We all make mistakes...
...but does the response have to be so angry?
Unfamiliar territory
Last night I was driving around an unfamiliar area, in the dark, trying to work out the correct filter lanes, to cope with the glare of the lights, to navigate to a new destination. Taz was in the passenger seat, fluffy socked feet up on the dashboard, phone incessantly lighting up in my peripherary as she ‘snapped’ her friends and ordered a Nando’s. A piece of something was hanging off the car causing me not insignificant anxiety, and I had a dog in the back seat. With all the visual stimulation and processing in my brain, I failed to notice the zebra crossing ahead, family waiting patiently at the side, and I didn’t stop. There was no danger, they hadn’t stepped out, but what there was, was anger. Wild gesticulations condemning me, hand signs filling my rear view mirror as I drove onwards. I felt awful, I should have stopped, but I’m human, and I made a mistake.
The thing is, when I make mistakes, they are simply that - mistakes. They are not done with malicious intent or out of thoughtlessness, they are more likely through to overthinking, or trying to be all things to all people all the time. And so it is with the vast majority of us…so why does it feel like, as a society, we are so intolerant to this fundamentally human condition?
Mistakes are, after all, how we learn…
Why are the responses to our mistakes sometimes so emotive? And never more so than at this time of year.
The Christmas effect
Christmas multiplies everything x 1000. We know that - and there are multiple essays that could be (and have been) written on this subject alone. I’m not entirely sure why this happens - whilst it is a day of great cultural significance to some, it is, after all, just one day. Nonetheless I am aware it raises tensions in so many. Whilst I feel lucky to live in a household that doesn’t endure conflict at Christmas, I have to find my way in a society that does. At this time of year, taking a wrong turning in front of someone embroiled in their own stresses, or inadvertently blocking the parking space for another with toddlers screaming and family deadlines bearing down can bring extreme reactions, which (whilst to some extent understandable) are difficult to absorb, and I wonder: How have we come to this collective creation of ‘stress’? To exist in a flurry which serves to dull our empathy towards our fellow humankind. To be so quick to criticism over understanding, to anger over compassion?
The most stressful job in the world?
When I was an air traffic controller in my twenties, fresh(ish) from a maths degree, my synapses were flexing their taut muscles to the full. I was sharp, responsive, quick. Brain calculations were effortless - and this is an environment where you really don’t want to make mistakes (more on that, perhaps, another time)! I remember talking to colleagues in their fifties back then - they would explain that their reactions weren’t as quick anymore, but what they leant back on instead, was the wisdom of experience, the muscle memory of decades of practice and exposure to scenarios. They didn’t necessarily need to calculate everything afresh, they would have encountered some version of it before, and the brain could ‘mine’ that information and bring it to the fore.
How wonderful.
Now that I am in my fifties, I understand this acutely - the change in how the brain processes information. And this is not just about blaming it on the menoboogie, (although #brainfog is real); it is about ageing, evolving, adapting. Whilst I might not be as ‘quick’ as I once was, my entire being carries an ingrained wisdom; yet new scenarios can still flummox…Anyone for tiktok?
What happens behind the wheel
I know I don’t drive as confidently as I used to. Whilst I do have those years of experience to lean on, the environment is less forgiving than it was. I am less comfortable driving in the dark, and I really struggle with the glare of modern car lights, so I slow down, take more time, and try to keep safe. Sometimes that might make me dither, or God forbid, realise I am in the wrong lane at the last minute and need to hold the traffic behind me until some kindly driver lets me move over. But it seems that many people don’t take kindly to such dithersome behaviour.
Himself is the most placid and laid back character you can imagine. As a fire fighter and international rescue worker, he exudes exactly the sort of calm you would hope for…except when behind the wheel. Now he’s not a road rager, that would be doing him a disservice, but he is intolerant of other drivers. I sense it if someone makes a late lane change or slows down - the frustration, the questioning of their driving skills. Where my mind defaults to ‘they’re probably lost’, he is busy eye rolling in despair and wondering why they have a licence. I gently remind him that we’re not all used to navigating the Hanger Lane gyratory at high speed with blue lights on, and that that dithering driver could be me.
The anger response is clearly all about what is going on in that person’s own mind - their stresses: running late, unwanted Christmas guests, out of sprouts, bad day at work, row with a loved one…whatever it may be. Anger is a horrible emotion to hold, and is the signifier of what lies beneath. When I get flashes of anger, irritation and frustration (I can take off my ‘Saint Emma’ mantle and confess I do get them), I try to take a different perspective - although I won’t pretend I always succeed.
If someone does something that causes ire - not stopping at a zebra crossing for example - I try not to default to ‘what a twat’, but wonder what is going on for them in their day? Perhaps they’ve just lost a loved one and are overwhelmed with sadness; perhaps they are scared, confused, lonely, afraid. Perhaps they are lost and unfamiliar with their situation, or perhaps they are being human and have just simply made a mistake. We never know what is going on in someone else’s life. (I mean there’s there’s always the possibility they are just being a twat, but it’s less heavy on the heart to consider other alternatives).
An alternative to anger
In the next week or two, throughout the madness and the quietening that follows - that period after Christmas and before the world reawakes that
so beautifully describes as ‘The Hush’ I am going to publish a short series of posts that are the antithesis of anger.These are real stories of the kindness and wonder of people. Actions that default to thoughtfulness and love. Things I have seen and experienced personally that reflect the overwhelming tolerance that belies the surface anger that flashes through our world. A reminder of ways of being to lighten the soul. Something to serve as a comforter for when someone shouts at you over the sprout aisle in Sainsbury’s, angrily honks their horn at you when you realise you’re in the wrong lane, or screws their face up with harsh words or raises any combination of fingers; to remember that most people are bloody lovely…and that ‘love actually is all around’
I look forward to sharing it with you.
What do you notice about your own levels of stress and tolerance at this time of year?
Do you feel that we are in a society that is less forgiving of mistakes?
How do we begin to counter this?
I’d love to know your thoughts.
Love & lemons 💕🍋
Em xx
Brilliant read as always. After a year of living life in balance and alignment (not perfectly) I’ve got caught up in overdoing it right at the tail end of the year 🤦🏼♀️ had an interesting week last week especially (losing a good few post ideas was only part of it - something that doesn’t happen when I’m not overdoing it). I ended up doing a couple of journies that wouldn’t have been necessary if I’d been on it with my life admin jobs (instead of going into overdoing it mode). I really annoyed and frustrated but sat with the idea that I’d created the situations I’d found myself in and created more work for myself. Something I believe many of us (if not all of us) do.
Society wise, I feel we are a society that doesn’t honour the fact we are human beings living a human experience. Whether it’s making mistakes, having periods, being ill, falling over and injuring ourselves. We’ve made it all such an inconvenience. We are paying the price in many ways and one of the biggest is with our physical, mental and emotional health.
Beautiful writing, Emma. I think my approach to anger was more like your husband's in the past, especially when I lived in London, when rage was never far from the surface. These days I'm moving more towards your position of aiming for more understanding.