When I’m on vacation, I like to get away from everything. The idea is to relax. So, it behooves me to avoid anything that’s going to make me feel anxious or stressed out. (Note to self: while on vacation, definitely avoid a stress-inducer word like “behooves.”) A perfect vacation doesn’t just happen—a little planning is required. You have to know what to pack . . . and what to leave behind. What’s key, at least for me, is to stay as far away as possible from my own opinions.
Two weeks ago, I went on a cruise. A shuttle was going to take us from our hotel to the ship. We went to the hotel lobby at our appointed pick-up time. No shuttle. Fifteen minutes passed. What did I care? We were on vacation. We were told to line up outside. We stood on the sidewalk for another 20 minutes. Still no shuttle. What did I care? We were on vacation. A charter bus eventually showed up. Once we were seated inside, we waited some more in the hotel parking lot, maybe 20-30 minutes. What did I care? We were on vacation.
Some of the passengers on the bus did care about the wait. Their reason? They were on vacation. The long wait was cutting into their good time. A few of them started to complain, and they were the type of people who wanted to be heard. They’re complaining was getting on my nerves, and in my mind, I started complaining about the complainers. My main complaint was that they weren’t enjoying their vacation as much as I was enjoying mine. Though they maintained the same volume when complaining, my hearing was becoming more acute, so that every time they spoke, it sounded louder and louder.
Suddenly I was hit with a bad case of internal dialogue.
“If you don’t like it when people complain, why are you complaining about people who complain?”
“If it’s so easy to stop complaining, why don’t you stop complaining about the complainers right now?”
“As long as you’re complaining about the complainers, you’re no better than they are.”
OK, OK, OK. Enough! Obviously, I wasn’t practicing my religion of relaxation. I can admit it. And it was that admission that got me thinking. Is there a way to “chill” when a loud complainer is in the middle of recruiting and expecting others to join in the chant?
Indeed, there is, and the solution is simple. All I needed to do was count. Not numbers, in the way people count 1, 2, 3 to restore inner peace or bring calm and order to an unruly classroom. The thing to count is people—the cooperators vs the disrupters. There were fifty people on the bus. Only three were making a fuss. Most of the people on that bus were like me—we were the ones keeping our thoughts to ourselves. We way outnumbered the complainers, and for some weird reason, that tally quieted the complainer in me. I realized that so much of my complaining is brought on by distortion. Is everyone in Utah a bad driver? Absolutely not. Maybe one in a thousand. Do I always clean up everybody’s messes? Not even close. Most of the time, it’s a team effort. Do members of my household eat the biggest chips in the bag and leave me with only crumbs? A million times yes! I’ve counted!
Into the Comfort Zone 