coffee cup

It’s not what happens to you, but how you react to it …

As Monday’s go, it didn’t particularly get off to the best start.

Nothing huge happened, no great calamity or disastrous catastrophe, nothing major to report at all really. Yet not so long ago the day’s events would quite probably have set the tone for my whole week ahead – but not this time.

Firstly, I overslept. I had been feeling under the weather, the infernal rain that had poured down on us for weeks, but which felt like it had graced us with its cold and wet presence for years, was in no rush to clear and my body was slowly giving into it. I had been up throughout the night, coughing and spluttering and by the time morning arrived, I wasn’t feeling at my best.

So, when I did finally wake up from my unsettled slumber, it was one big rush to get out. Through my own fault, a birthday gift that had been left until the last minute to get and also the return of an impulsive buy of clothes that had shown promise on the rail, but turned out to be more of a disappointing bout of wishful thinking meant that I had jobs to get on with that just couldn’t wait for any kind of recovery

So, I set off to the local shopping village. Wrapped up against the wind and rain in my favourite crimson scarf to warm my throat and lift my mood, the gift I was going to purchase locked in my mind and the receipts for the clothes I had to return safely tucked away in my bag.

It was when I was over halfway there that I realised the receipts may well have been with me… but that I had left the clothing to be returned hung on the back of a dining chair, waiting patiently to be bagged.

I’m sure we’ve all been there (haven’t we?) when there comes a point on any journey where you have to weigh up if it’s worth the time and effort to go back home for forgotten items or whether to just continue onwards.

It was definitely a get out and get it done kind of day, so with a weak, slightly irritated laugh at my forgetfulness I decided that I could always go back later in the week, when the weather was friendlier, and I was feeling better. Onwards it was.

Battling the elements, I successfully bought the gift I was after and with my only other task thwarted, I decided to dry off with a well-deserved coffee in the local coffee shop.

Unfortunately, everyone else had the same idea. It was busy and service was slow, but I was on a promise of 25% off the price of a large Americano with oat milk, and there was no way I was walking away from that, so I stuck with it.

Eventually reached the counter, placed my order and attempted to pay. And it was here that my 3rd minor irritation of the day unveiled itself. My loyalty card has never declined its services before, but today for some unknown reason it was adamant that I wasn’t going to get my discounted treat.
After a few minutes of trying and with signs of growing restlessness in the queue behind me and the card still quite clearly saying no, I coughed up (not literally) the asking price. I smiled at the barista. Annoying, but not a problem - it was only a coffee after all.

Epictetus

I settled down in a comfy chair. And it was here that I encountered my 4th, slightly more annoying Monday mishap.

For I was halfway through my cuppa, when an older lady squeezed by me to get to the recently vacated table by the window. I assumed it may have been a favourite table of hers as there were other clean and cleared tables around us vacant and this one was full of dirty cups and plates. But she walked with intention, she knew where she was headed and was on a mission to get to it.

This of course wasn’t a problem; everyone loves a favourite table or chair. However, within moments I became aware of a cup and plate being placed in front of me on my table. This was followed by another and then another and before I knew it, four empty cups, their saucers plus a small plate containing the leftover crusty mouthful of a croissant had filled my space.

The lady had literally cleared all the dirty crockery from her table and had loaded it on to mine. She didn’t look at me once. There was no surreptitious look in my direction, no apologetic or for that matter confrontational or even challenging glance. She simply continued to pile them up in front of me.

It was as if I wasn’t there.

Once her table was completely cleared, she then proceeded to spread her newspaper open in front of her and sip her cuppa as she settled down, totally engrossed in her read.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering what I said, how did I go about stopping her and was it a very heated argument that must surely have followed?

Actually, I said nothing.

Some may argue that I should have stopped her, or at least kindly suggested that she placed them all on an unoccupied table, but I must admit, I was a little bit fascinated and actually more than slightly amused by her actions. After all, it’s not every day that you become completely invisible.

At one stage, I looked around me to see if anyone else was watching the show. The man at the neighbouring table was, and with eyebrows up by his hairline and a bewildered grin he, rather comfortingly I felt, uttered a silent and supportive “wow!”.

I could have made a fuss, caused a scene, raised the blood pressure of both of us, but I decided not to. I finished my coffee, banked the whole experience as the funny, if slightly strange story that it was, wrapped myself up in my coat, and stepped out of the café.

And promptly left my favourite crimson scarf on the back of the chair behind me.

red scarf

Not so long ago, five unfortunate mishaps and little setbacks occurring within the space of a small handful of hours would have once had my tail in a spin. Annoyance and irritation would have flooded through my veins, and I would have accepted without question that it was clearly going to be one of those weeks which was probably only going to get worse.

And sure enough, it probably would have. Psychologists call it confirmation bias. I would have unconsciously looked out for all the other moments of slight misfortune, taken all the external events that didn’t go the way I wanted them to and bundled them up in a tidy package that said - I could tell this was going to be a bad week.

However, with all the crazy things happening in our world right now, much of it beyond our control, and with anger flowing through what would appear to be many areas of most societies, on this occasion I consciously chose not to sweat the small stuff.

Nothing disastrous happened. The coffee shop staff kept my scarf for me, which I collected on my second visit later in the week when my loyalty card felt more inclined to say yes and awarded me my discounted coffee. I was able to return the clothing and get my refund and with some rest and a little tender loving care, my cold was on its way out and I was already feeling so much better.

By not reacting like it was all just one big catastrophe that was obviously going to ruin my whole week ahead, I found myself able to act as an observer rather than a victim. I was able to see the funny side, and honestly – I found it quite calming and incredibly liberating.

To feel in control of my reaction, to intentionally choose not to respond angrily, get exasperated, or react with anything other than amusement, but to just let it go, felt a bit like a power move. Will I be able to be calm and in control when the next day that doesn’t go exactly to plan shows up? Who knows … but I’m definitely going to try, because it felt good to just accept that a run of events is simply life just happening, that people can be rude, and a little bit strange, and that we are allowed to be forgetful at times.

And yet … it still didn’t stop me from driving back home very, very carefully.

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