Everyone on the subway car tensed.
A hulking man had just staggered on at the last stop. He was obviously drunk, and his belligerent behavior was on the edge of turning violent. One passenger, an accomplished martial artist, stood, ready to fight if needed.
Then a thin, quavering voice called out, “Friend, what have you been drinking?” Everyone turned to see a frail old man sitting in the corner, smiling serenely up at the disrupter.
The drunken man towered over the speaker, his face swollen with anger. “Sake!” he bellowed in the old man’s face.
“Ah, that’s a good drink,” the old man said. Then he gestured to the seat beside him. “Come, sit by me, friend, and tell me your troubles.”
Five minutes later, the angry giant lay with his head in the old man’s lap, tearfully pouring out his sorrows as the old man stroked his hair.
I don’t remember where I read that reportedly true story many years ago, but the vivid image never left me. How had the old man diffused a potentially volatile situation so unexpectedly? By looking past the drunken man’s presenting emotion to the one beneath. By focusing on the grief hidden behind the anger. By responding with love and understanding rather than defensiveness and judgement.
Perhaps everything terrible is, in its deepest being, something that needs our love.
rainer maria rilke
In The Emotional Craft of Fiction, author Donald Maass urges writers to surprise readers by looking past their character’s obvious emotions and revealing underlying ones. He says that humans are complex creatures, and skilled authors make the effort to dig deeper for emotional truth.
I’m trying to apply that principle in real life. Learning not to make snap judgements when someone’s less pleasant emotions are on display. Pausing to think about why that young dad might speak harshly to his child (maybe his wife just left him). Why that cashier is coming across rude and disengaged (she just heard she was being laid off). Why that elderly man is staring into space while blocking the grocery aisle with his cart (his wife of fifty-six years just died).
Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.
ian maclaren
A few years ago, I was walking through a park in Sacramento CA when a man standing on the sidewalk began yelling unintelligibly. People streamed by, ignoring him. Given the rate of mental illness among the city’s homeless population, the incident was unfortunately not uncommon. But something about this man seemed different to me. I walked over and asked him what was wrong. He said he’d just been discharged from the hospital and didn’t know where he was or how to get home. He wasn’t actually angry—he was scared. My wife and I hired a Lyft to take him home.
As the car pulled away, a man nearby asked me what had happened. After I explained the situation, he said, “You know if more of us took the time to do things like that, we wouldn’t need so many social programs.”
You’ve probably seen enough of life to know that all such situations aren’t resolved so easily. People and circumstances are complex. But you can learn to recognize the inner emotion behind the outer one. Respond to the fear lurking beneath your father’s anger. React to the insecurity cowering behind your coworker’s arrogance. Acknowledge the depression covered by your friend’s apathy. And like the old man on the subway, choose to respond with love. If you do, the world will be a better place, and you’ll take another step toward Becoming Yourself.
This post was originally published Jan 8, 2022.
