Thank You Mr. Speedypants

I was driving across Highway 41 on the Central Coast of CA heading east. If you've driven this stretch of road, you know it is a two-lane highway used by anyone going from Highway 5 to San Luis Obispo County. And especially truckers.

Everybody is eager to pass the trucks as they slowly chug up the hills and then speed down the other side as you wind through the hills separating the valley from the Pacific coast. The challenge is that passing zones are sparse. It is not uncommon to have an impatient driver behind you that keeps making movements like they are going to pass. They stick their noses out just far enough to try and see around the big rig in front. And then some take their chance. In fact, it is not uncommon to see crosses memorializing the unsuccessful attempts on this roadway I once heard called "Blood Alley". In fact, all along the route you pass the intersection where a 24-year old actor named James Dean lost control of his sports car and his life on this road in 1955.

So every time I drive it, which is about 6 times a year, I am cautious.

And on this most recent sunny day, I too wanted to pass the trailer truck making its ascent up the first long hill. I knew that just on the other side of the hill was a passing lane with about 5 miles of visibility. So I waited as we crawled up.

But the guy behind me, he could not wait.

He kept creeping out toward the center line to see around me. I could clearly see the coast was not clear for him to make a move as the tension in my shoulders increased.

Then we crested the top of the hill. I could see vehicles approaching far in the distance, leaving enough room for me to easily make my move to pass. I put my foot on the gas and pulled out and around hoping this move would satisfy the impatient driver behind me.

I glanced in the rearview mirror to see if he was following my lead when to my horror, I saw that he had actually started to try and pass us both. It looked like his face was right over my shoulder. And the look I saw on his face was one of a person who was angry and was trying to apply the brake unexpectedly. He fell back into place until I was past the truck and then roared past us both, but when he was alongside me, he and his passenger started honking and making angry gestures to me. He settled in front of me, slowed down quite a bit, and his passenger proceeded to scream and make gestures to me for about half a mile.

My adrenaline and cortisol were high and yes, I, the founder of Navigating Challenging Dialogue®, the person who also advises others to breathe and "put grace in the space", lost it. And proceeded to engage back with my own furious hand signals and gestures.

I knew that I must have looked like a gray-haired woman who'd lost her mind.

I also knew, somewhere in the midst of my emotional hotspot, that yes, I was experiencing an emotional hotspot. And I felt justified.

He and his passenger lost interest in me. And as I was wondering if I should call 911, they actually slowed way down and I moved on to my destination.

As I was doing a workshop a few days later with 80 people, someone raised their hand and said, "This all sounds great and I love it. But isn't it hard to remember all the time?"

I had to tell them the story of how I had gotten sucked into someone else's emotional mess just a few days prior. I also shared that how, upon reflection, I was able to identify that I had made a mistake that I was a little ashamed of and probably greatly contributed to the whole mess on the freeway that day. I did not use my directional to signal to Mr. Speedypants that I was going to pass.

It was in identifying that misstep, one that my partner frequently criticizes me for - inconsistent use of directionals - that I could let go of many of the yucky feelings I was experiencing related to this incident. Even three days later.

I have found in doing this work for over 20 years, that when I am unsettled following an incident like this, I need to consider this question, "What is it that I wish I had done differently?" I could continue to focus on his bad and dangerous behavior, or I can turn the focus to myself and ask, "What is there for me to notice and learn?"

This is the deepest work of NCD. It is about increasing self-awareness, improving emotional self-management, and truly understanding that everyone who shows up in my life is showing up with a lesson for me. Even Mr. Speedypants.

Who is showing up around you and getting under your skin?

Is it possible they aren't there to annoy you but to reflect something to you that you must learn?

I'd love to hear your thoughts.