Consideration

I don’t think of myself as a particularly considerate person. In fact, I tend to think of myself as somewhat self-absorbed and am sure I have written here about the fact that my world revolves around, well… me.

I recently felt nothing but relief when I quit a volunteer gig I had been involved in for 2 ½ years. Though it involved only 2-3 hours out of my (uneventful) week, I felt put-upon as Wednesday night rolled around each week.

So, it comes as a surprise when I find myself the most helpful person in the room.

Some recent instances have compounded oft-thought feelings about the world we live in today, where people pay little attention to those around them.

I catch express buses to and from my workplace each day which stop only at the beginning and end of the journey. Over the past two weeks – school holidays – there have been two occasions when an unsuspecting traveler gets on, presses the bell to get off and then wonders why the bus doesn’t stop for them. On neither occasion did anyone on the bus provide any insight to the novel commuters. I waited to see if anyone intervened, but eventually on both occasions I had to… wandering down the aisle past my indifferent ‘regulars’ to the hapless newcomers . The first time – on a trip into the city – the young woman looked embarrassed and thanked me and shrank down into her seat. The second time we had only just commenced when a woman pressed the bell. After I informed her it was an express bus and we didn’t stop for quite some time she looked crestfallen. I suggested she go up to the driver who might be sufficiently sympathetic to stop and let her off. Fortunately for her, the driver was, and did. I was already thinking of commitments I had on arriving home and whether I had time to drive this woman back to where she needed to go in the event the driver didn’t stop for her.

On another trip home this week, the bus I was traveling on temporarily broke down. Despite the wet miserable weather, a number of people alighted early rather than wait for the bus to restart. Those of us remaining noticed that a guy left his bag on board. Everyone sat around shrugging, leaving it to me to venture out into the wet night and run after the passenger to give him his bag.

My role at work requires me to coordinate work on behalf of a large group within a government department. One afternoon this week we received an urgent request for a range of briefing papers for our Minister who was traveling the next day. I knew that the regional office involved had already struggled to prepare briefs and were short-staffed. I knew that this last-minute request with a short turnaround time would stress them out tremendously. So before I forwarded it onto them I offered to do part of the work for them – despite knowing nothing about the actual content of the briefing notes. This wasn’t a big deal for me, as I enjoy writing and I had other documentation on the same issue from which I could cut and paste. We were easily able to turn the request around within the two-hour period we were given.

But the appreciation I received from our regional office was astounding. Today one of the officers was (here) in town and said to me that it was the first time that anyone (in head office I assume she meant) had offered to pitch in and do some of the work for them. This surprised me. My lack of content knowledge about our business prevents me from being as helpful as I would like (and I AM supposed to be helpful in my current job). I tend to think of this as a failing, so was surprised again to think that I was the first person to try to make their life easier!

I write this now because, just an hour or so ago I traveled home from work. The bus was late – but this was nothing new. As we boarded the driver chirpily told us it was his first day and asked us to bear with him. I groaned inwardly, knowing what this would mean. The impatient-control-freak-with-ridiculously-high expectations in me knew that this would mean a slower-than-usual trip home – the last thing I wanted at the end of the week.

No sooner had we started when he was in trouble. He pulled up at almost every stop in the city, not sure where the bus was to officially stop. I watched as he pulled out his itinerary and tried to look at the numbers on the bus stops – almost impossible to see in the dark evening. I was near the back of the bus and waited for someone to volunteer to help the driver. No one did. So I moved towards the front and initially offered some advice to gauge whether he would be offended. He wasn’t. I made sure I joked that we commuters do the trip every day so should be expected to know it like the back of our hands, but that he didn’t have that same advantage. So I become his own personal GPS and was able to tell him where we stopped next, which lane to be in and when we had to turn.

I had planned to zone out listening to the latest music I downloaded (this week’s faves are Rob Thomas’ Her Diamonds and Beyonce’s Sweet Dreams) but obviously I had to return my music to my bag to assist the driver. In true self-absorbed-over-analysing-me-style I questioned myself to see if I felt any resentment at missing out on my usual transition ritual between work and home. I didn’t. And in fact I felt guilty when I got off the bus as the driver would be ‘on his own’ for the final part of the trip.

I realise that I am overly sensitive to others. This is a good and bad thing. While I may be more perceptive to others’ feelings, it also means I am a people-pleaser (http://rockafellaskank.blogspot.com/2009/05/deadly-sins-envy-and-people-pleasing.html) with my own behaviour reflecting others’ responses rather than (sometimes) being true to myself.

But this latest incident got me thinking about people’s lack of consideration for their fellow world-passengers. Despite my sensitivity to others, I suspect I am a fairly selfish person, which is why it worries me that I have been finding myself the most considerate person ‘in the room’. What does that say about everyone else?