Last week, while walking with a client on the Cherry Creek Bike Path, a biker hit me with his hand. His hand out to the side, moving fast, his hand thumped my back. He hit me so hard that I fell forward a few steps. I said a loud, “OUCH!” The biker zoomed off to join the crowd of ‘bike to work day’ riders.
Did he hit me on purpose? I don’t know.
Did he know who I was? I doubt it. My back was to him and I was wearing a jacket I almost never wear.
Was it an accident? No, I honestly think that if it was an accident, he would have stopped to see if I was injured.
So there I am – client talking about her issues, pain in my back, not sure if I’ve reinjured my recently recovering neck – walking along the bike path.
What is a kind person to do?
For a moment, I became an enraged victim. I have a spinal cord injury! I could have easily been seriously hurt. My client is a small woman. If he had hit her, she would have been injured. He had no right to hit me – ever – let alone for walking on a path designed to be shared by bikes, walkers, runners, dogs, and everyone else in between.
I chose to let it go.
One thing I’ve learned on this kindness journey is the lesson of hot potato.
Here’s a guy who, for whatever reason, decided to assault a stranger. In my imagination, he’s angry with all the amateur bikers. He’s worried about work or simply just angry about his life. Who knows? Maybe his wife found out about his trip to see his mistress in Argentina.
Anyway, he holds a hot potato.
Stretching out his hand, he waps me on the back. In this way, he transfers his rage and impotence to me. I become the enraged victim. By taking his hot potato, I am forced to carry his rage, impotence or simple indifference to another human being traveling along the same byway.
After complaining a bit to my friends, I decided to let it go. I chose to give this small kindness to myself. By letting it go, I was relieved of the rage and impotence created in the act.
The only thing I carry is a bruise from where the side of his hand collided with my back.
Letting go is a gift that I give myself. Ultimately, by giving myself this kindness, I can maintain my own equanimity. I’m available to be kind and balanced to the people in my life.
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Simply Kind Tuesday participants
OG…there is only one decision to be made of the two choices presented, Hold on to it, get pissed and find a random biker and throw a stick into their spokes or let it go as another encounter with an asshole who is still an asshole even after you have gotten past it.
*shrug* You made the right choice. The potato is cooled and now is no longer worth the effort of holding it.
Such an apt metaphor and the decision that happens far to frequently is to hold onto the hot potato just long enough to cause a burn, then pass on the burn by passing on the hot potato.
Good on you for dropping the potato.
after 3 years of mourning the loss of a relationship, i was recently able to FINALLY let it go. it was a long road, but a very worthwhile one. i no longer feel like a piece of my heart/soul is missing.
That is a great image – the hot potato of anger – and one I will remember. It’s virtually never worth holding on to.
“Letting go” is a great kindness.
xo
Hm. Interesting. Must ponder further.
Thanks for sharing!
–f
TWMark – No, it’s not worth the effort of holding on to it.
La Shae – I’ve done plenty of that. I’m glad I didn’t this time
She – Congratulations! I’m delighted to hear this
Devyl – Yes indeed
Footpad – Pondering is good!
I love the message of this. Letting go is much easier said than done….good for you!
And that my dear, is precisely why I adore you so!
Tommie – Yes, it’s much easier said then done. Especially if it’s something close to my heart.
Zen Goddess Jen – Ah shucks.
I see your point and love the image of anger as hot potato, but I also wonder if in letting it go, you implicitly encouraged him to assault someone else with impunity. It could be a mistake to assume that the bully’s one act of violence was the only one he had in him.
As a small person with serious back injuries, the incident makes me cringe in horror, not least of all because it happened to you. I hope you feel better soon.
What a lovely word, equanimity.
Heart in SF – I understand what you’re saying. The problem is this: I didn’t see his face and he was gone. My choice was only about how I responded. There was nothing I could do about him. Make a police report? Bikes don’t have licenses. He zoomed off immediately. He had already acted with impunity. What then? What could I possibly do to discourage him from assaulting another person?
Linda – I like the word myself!