“Saturday night is probably not the best night to go for a run on that route”.
That was the first thing I said to my wife after I returned from an evening run. I felt a little cooped up during the day and thought that a brief run would help me feel a bit better. What I didn’t take into account was the day of the week nor the time of the day. When it’s night, I will run where there is enough light to do so safely, and this just to happens to take me past the local tavern.
As I approached it this particular night I noticed an older woman leaving it and walking the same direction that I was headed, she was noticeable swaying as she went. I gave her a wide berth as I passed her on the footpath and then stopped to let a car leave the car park, before jogging off again. My new headphones have noise cancellation, which I am loving, but I could still hear someone calling out. I assumed it was coming from the car that just left, but the sound stayed as the car got further away. Finally, I looked behind me and the swaying woman was chasing after me, screaming. I thought she may be in trouble, so I stopped to see what was wrong.
“I’m not going to let you walk past my complex. I am barring you from walking past my complex!” She yelled as she walked past me in an attempt to block my path, continuing her barrage, complete with excess saliva.
“It’s a footpath, I’m just going for a run” I said, but it was not use, she would have none of it and was committed to stopping me in my tracks. Realising that it was no use to engage, I said “I’m going now” and slipped past her to continue on my way and the noise cancellation covered the screams and yells as I left her behind.
My path was a loop and brought me back around to that exact spot a few minutes later and I was a little wary and a tiny bit jumpy when I came back but she was nowhere to be seen. Hopefully she made it safely back to her complex, maybe watching me with wary eyes. Maybe passed out from consuming too much of whatever she had.
The following day I was talking to a friend about this interaction and my seven year old listened in and asked a few questions. (My patience for my seven year olds questions when I am talking with another adult can be a little thin, but I still talked with him about it.)
7yo: “What did she want from you daddy?”
Me: “She wanted me to stay away from her home, even though I was on the footpath where everyone is allowed to be”
7yo: “Why did she do that daddy?”
Me: “Well, I think she may have had too much alcohol and thought I was someone else.”
7yo: “Maybe something happened to her.”
And there it was. The most profound, generous and thoughtful response I had heard for a while. And most likely true. I don’t know the trauma or pain that this women had experienced. I don’t know what life had dished up for her, but it is likely that there was something troubling that was going on for her in that moment.
I hope that my seven year old will take that mentality with him for the rest of his life, to look past people’s behaviour and see the hurt that is motivating that behaviour. Because really, everyone has had something happen to them, and being able to recognise that, whilst is doesn’t excuse how people behave, and try to understand it even a little bit, is a great act of generosity.
It’s easy to judge. It’s generous to try and understand.
The Generosity Guy 