Posted April 17
At IKEA a few years ago. A woman in a car makes her obligatory stop in front of the pedestrian crossing which leads to the entrance of the store. Behind her, a man in a truck yells at her. “Move forward, cursed one, forward! Aweye! »
I will censor here the rest of the diatribe which I witnessed, I would not have enough space to write it in full, and then it was of an unspeakable violence and vulgarity. Was this man so excited to go assembling Kallaxes and Ivars that motorists ahead of him had to break the law and run over pedestrians to accommodate him? Had he eaten a Swedish meatball the wrong way? Did he believe that having a heart attack, blinded by rage, would get him home faster to relax? We’ll never know.
I recently wrote a text about courtesy1. As a result, I was asked the same question several times: how do you become more courteous? I felt the trap and I got out of it as best I could; I don’t have the solution, I’m not an exemplary citizen and above all I’m not a lecturer. Want to be more courteous? Do as you wish. Do what you can. I can’t do anything to help you!
Good… Nevertheless, it made me think, and I wondered about the times when I myself lacked courtesy. I found the common factor in all situations: I was in a hurry.
I leave for a meeting at the last minute and suddenly everyone around me becomes a stressor: the three teenagers with their school bags that take up the entire width of the sidewalk, the old man who walks too slowly and who doesn’t see that I want to pass him, the two young women chatting side by side on the stairs of the metro, the other rummaging through his bag in search of his Opus card blocking the way to the ticket office, squeeze in get out of my way!
In this completely banal example, if I was in a hurry, it was entirely my fault. After all, it’s me who decides what time I have to leave to arrive in time for an appointment. Incidentally, I am also the editor of Life is not a race, a fabulous little book by Léa Stréliski whose title speaks for itself. It gives me a little pressure to follow the advice she gives there, let’s say.
She wouldn’t be proud of me if she saw me walking down the street, irritated because there are people in my way. “No need to run, there’s nothing to gain,” I hear him say to myself.
If I let myself go, I could become that bug-eyed guy screaming in the IKEA parking lot. Which does not seem to me to be a good example to follow. I don’t want to die for stress that I invent for myself.
So I did a little exercise. The next time, I left earlier. I had time to waste my time, and my environment was no longer populated by irritating people blocking my path. They were people who, like me, were going about their business, going somewhere, had not been put on Earth to harm me. I had free time to pick up a coffee on the way, to hold the door of a business for a young father who was trying to enter with a child, a stroller and three bags in his arms, snow pants between his teeth. If someone had been caught on the ice with his car, maybe I would even have helped him by pushing him, at the risk of getting dirty and hurting myself! Having time made me oddly lovable. I believe that if I had left even earlier, I would have started throwing $20 bills at passers-by while singing serenades to them.
Yes, OK, I’m probably exaggerating a bit.
It’s that courtesy doesn’t come naturally to me. But it’s more likely to exist when I take the time to let it come to life, between two deep breaths. In the car, when I’m not in a hurry, I’m much more tolerant of the pedestrian who didn’t see that his light was red and who crosses in front of me slowly, without seeing me, because he’s on a videoconference on his phone. . Go ahead, boy. Do some big business while I miss my green light. I have plenty of time, I have music, I’m relaxed and in a good mood. I might even warn you that you’re about to fall into a huge pothole. Oops…too late.