Tolerance

This past week I’ve ridden my bike to work everyday. Well actually, I ride my bike a little to the bus stop and then I take the bus the rest of the way. But I’m not using my car! And eventually I think I will be riding more bike and less bus.

On my way home Monday night I eagerly got off the bus, took my bike out of the carrier and started down the bike trail. I felt so relaxed and the lilac fragrance was a beautiful reminder of spring. Aaaahhh! What a great alternative to driving. No traffic backups, no angry drivers. This is the way to go!

As I went down the trail, I shifted a little because the strap on my backpack was cutting into my shoulder causing my arm to go numb. As I did this my bike wobbled a little and I veered slightly toward the middle of the path. Then a guy going pretty fast yelled: “Stay to the right!” I was startled by his voice and as he sped by me I called back to him: “Passing on the left.” Because that line is more near what I am used to bikers saying when they pass you on the trail. I felt he was rude and anger began to well up within me.

In addition to the anger I immediately went into this routine of self-assessment (defense) that flows over me anytime someone judges me like that. I thought about how I always tried to keep right. And why just when he was silently speeding up on me did my bike swerve just a little – enough to freak him out. But if I were to defend myself in that way, no one would really believe me. I wondered if I was now branded as a “bad bike path rider”. I felt that title would be unreasonable and unjust. Besides, he should have slowed as he approached another rider on the path, because you never know what might happen as you pass, it’s best to err on the side of caution.

So I felt unfairly judged and his intolerance infuriated me. I launched into a mental diatribe about how, ever since Money Magazine voted Madison a top ten city in which to live, all these high profile “A-type” personalities have been moving in and taking over, making it not so "top ten" anymore. I cursed about that a bit, I cursed at him, and generally felt crummy. My relaxing bike path ride at the end of a stressful workday was now angry, vexed, and exhausting. I couldn’t smell the lilacs anymore, all I could smell was the rancid odor of the lagoon. My knees started aching. I was so mad about how intolerant he was.

Why couldn’t he just have been nicer to me? Did he think he owned the world? Just because he wanted to use the bike path as his personal racetrack didn’t mean everyone else needed to get out of his way! Why was he in such a hurry anyway? The whole idea of the bike path was a relaxing way to get from here to there, not to make it another expressway, where you have road rage on a bike instead of a car. Boy was that guy ever missing the point! What a jerk!

Then there was a flash of light off the lagoon as I rounded the corner by the bridge. All I could see was a washed out view of the scene around me. It was very hard to navigate the tediously narrow sidewalk area of the bridge. All my attention went into trying to keep myself balanced so I wouldn't fall into the road.

As I passed the spot in the road where the blinding reflection was shining and came into regular vision again, I realized I had also been blinded by intolerance. I was being just as intolerant of the guy on the bike, as he had been of me. I needed to forgive him, not judge him. In addition, I needed to accept that I wasn’t perfect, and even though I try very hard to be cautious on the bike path and follow all the rules, there are some coincidences that will occur that will make me look like less than a perfect bike path rider. I've come to the conclusion that the worst thing I could do was to internalize that man’s behavior and behave just like him.