I'm Sorry

The other day,  I took four bags of fabrics and old shoes to the Fabric Recycling Center at the green market, held each week at the Grand Army Plaza.  As I was crossing the street, one of my bags bumped the bag of a woman who was walking in the opposite direction.  “Hey!” she called out, as if I had assaulted her.  I walked a few paces forward before turning around.   She had walked forward too, but she was looking at me over her shoulder, an aggrieved expression on her face.  “I’m sorry,” I said. She said nothing in reply.  So I turned around and continued my walk.

But why did I apologize?  Both her bag and my bags bumped each other.  I was no more responsible than she was.  Still, I apologized, hoping perhaps to mollify her.  After all, her feelings were hurt and if I could make her feel better, why not do so?  Life is hard enough without our making it more difficult for others.  And if we can lighten another’s load, we should, even if the load is of the other’s making, even if the other’s grievance is unjustified.

This is what I rationalized after the fact, although in truth, nothing like that was in my mind when I said “I’m sorry.”  As I thought about the interaction, I wondered if I’m not overly accommodating, overly deferential. I note, for example, that I tend to move slightly to the side when I’m walking in Prospect Park if I see someone running in my direction, so that the runner can continue running in a straight line.  Why shouldn’t he move to the side instead?  Why shouldn’t I be able to continue walking in a straight line?  I have no answer.

But, hey, at 80 am I going to transform myself into a more aggressive person, a man  who would, in response to that aggrieved woman’s “hey,” say “lighten up, lady” or “what’s the matter with you?”  It’s not going to happen.  Besides, I tell myself, I’ve gotten along pretty well the way I am, without sharp elbows, without, in fact, even normal assertiveness.  Had I been more hard-edged, would I have done as well?  Who knows? 

A famous psychoanalyst once claimed to be able to diagnose patients by watching them walk behind a screen that showed only their legs from the knee down to their feet.  His point was that people’s behavior is consistent, whether they’re walking behind a screen or apologizing for a collision not of their sole making.  I'm not sure what this says about my psyche, but what the hell, at 80 I'll do as I please.  I'll keep moving out of the way of runners and apologizing when it's not my fault.  And I'll stop worrying about it.


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