When Howard left the house, there were still two hours before the kids were due home from school. Even better, I had already gotten all my business tasks for the day done. I could feel my brain stretching out, relaxing. It was a chance for me to do whatever I wanted without being on call. I could be alone with my thoughts and perhaps even write.
Then the phone rang. The noise was almost a physical sensation. It cut across my developing calmness.
The call was from Kiki’s school. She was having cramping pain and I was needed to go retrieve her. My first thought upon hanging up was a wordless irritation. In one stroke my quiet space was gone. It was particularly regretted because it is the last opportunity for alone time before the kids are home for five days. But duty called and I got into the car.
Being in the car reminded me of the conversation I’d had with Kiki just that morning. Kiki was complaining because Gleek had the front seat. Gleek had displaced Kiki from the copilot spot because Gleek injured her knee over the weekend and the knee hurts when she bends it. This injury did not impress Kiki who was convinced that Gleek was exaggerating to get attention. I turned to Kiki and said
“You’re just irritated because the injury inconvenienced you. If you still had the front seat, you wouldn’t mind it.”
My statement floated through my brain as I drove. It was now Kiki who was in pain and I was the one irritated. The tables had turned and I had a chance to find myself hypocritical or to choose to let go of the irritation. I’d scolded Kiki for her lack of sympathy. Now I had to do better and I discovered that it was not so easy.
I frequently find myself inconvenienced by other people’s pain. My day can be completely rearranged by an illness, or a sadness, or an injury. I can choose to be irritated and angry. If I do, some of that anger spills onto the injured person, as if it is somehow their fault. Obviously the better way is to reach inside myself and find sympathy. I must let go of my schedule and know that, inconvenient or not, I should respond with kindness to the needs of others. This is true even if my response is “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to take care of that yourself.”
Kiki is home from school now. As I expected, her presence here has already presented multiple interruptions to my quiet state of mind. And yet, I am still writing. I am finding the calm spaces in between the needs and it is good.