Yo dawg, check it:
I needed to turn left onto University Avenue. This is a relatively busy street, especially toward the late afternoon. I needed to turn left, so I zipped across the first lane of traffic and into, what I thought was, the suicide middle lane to wait for an opening in the flow of traffic. It turns out that I had stopped to wait right at the beginning of a left hand turn lane. Are you able to see this in your mind, reader? I was sitting at the very back of an empty left hand turn lane with my right blinker on, watching for an opening to pull out. In my rear view mirror I notice a car get super, super close to my bumper, pause for a moment then whip out really abruptly from behind me. He laid on his horn, and in what seemed like slow motion this man went around me and into the left hand turn lane I had unknowingly been blocking. Reader, I invite you to imagine this man, this driver who passed me with the fire of Hell in his eyes. He was so infuriated, yelling at me behind the glass of his window, pointing and waving his hands like a mad man in complete loathing of me and the inconvenient placing of my car.
I am ready and willing to admit that I had, by complete accident, blocked the opening of the left hand turn lane. But I was completely unaware! This man was treating me as if I had just set to fire his winning lottery ticket, tripped his grandmother or some other unforgivable travesty. And had I done that type of thing, then I would expect such a reaction. But having to go around a clueless 20-something-year-old girl in the left hand turn lane? It seemed a bit melodramatic.
Nevertheless, the way he reacted and the sick to my stomach feeling it had given me lingered. I felt embarrassed and about two inches tall. I had pulled out into the middle lane on my way to the store, and apparently ruined someone's day. The moment resonated. My mind contemplated: How I wish I had been given the benefit of the doubt in that moment. If only the crazy man could have thought, "The young lady in that Corolla is probably just confused and unaware of her error," and went around me (the benefit of the doubt), instead of thinking, "The young lady in that Corolla is TRYING TO RUIN MY LIFE AND STEAL MY FIRST BORN CHILD, SHE MUST KNOW HOW MUCH I COMPLETELY HATE HER FOR IT," and went around me (brash judgement). The benefit of the doubt is a favorable opinion or judgement adopted despite uncertainty. Had the benefit of the doubt been granted to me in that moment, neither I nor the crazy man would have felt the things we did. I would probably still feel stupid and sorry for my driving folly, and he may have still felt a tinge of irritation from it, but much negativity could have been spared.
I think in the majority of situations, we'd all opt to be granted the benefit of the doubt for our mistakes, blunders, bad moods or imperfections. I would always wish it given to me...so how often do I give it to others? I don't know. Once upon a time a teen was really, super rude to me, and I wrote him off as a punk who I never wanted to see again. Through many unexpected events I came to find out that he lived in an abusive home, and actually had a lot of really great reasons to be angry and full of angst. How prideful and ignorant I was, to judge him and cast him aside. How sooner we could have understood each other and been friends if I had given him the benefit of the doubt.
What if every time someone bugged us or we felt mistreated (like crazy man), we stopped for like 2 seconds and tried to consider why the person acted in the way they did (like unaware driver me), instead of immediately letting our egos get bruised, judging them or reacting? What a concept. I'm not saying I'm perfect at this by any means, but everyone could use a little compassion every once in a while. Just a thought. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but then again, maybe it isn't.
