Finding grace when things get hard

The other day I was pulling out of a parking lot on Main Street in downtown Robbinsdale. Traffic was pretty slow-moving. I looked both ways, as you do, and saw nothing coming in either direction. But when I eased into the street and started my left turn, I saw a car fast approaching on my right. And as luck would have it, there was a stop sign right after I turned, so not only did I cut off the oncoming car, but we each had to make a sudden stop. But traffic was moving slow, and we were all fine, right? Wrong. 

The woman in the oncoming car was furious. And she demonstrated her fury by honking her horn and flipping me off with both hands -- she was yelling and gesturing and full of fury. She was an older woman, probably someone’s grandmother. I threw my hands up in exasperation and drove on. But she kept tossing me her obscene hand signals even as I turned another corner.

I’ll be honest, the whole experience was unnerving. It’s not like I pulled in front of her on purpose. And it’s not like I cut her off on a busy freeway or did something that was even dangerous. I just made a mistake. But none of that seemed to matter. She was mad as hell. 

The whole ordeal reminded me of a conversation I’d had with my spouse earlier. She’d had a similar experience that was equally unnerving. I started to think about moments I’ve witnessed out in the world and online in which people have very little tolerance for each other. People seem quick to criticize, short on patience, long on frustration. It occurred to me, most people are mad as hell. 

My son goes to a Waldorf school, and over the years, I have read a lot about the founding ideas. In my book, Work Like A Boss, I talk about a part of the Waldorf philosophy that has hit home for me recently: we have all gotten really good at individualism, and that’s not a great thing. We live lives that are entirely designed for ourselves or our own families. Not only are our lives all about us, but we have grown accustomed to immediate gratification. We want what we want it and we want it now. And if things don’t work out that way we get mad. 

The pandemic has thrown our individualism a massive curveball. It’s not actually possible to think only of ourselves anymore. We see this illustrated in the controversy around mask mandates. We don’t yet know enough about the COVID-19 virus. But we know that, to some degree, wearing masks decreases its spread on the off chance that we’re asymptomatic. But concern for other humans is not enough to compel people to wear them without complaint or, in some cases, to wear them at all. Beyond that, though, we’ve managed to make a global pandemic, a horrible disease that has killed over 750,000 people worldwide, political. We are so used to our comforts and conveniences we’ve made caring about each other and ensuring collective safety a dividing issue. 

School starts in two days for our family. We’re starting with a hybrid approach, but we know nothing is certain. While we trust that staff and faculty have done everything they can, we also know that life right now is one big question mark. Things will go wrong: something will have been missed. Shit happens, and it’s no one’s fault. At the same time, as a board member, I am prepared for the inevitable anger and frustration from parents about whatever detail or issue does not suit their child or family. Not because these parents are particularly difficult, but because we are all mad as hell.

As part of my board duties, I reached out to all the parents, asking them for something. We’d recently asked for money and volunteer hours to prepare for COVID learning, but now I was asking for something that it seems we’re all short of these days — I asked them for grace. 

One definition of grace is “disposition to or an act or instance of kindness, courtesy, or clemency.” Grace is kindness. It’s patience. It’s mercy. It’s leniency. It’s literally all of the things in short supply right now. And yet, it’s precious in its importance. 

We are all moving through the world uncertain, disappointed, sad, and frustrated. But we are here. We are getting through this. We are resilient and resourceful, and history has shown us that this too shall pass. Being mad as hell doesn’t serve anyone or anything. It certainly doesn’t serve the greater good. Being mad as hell is selfish and validates that our needs are our only concern. See, we all do better when we all do better. We know this. Even the World Health Organization has acknowledged and published data suggesting that healthy communities foster healthy humans. When we extend grace to each other, we are also saving ourselves from the physical and mental stress of anger. In fact, science suggests that expressing kindness, that being kind, actually contributes to better health. Grace is kindness. Grace is gratitude. Grace is assuming positive intent. 

As we move into the new school year, into another season, into the next phase of this global pandemic, let’s show ourselves and each other a little grace. Grace means you take accountability for the issues you’re facing at work or school and commit to being part of the fix. It’s easy to assume every other driver is an idiot, and they are deliberately cutting you off on your neighborhood streets. Grace means you assume they didn’t see you, and you simply thank your lucky stars that everything worked out. Right now, more than ever, we must step outside of ourselves and extend grace to other humans. Who knows - maybe grace is healing. Maybe it’s what the world needed from the start. Maybe COVID-19 is trying to tell us something. Whatever the case, it can’t hurt to try it. So do that. Today. Try extending a little grace to the humans you encounter. I promise it’ll do your body, your mind, and your spirit some good.