Ho, That's a Good One on Me!

One of the spiritual writers, whose name I cannot, alas, at the moment remember for sure, save that my wife calls him "Swami Chet," (I think he is "Chetananda") has a saying. When he finds himself in a situation that might piss off ordinary folks like me, instead of getting angry, he laughs, and says, "Ho, that's a good one on me!"

I don't know why that strikes me as so wonderful, but I really, really like it. I've been trying to apply it -- not always with success -- to situations that normally start my pressure cooker roiling.

Today, I went to Costco and loaded up on things like paper towels and toilet paper, which you buy by the ton and have to haul to your car with a forklift, for those of you who have never been in a giant box store.

The Costco aisles are huge, wide enough at this particular store for two big flatbed carts to pass each other with room to spare. And yet, there are people who cannot seem to negotiate such a path with a single wire cart without being able to block the aisle entirely. They seem totally oblivious to the rest of the shoppers, in their own world, unable to notice that a line of people waiting to get past has formed. If you have the temerity to clear your throat and say, "Excuse me," more often than not, they glare at you as if you have just spat upon them.

Who are you to demand passage? they seem to think. Can't you see I'm busy here? That I can occupy as much space as I wish for as long as I desire?

Now that I think about it, it seems that I get behind these people on the road in my car fairly often, too. (If I get more than two cars behind me while I'm in my camper, I feel obligated to pull over and allow them to pass, even if I am traveling at the speed limit.)

Um. Anyway, used to be, I'd just stand there in Costco and steam. Then it came to me that by allowing myself to get irritated, I was essentially giving control of my emotions to an obnoxious stranger so self-centered that she (and I have to say it, they are almost always women) lacks the most basic courtesy most of us learned as children.

So I decided instead to smile, and think, "Ho, that's a good one on me!"

This does two things: First, it amuses me to find amusement where before I would be angry. Second, that big smile and standing close catches their attention, and for some reason, they almost always smile back, and then move -- which is what I want anyhow.

Maybe you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar after all.

Or maybe that big rictus on my face convinces them I might be one of those about-to-run-amok psychotics who plans to start with them.

Either way, I'll take it ...

Next time, I'll talk about the Buddhist precept of "Right Speech." Not that I am a Buddhist, but I do like some of their moral and ethical codes, and this is a neat one for judging one's communcations.