Yesterday, something happened that reminded me just how much power there is in choosing kindness when the easy option would be to lash out. It started in the most ordinary way—behind the wheel of my car.
I cut someone off in traffic.
It wasn’t intentional. I wasn’t distracted by my phone or being reckless. It was simply a miscalculation—something that could happen to any driver. Still, the consequences were the same. A horn blared behind me, long and angry, and I instantly knew I had upset the man driving the other car.
I cringed at myself. That was careless, Connie.
The Parking Lot Showdown
I thought that would be the end of it, just another tense moment on the road, until I noticed we were both turning into the same store parking lot. My pulse quickened. Great. This wasn’t over.
Sure enough, the man made a point of standing right in front of his car as I drove past, searching for a spot. He wanted me to see him. His middle finger shot up into the air, and his mouth moved furiously as he yelled things I didn’t even need to hear clearly to know they weren’t nice.
I had a choice. I could ignore him, keep driving, and carry that knot of tension with me all day. Or I could stop.
I stopped.
I put my car in reverse, rolled down my window, and looked at him. He didn’t hold back. “LEARN HOW TO DRIVE, FOR #%#! SAKE!” he shouted. And honestly, that was one of the cleaner things he said.
Meeting Anger with Calm
When he finally paused, I spoke. Not defensively. Not sarcastically. Calmly. The same way I’ve had to learn to speak during hard times at home.
“You have every right to be mad,” I said. “I cut you off, and I’m really sorry. I’m usually a good driver, but that was a stupid mistake, and I’m sorry for putting us both at risk.”
He looked stunned, like he didn’t expect me to admit fault. Like he was bracing for me to yell back, escalate things, and turn the parking lot into a battlefield of pride.
Before he could respond, I added, “Thanks for being quick and saving both of us today with your good reflexes.”
That landed. His body language shifted. His shoulders softened just slightly. He grumbled something like, “Geez… just be careful,” but the edge in his voice had dulled. For a moment, it seemed like he didn’t quite know how to process kindness when he had geared up for a fight.
A Change of Heart
I thought that would be the end of it. A strange, tense encounter with a somewhat softer ending than expected. But later, while I was in the store, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
It was him.
Gone was the anger in his eyes. Gone was the raised voice and clenched jaw. Instead, he looked almost sheepish.
