I try to exercise patience. To accommodate that driver in front of me who is still stopped at the green light. To demonstrate gracious compassion to the person in front of me who is possibly distracted, new to driving, overly safe, or perhaps, so old that they can barely see over the steering wheel after years of shrinkage.
But I must confess, I fail often, and I’m quick to lay heavy on my horn and honk my frustration into the world around me. And when I say quick, I mean almost instantaneously. Like as soon as the light turns green, I wait maybe ten seconds (most of the time much less), and then I’m pounding on my horn like a contestant on Jeopardy smashing their buzzer, so they can answer the useless trivia question that was just asked by Alex Trebek.
I’m quite rude at the stop lights. Guilty as charged.
Funny thing is, I’m not even in a hurry. I’m not running late. I’m not racing off to some family emergency. Truth be known, I’m always 30 minutes early to work, so what the hell is wrong with me? Am I really wound that tight? And if I am, what is the source of such great impatience?
About 6 months ago, my husband and I suffered a tragedy (which I will tell you all about at another time), and my doctor ran a full blood panel on me. Their diagnosis was that I was suffering from chronic stress. So much so, that I’m experiencing adrenal fatigue, which is having adverse effects on my body and my health, both physical and mental (it impacts my sleep all the time). It was so bad that I was prescribed meditation 3 times a week.
Wrap your heads around that.
Meditation as a prescription.
This, along with 14 separate vitamins, is supposed to help my body and mind recuperate, and perhaps even heal itself. I’ve been diligent in adhering to the prescriptions given to me, although, I don’t meditate the prescribed number of times each week. Shame on me, I know.
What I have been doing is trying to be self-aware, and recognize of those times when I feel the stress creeping over me, stop lights being one of those instances. I’m getting much better about my obsessive honking, and I’ve seen a marked improvement. Yet I still feel the stress of it. But I think the fact that I’m able to recognize it is starting to help me in a positive way.
Self-recognition of one’s own short-comings or issues is the first step to improving. Right? My hope is that a year from now, I can erase ‘stop lights’ from the list of things that drive me insane. Maybe one day, I will be able to say that I am not a chronic honker anymore.