A Short Note on Driving and Anger

Heloise is learning to drive. Today, I sat in the passenger seat as she took to the freeways for the first time. We drove on the 10 and then the 405; we merged and signaled and changed lanes. My daughter has only had her learner’s permit for two weeks, but is already quite skilled and confident.

I have surprised myself by being a fairly calm teacher. My heart rate occasionally climbs, and I pound my right foot on an imaginary brake, but for the most part, I enjoy the bonding time. I admit I also enjoy that she who is fifteen-and-a-half actually listens to me when we’re having our driving sessions. It may be out of necessity rather than desire, but I’ll take it.

At the end of today’s lesson, Heloise parked the Toyota, turned off the engine, and studied her father. "You did better than I thought, papa," she declared. Any dad of teen daughters will recognize that as very special praise indeed.

As for me, I have made several new commitments recently. I am determined to finish all my current writing projects and land at least two new ones in the next two months. I would very much like to live with a little less financial precarity and a lot (or at least a bit) more certainty! I am committed to hitting new personal bests in the gym, to at least one coffee date with a friend a week, and to continuing to show up for my children and my mother.

I still need to figure out what I am going to do with God, or allow Him to do with me.

I am told, quite often, that my distaste for anger and my abhorrence of outrage is a marker of either trauma or privilege. I am prepared to concede that it’s not virtue, but I secretly think there’s something to be said for befriending everyone and refusing to cut ties with people who hold views others find abhorrent. I’ve covered this ground a lot. I’ve got nothing new to say on the subject of civility and manners.

Except this: I am committed to doing everything I can not to annoy or upset another driver on the road. I’ve taken to being scrupulous about every yellow light, every speed limit, every stop sign. I drive thinking, “How can I show a kindness — or at least not create an annoyance — right now?” I don’t drive too slow, or too fast. I let everyone in. I wave and smile.

This is new to me, but so far, I’m doing well.

When walking — and I walk six to eight miles a day in this city — I wait for the crossing signal. It’s not about safety. It’s about sending a signal that I understand that obedience to the rules makes others feel safer and more comfortable. I don’t want to make anyone slam on their brakes, or honk their horn.

My high school driver’s ed instructor, Mr. Lawitzke, said that how you drove revealed your true character. He warned us all never to date or marry people with road rage. “Whatever they say to another driver on the highway, sooner or later they will say to you or your child.” I have found this to be true, but whenever I share this observation, I am met with a great deal of indignation from those who claim to be able to compartmentalize.

What I do know is that if I believe that my job is to make others comfortable, then doing what I can to avoid discomfiting, frightening, or annoying them is my baseline. Where I can be actively kind, like waving someone into my lane, I’ll do it. I do not do this because I am nice, as I don’t think I’m nice. I do it because I am convinced that anger is the worst thing I know, and I must do everything in my power to avoid arousing it or expressing it. And as a pedestrian who walks 200 miles per month and a driver who drives 1500 miles every 30 days, I have ample opportunity to unnerve and exasperate. If I can prevent one person from losing their temper, I will have contributed something.

I already know the critique. You don’t think that anger itself is the problem. You think that anger can be healthy; you believe that people are angry at the wrong things and have not found ways to express that emotion productively. I hear you, but I do not share that view. I will not make you cross by arguing about it. I will simply let you merge into my lane.

Avoiding rage is a discipline, like getting up at 4:00AM to work out or write is a discipline. I’m putting it in writing as much for myself as anything else. If I know you will read it, then I must do my best to live up to it.