This morning, I had to go into my local school with my son. He’s enrolled in summer school to catch up on some work he had to miss during the last trimester. It was the culmination of a chain of many little frustrations. For one reason or another, the right hand of school staff didn’t know what the left hand was doing.
As I talked with the ladies helping me, I was grateful to (hopefully) settle the confusion around my son’s requirements. I relaxed in the knowledge he once again had access to the online tools he needed to pass. Yet, as I walked back out to my car, I couldn’t help but look at the time on my phone. It had taken me 28 minutes to settle an issue that I already had thought was settled multiple times. A big part of me was frustrated and angry.
Individually, no biggie, collectively, a problem
By itself, 28 minutes isn’t a ton of time. I can move past it, and I know life isn’t perfect and, therefore, requires some degree of flexibility. The trouble is, people often encounter many of these little frustrations, not just one. Over the course of the day, they might lose not minutes, but hours. Many times, as a freelance writer, I’ve had to dramatically rearrange or completely trash project plans because little frustrations stole the time I thought I’d have. I’ve learned not to expect the ideal productivity as a result.
This type of accumulation robs people of the small windows they have left for relaxation and connection. But it’s also a negative in that each frustration is like a straw being loaded onto the camel’s back.
How many little frustrations can a person carry before the collective weight of the load becomes capable of breaking them?
You don’t know when someone has too many little frustrations to carry, so be kind
The answer to the above question depends on many variables. Good examples include the support system you have and whether your background has afforded you sufficient tools and strategies for managing stress. But the idea of death by a thousand tiny cuts is a serious one. And the larger thought is, as we work and try to be loving to each other, it’s important to understand that, at any moment, a person might be handed the last few ounces they can bear. If someone reacts in what seems like an extreme way, we should be mindful that they are dealing not with a single straw, but many. It’s just that we don’t see the majority of the load most of the time.
If you’ve ever seen the cult classic film Office Space, you might recognize Milton as the ideal example of this. Milton is a good (albeit shy and rather squirrely) worker who gets mistreated in a myriad of ways throughout the movie. At one point, management relegates him to the basement of his company building. They turn the lights off on him because no one even considers that he’s there. But finally, Milton can’t take it anymore and burns down the business. This isn’t to say that what he did was right, but rather to say that those around him might have noticed Milton’s distress if they’d only genuinely paid attention and made an attempt not to make his life worse.
Yes, each of us still has to take personal accountability. It is often not the fault of others if they aren’t aware of what we carry. We still are obligated to treat people well even when we are facing legitimate problems.
But in the opposite direction, it’s a loving thing to try to avoid putting more weight on others to begin with. If we constantly check the accessibility and integrity of necessary tools, create systems of checks and balances, communicate often and with truth, anticipate potential hardships or confusions, and ask questions, we can do better.
Image credits:
Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay
OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay