Brilliant … But Bouncy

The Zax Never Did Budge.

I was driving through a crowded parking lot when I was forced to stop. There was a driverless car in front of me, with the driver-side door open, blocking my path.

I had to wait for the driver to return to his/her car if I wanted to move forward. I wasn’t in a terrific hurry and, since the door was open, I assumed it wouldn’t be more than a couple of minutes.

I had enough time to consider my options, and probably too much time to think and get increasingly frustrated. But a few minutes later, a woman got into the driver’s seat, closed her door … and just sat there.

Next to the car was an area where she could have pulled over to the side, and I could have moved forward. But she didn’t move.

And behind my car was an area where I could have backed up and gotten out of her way. But I didn’t move.

I was reminded very distinctly of my favorite Dr. Seuss story: The Zax. In the story, two Zax are traveling by foot when they run smack into each other. Neither one will step to the side so that the other may pass.

And while I knew that the Zax never did budge, I also knew one of us was going to budge.

Normally, I would move. In fact, I would have backed up and gotten out of the woman’s way if only I hadn’t been so upset by the fact that the car was left right in the middle of the lot so that no other cars could pass. I felt like I needed to make a point, and that I should wait for her to move first.

At the same time, I realized that for my entire life, I’ve been moving out of other people’s way. I’ve spent so much time saying, “excuse me” and “I’m sorry” while stepping aside that I think my quota of apologies is entirely used up. So when I realized that this car was in my way, for a change I decided to stand my ground.

After about a minute of not moving, the woman got out of her car and walked over to my car.

“Is there a space you could pull into, so that I could get by?” she said – in the sweetest and kindest possible way. She was nearly apologizing for asking me to move, even though I was the one who had been waiting for her.

“You want me to move,” I growled, already throwing my car into reverse. “Or you could have moved so that I could have gotten through!”

I could see from her astonishment that this possibility had never crossed her simple mind. “But I need to go this way!” she said, still trying to be sweet. But I was already backing up, getting out of her way, and I wasn’t going to argue about whose “way” was most important.

I thought about my kids. What would I have done if they’d been in the car? Would I have showed them that it’s important to stand up for oneself? Or would I have backed up as soon as she got into her car, so that we could all go back to things that actually matter?

I honestly don’t know if I would have changed anything at all.

But I do have a new clarity, now, on why the Zax never moved a single inch.