Re-Acting vs. Pro-Acting: Choosing To Be Pro-Active In Your Life and Work
Posted on September 01, 2013 by Anne Wotring, One of Thousands of Relationship Coaches on Noomii.
Anne Wotring, PhD, discusses how coaching can help you change your habitual reactions so you can become a more effective and compassionate person.
This past month my husband, Tom, and I had the honor of being guests at a quintessential Irish wedding in the town of Limerick. Driving our rental car into town – already a bit challenging being on the left side shifting gears, we got completely turned around trying to find our hotel. So turned around in fact that Tom actually asked a police officer for directions. Age is serving my 60+ husband well.
Tom got back in the car and related what the officer said: “Follow O’Connell Street about 8 blocks, then left on Mallow. At the park ‘proceed true da gate’ and your hotel is right there.” Tom was getting a kick out of imitating the Irish accents. He’s got the knack for sure.
Well, we got to the park, no problem. It’s your classic, city-block sized green-space, surrounded by a high, ornate, green painted iron fence. We could see huge leafy trees, large rose beds, paths, benches, a tall memorial statue in the center, and a few very small stone buildings. Women with strollers and others ambled along on the paths. The park’s large iron gate opened up onto the intersection of two busy streets that defined the park’s perimeter. The gate appeared slightly wider than our car.
“Are you sure about those directions??” I asked. “This really doesn’t look like a park for cars to drive through.”
“I agree,” Tom replied. “But I’m sure the cop said to ‘drive true da park.’”
Contrary to my normal reaction, I didn’t argue with him… I didn’t offer even a second doubt. I didn’t even have internal ‘I told you so’ in mind to unload later. I just sat back with complete trust and mostly interest in what would unfold.
For those of you who know me, my M.O. is to know the right answer and then to second-guess, question and doubt myself and others. This creates interpersonal tension and arguments. But with mindfulness about my habit, I’ve learned to offer my observations once (or twice if it’s a harmful situation) and then let it be.
Summer before this while traveling in a rental car, I got completely humbled when it was me insisting I knew the way. I got us into a very tight spot – literally – with our car pointed downhill wedged on three sides by high medieval stone walls in a tiny town.
The traffic light changed and, to my surprise, Tom drove forward, crossed the intersection and straight through the gate. I glanced at his profile; he looked resolute and calm. Here we go, I thought.
We approached the first flowerbeds. I watched to see passerby’s reactions. They weren’t really looking at us. We moved ahead slowly, and surely. I began to think that maybe cars do drive through this park. On we went past trees and people. Then ahead we saw the path’s end at a small building with a tiny European delivery truck in front. Clearly no hotel in sight.
We exchanged glances. Tom looked behind us, backed the car around, and retraced our route. As we came out the gate, we saw in front of us our hotel marked by a small sign.
Our story was a sensation for the wedding guests, all of whom had walked through what is called “People’s Park.” Tom concluded that the cop had set him up as entertainment for his fellow officers’ viewing of the crime camera’s recording of some gullible American tourist who actually drove ‘true da park’ at his direction.
I love that through becoming more mindful of my habitual reactions, I can be a more loving companion and friend.
