I’m in a crowded Trader Joe’s parking lot, trying to find a parking space. Other cars are slowly schooling around. Shoppers with bags and carts are crossing the pavement.
It’s the kind of situation that could trigger impatience. But, instead, my brain generates a better interpretation: We all have to share the space.
My mind expresses this thought calmly, with a positive tone, and I feel good. Peaceful. The truth of this thought sinks in: The communal spaces of our world exist to be shared.
Minutes later, I’m the store, navigating the aisles with my cart. Other shoppers are doing the same, each of us focused on fulfilling our own grocery lists. In the produce section, the items I want are blocked by another person and their cart, an elderly man who is taking his sweet time. It’s okay, I think, we all have to share the space.
Driving home, there’s traffic. Someone’s struggling to make a right turn out of a parking lot, and I have the right of way, but I let them in, thinking again, we all have to share the space.
And then it hits me: I’ve been getting this wrong.
It’s not that we have to share the space. It’s that we get to share the space.
If it weren’t for other people, there’d be no such thing as a grocery store. Such a wonder only makes sense in a crowded world. Likewise, no one would have built the streets I’m driving on if there weren’t plenty of drivers to use them.
If it weren’t for other people, the places I want to go either wouldn’t exist or wouldn’t be accessible. Those people aren’t in my way. They’re essential.
When the ski lift line is long, I’ll try to remember that nobody would build a ski lift for just me to use.
If the concert I’m attending is uncomfortably crowded, I’ll try to remember that I wouldn’t get to see my favorite band play at all if other people didn’t want to come to the show.
When I’m frustrated by how tiny our kitchen is, I’ll try to remember how lucky I am to share this space with my wife.
Realizing that it’s a privilege to share the space transforms something I have to do into something I get to do.
The other people – the very same ones who are “in my way” – are a blessing.