Solstice Intensity

I had quite an unexpected and emotionally fraught ‘moment’ in a grocery store parking lot today. Nothing like celebrating the Winter Solstice with intensity, I say.

I was checking my text messages and emails before running in for a few items, when all of a sudden a grocery cart rammed into my car door. The loud whomp, which physically jarred me and felt like it surely had dented the entire side of my car, scared the heck out of me. Then, in an eye-blink, that fear turned to rage.

I jumped out of my car (there were two empty handicapped spaces to my left, and beyond those, the driving lanes and then the market itself) furiously looking for the culprit who’d carelessly sent the cart careening into my vehicle. Let me note here: I’m expressing how I felt, which might generously be called…hyperbolic?

Anyway, as I say, I jumped out of my car looking for my transgressor. The only person I saw anywhere near me was an older man who had parked his car facing mine, but one space to my left. His car was pulled up to a handicapped-only parking sign which was affixed to a substantial metal pole about 4” in diameter and 4’ high. I glimpsed him as he was folding himself into his driver’s seat.

Assessment of the Situation Made

I immediately surmised that he’d shoved his cart into the space in front of his car (and beside mine), perhaps thinking it might get hung up or wedged in place by the parking sign pole, obviously not thinking twice about the consequences. I assumed the worst.

I knew he’d heard the cart smack into my door. It created a very loud bang. And the way he was getting into his car, he just looked guilty to me. Like he was avoiding making eye contact.

With barely a thought, other than a consuming wave of indignation and the sense that I was not going to just pretend it hadn’t happened, I grabbed the cart and looking directly at that man, who by this time was sitting in the driver’s seat and looking at me through his windshield, shouted how ignorant that was. “What the hell? What is wrong with you that you think it’s OK to do that?” I yelled, not really looking for an answer. I slammed the cart into the parking sign post in front of him. While I was tempted in my fury to smack it into his car, I didn’t. Obviously.

I could see him yelling – or at least mouthing – something back at me, but his angry face made me not want to get into this any further. So I sat back in my car and tried to decide whether I just wanted to leave or whether I would fulfill my marketing mission. I decided to go in.

Moving On

Watching him out of the corner of my eye, I deliberately took the cart from where it still stood ‘parked’ against the post and walked across the lanes of the parking lot and into the store. I noticed he was still sitting in his car, looking down, perhaps texting someone himself? I didn’t trust him…

Entering the store, I snagged my hot peppers (which in retrospect I probably didn’t need!) and onions and returned to my car. A quick trip.

Nevertheless, I thought it odd that he was still in the parking lot. Was he going to confront me? Ugh.

I left the offending cart up with the other carts beside the entrance to the market and returned to my car. Feeling a little stalked, I glanced toward the man with a dirty look, warding off any bullshit. No luck. He opened his door and started yelling at me.

Confrontation

I’d already started getting into my car when he started yelling, so I tossed my veggies into the passenger seat and stood up, turning toward him. All I heard was, “…your fucking car…”

“Excuse me?” I said, dripping snark and attitude, but trying to be the calm one (now).

“Did you think I pushed that cart into your car?” he demanded.

I turned to look at him square in the eyes and said quietly, “Well, yes, I did.”

He looked a little surprised, perhaps that I answered quietly? I don’t know. But he responded, still defensively and a bit aggressively himself, “Well, I didn’t. I heard it hit your door and – ”

“I am really sorry,” I said, interrupting him. There was something about the way he said what he said or the look on his face or something, but I immediately believed him. And I immediately and unequivocally felt ashamed. I felt awful.

A Total Shift in Energy and Attitude

Absolutely everything about this man’s energy shifted right before my eyes. I could tell he believed me, too, and trusted my sincerity.

“Yes,” I continued, “I assumed you’d done it because you were the only person anywhere around when I jumped out to grab the cart.”

By this time, I’d walked over to his car, where he had the door slightly open and his window down, his left hand resting on the bottom of the window frame.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I returned my little cart over there,” gesturing to the cart return coral in the row across from and behind his car, “and was just getting into my car when I heard that one slam into your door.”

“I am so terribly sorry,” I repeated, touching his hand. “I was a jerk. I really was. I think the bang of it startled me so much that I over-reacted, and then I just assumed you hadn’t cared because my car is old…”

“No, I didn’t do it,” he repeated, probably just confirming out loud one more time what he’d been saying to himself the whole time I was in the market. “But thank you for speaking to me.”

“Thank you, too,” I said. “Again, I’m really sorry.” I looked him in the eyes and smiled. “I hope you have a really nice holiday and I’m glad we cleared this up.”

“Me too,” he said, smiling back.

Reflection – and Gratitude

As I drove away from that incident I contemplated how the entire situation had completely transformed in a way I never would have expected.

I’m so grateful it did. I have no idea what that man was thinking or experiencing. Perhaps he is lonely, or grieving. Perhaps he is facing a dire diagnosis – or someone he loves was just taken from him.

I thought about the compassion of yesterday and how quick I was to anger today. (Which, I have to say, was really weird in and of itself. I am not one to usually react like that.) It made me realize just how little we know about how anyone, at any given moment, is perceiving something that we, too, are experiencing. And how easily it is to misunderstand – or be misunderstood.

I’m so grateful this gentleman and I were able to transmute that moment of darkness and turn it into light.

An intense solstice experience indeed – probably exacerbated by the full moon!

(T-1071)