My turn to get it wrong

This is one of the eight salamanders I saw in the forest earlier this week!

My last post was about how traffic exemplifies our interconnectedness as human beings, and encouraged compassion on those parts of the traffic (and ourselves) that cause us difficulties. This afternoon it was my turn to be one of those difficult parts.

I accidentally drove the wrong way down an aisle of a shopping centre car-park and was confronted by the incandescent rage of a motorist coming in the opposite (correct) direction. In my defense, I had someone with reduced mobility in the car with me and was focused on finding a spot near the entrance – so when I spotted one, I turned in, not realising it meant I was breaking the rules. I was shocked by the violence of the other driver’s reaction, firstly because my misdemeanour didn’t impact upon them directly and secondly because their anger was so out of proportion to the gravity of my crime. I didn’t immediately react to the screaming, scowling and fist-shaking, because in the moment I was mostly curious about what this person was really angry about. However, I was shaken up enough to subsequently drive over a bollard when reversing into a less convenient parking spot.

It just goes to show how much damage can result from choosing to believe the worst about another person and acting on it. As for me, I am going to get myself a cup of tea and try to calm down. Let’s hope the insurance company will deal with the rest of the damage.

Psychotherapy and inconsiderate drivers

I love spiders. This one seemed to be suspended in mid-air. If your eyesight is good, you might be able to see her web.

I’ve just returned from a five-day road trip all the way up through France and into the North of England. Thankfully there wasn’t much traffic, but there were those inevitable stretches of roadworks where everything slows down as three lanes go into two… and those infuriating drivers who, rather than considerately changing lane as soon as reasonably possible, speed along the disappearing lane and force themselves in at the very last opportunity.

As we were driving along the Paris ring road (a half-hour detour, due to over-reliance on Google maps), I pondered the fact that although traffic is comprised of many different vehicles, it behaves like an entire organism. Each individual car is impacted by the rest – someone brakes suddenly in heavy traffic, and the ripple effect causes cars further back to come to a complete standstill.

This made me think of the Internal Family Systems Model approach to psychotherapy. This sees the mind as being comprised of multiple parts, each with a distinct subpersonality. Let me introduce you to some of mine: Judge Judy, Busy Beryl, and Anxious Audrey. Each of these subpersonalities means well, but they aren’t always helpful and can sometimes be downright counterproductive. The aim is to get to a point where, rather than resenting or struggling with parts of yourself, you can see them for what they are and bring the mind back into balance.

Back to the Paris ring road. When a car committed the aforementioned sin of racing ahead and pushing in, for a brief moment I could see it as a broken, wounded part of the whole traffic, with which I also identified, and rather than get angry with it, I felt compassion. Yes, the driver was behaving badly, but there could be all manner of reasons for why they had developed this behaviour as a coping strategy for life.

This sense of being part of a larger whole also made me think of Paul’s writing in 1 Corinthians 12:12-27 about the concept of the body of Christ. Despite the culture we swim in emphasizing our individuality and personal agency, in many ways we are profoundly connected to each other. What a difference it would make to our world if we could all recognise this!