person behind him had done the same, and on & on. No doubt
encouraged by the store manager, the chain was intact well into the afternoon.
NBC covered the story.
The news
spread around the world. Within 24 hours I had received calls & e-mails
from as far away as Australia. The key point, of course, is that I had
performed a random act of consciousness rather than a random act of kindness.
I'd nearly lost my cool, had retrieved it, & done something good for myself
& someone else in the process.
In a sense,
you can think of this as self-centered, but in a good way. Keeping your cool,
maintaining your wuji is
just like
putting your own oxygen mask on in a damaged airplane before helping those
around you. If you pass out, you can't help anyone. If you lose your temper,
you are of no good to the world. Cool, calm & collected you are ready &
willing to participate in the world.
Violent
crimes and burglaries are up this holiday season. The financial crisis is
creating anxiety, depression, desperation and anger. Spread the word about
wuji. Do your best to control your own feelings before acting rashly. Think
twice before doing or saying something you'll regret. Random acts of
consciousness are perhaps even more contagious than random acts of kindness.
Raise your level of view, dig deep for perspective, and help make this a more
peaceful holiday season for everyone.
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