In the Driver's Seat

Honesty is the crucial part of the whole ball of wax. Cliche aside, honesty is the engine that drives the journey of not only reaching our potential, but going beyond. The honesty provides the tools of evaluation and discrimination, the ability to acknowledge and work around limitations, and the vision of reality that keeps energies focused on the growth of the true self. Honesty is the key to balance and the foundation of acting instead of reacting.

Yesterday, while sitting at a stoplight, I glance over to my right. There is a doctor's office there with a parking lot in front. I see a man and woman with a small, blond haired little girl walking between them. Suddenly, the woman lunges at the little girl and grabs her hand. The man grabs the other hand, lifts the girl off her feet, and using a motion like sending a bowling ball down a lane, swats the little girl's butt. The girl's body arches, her feet land back on the ground, and both the woman and man let go of her hands to continue walking toward their car. I am in the middle lane, blocked in with cars all around me.

This little drama played out in less than three seconds, yet my mind was furiously attempting to assess the situation and plan a course of action. As a parent, I know the incredible feeling of panic as my little child threatens to dart off into the middle of a busy parking lot. That did not happen with this little girl who obediently walked between the woman and man in an empty parking lot. I saw no infraction of any sort, but still tried to find a reason to warrant such a swat. Maybe the little girl was a terror in the doctor's office. Considering the girl was not in school, she was probably 4 or 5 years old and I find it questionable that delayed punishment would be effective. Consider also that a swat delivered so spontaneously may just well be the preferred method of discipline, which I find questionable as well.

So far, I see the girl getting a swat, become frustrated that my path to the girl is blocked, and I look for intent and a possible pattern. Looking hard at the man and woman again, the woman is getting into the driver's seat of the car, and the man is putting the little girl in the back seat. The girl had not changed her demeanor. She walked between the two as though the swat was just a hitch in her stride. She raised her arms up to be picked up and put in the car with no hesitation. There was no sign that she was upset or crying. Though far from happy about it, I concluded that the girl was OK and in no immediate danger. The light turns green and I drive off stewing in thoughts of yanking that woman's hand and giving that man a good swat on the butt. I repeated again, 'the girl is safe' and with a heavy sigh, went on to think about something else as I continued down the road.

There is nothing that sets me off more than abuse of a child or animal. The fury and anger are incredible. And, once I start to feel that heat, I kick into what I call my "mode". My mind goes blank and focused to a pinpoint, scanning and assessing like an ultra-fast computer. Some sort of switch is flipped on. This switch is immediate in a crisis situation, an ability I came to consciously realize I had while doing preventive casework. My emotions are there, but my thinking is in control. I am able to act on what I'm feeling instead of reacting.

The honesty comes to play when thinking has evaluated the situation logically, which soothes the emotions. It reveals the reality over and above the discomfort of the emotions. It takes the energy away from the idealized shoulds and coulds and subjectivity. The honesty prevents taking the easy way out by escaping or ignoring or indignant self-righteousness. This same honesty is not only a fundamental key to effective assessment of crises, but of self evaluation as well.

Find your switch and pick up those reins. Your driver's seat is waiting.

(Photo courtesy of the Princess's Carriage.)