I was walking along at a pretty good clip, a quarter of the way through my daily walk around the neighborhood when our paths crossed. Almost clear of the driveway, I caught, out of the corner of my eye, a sedan barreling my way.
Its pilot blissfully unaware that I existed, her hair the same shade of blue as her car, she backed out onto the street probably thinking of a million things that she needed to accomplish that day. Based on our imminent collision, it appeared as though running me over was one of them. As her rear quarter panel narrowly missed me, I began my silent litany.
Instantly, my brain started whirling. Indignant, I began an inner rant, railing at her incompetence. I was ramping up my dark fantasies of rounding up geriatric drivers and using a huge magnet to suck their car keys from their papery-skinned hands when I noticed her again.
She had pulled over, rolled down her window and was trying to get my attention.
“I’m so very sorry,” she began. “I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you at all. I hope you are alright. I’ll be more careful in the future.”
Do you know what the dying Pac Man sounds like?
That’s how I felt. Deflated and chastened. I managed to chirp, “No problem. I’m fine, ma’am. Have a pleasant afternoon.”
What I felt like doing? Apologizing to her.
“Apology is a lovely perfume; it can transform the clumsiest moment into a gracious gift.”— Margaret Lee Runbeck
This moment was a gift. This woman had given me the opportunity to exercise my faith in action. Was I going to treat someone the way I would wish to be treated (e.g. being forgiven)? Or was I going to continue on the trajectory of being an arrogant jerk?
In accepting her apology, we had completed a social contract. These sorts of interactions, replicated across communities and between people, form the tethers that hold us together. They constitute the million individual and independent decisions that forge our common future.
“Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future.” — Paul Boese
When we apologize, we allow for expansiveness and possibility. We are taking responsibility for the action that caused someone else pain or inconvenience. Accountability for our actions leads to mindfulness, which in turn allows us to change our actions, expanding our opportunities.
Her choice to apologize affected me — and continues to affect my interactions — with other people. I’m glad that our paths crossed. Has there been a time in your life when you’ve had to apologize? How did it affect your relationship with that person? with others since?
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