EAT ME

I was walking back to my car after work a few weeks ago. It was a warm winter day and I was wearing a cute, sleek black cotton dress. The kind you can comfortably take a nap in. I was minding my own beeswax reading Socialist Realism by Trisha Low as I walked, as one does, not too fast and not too slow. I came to a zebra stripe crosswalk, where it was very clear that I, the pedestrian, had the right of way. I have pretty good peripheral vision and noticed a big silver truck with tinted windows, waiting for me to cross before it could turn. Just as soon as my body cleared the front bumper, the driver laid long and hard on the horn and peeled around me. It was so obvious this person was trying to make a statement. 

Normally in these situations, I reflexively flip the bird, but this time I felt inspired to try something new. So I grabbed my crotch and yelled, eat me! I was laughing when I did it, and I continued to giggle as I walked because the driver's reaction was so ridiculous, so incredibly over the top.  It really speaks volumes about the driver and the kind of day they were having. At first I felt entertained but then I started feeling sorry for them. 

There's a concept in Buddhism called the second arrow. The first arrow is a negative experience that is out of your control and it causes pain. But the second arrow is your ruminations on that painful event and that is what causes suffering. We do have control over the second arrow. Somehow, my understanding of that event (the first arrow) helped me avoid suffering (the second arrow) because a normal, whole person doesn't behave the way that driver did. Only a sad person treats a stranger like that. Only a hurt person dehumanizes like that. From the bottom of my heart, I do wish that motherfucker some peace.