Five Minutes of Meditation When Anger From a Near Miss on the Road Has Not Cooled

Almost half past twelve, noon, the intersection by the bridge. The box on the back of my bike was hot as a little oven, sweat running down my temple under the helmet. A car swung out of the left lane and cut across my front wheel, no signal. I squeezed the brake, the back tire slid a little on the road, the box shoved toward my spine. Nobody was hurt. The car just kept going, brake lights blinking, as if nothing had happened.

I have delivered parcels by motorbike for four years, and this was not the first time. The strange part is that the anger did not leave with the car. It stayed. I pulled up to the curb and put the bike on its stand under a tamarind tree, and twenty minutes later I was still sitting there, arguing with that driver in my head, each round a little uglier than the last.

This piece does not say your anger is wrong, and certainly not that the driver who cut you off is innocent. It is only five minutes to sit beside the anger for a while and see whether your hands will loosen, and it only works when the bike has fully stopped, the engine is off, and the stand is down.

Stop the bike, turn it off

Before you read on, check three things. The bike has fully stopped and is off, the stand is solid. Where you sit is not blocking anyone and not right at the edge of moving traffic. And the sun is not beating down on your head: if it is, slide into the shade. Eyes open is fine, even better, resting on one spot on the ground. Do not close your eyes out on the street. If you feel dizzy or uncomfortable at any point, stop right away and take a sip of water. There is nothing here to force through.

Read slowly. Each ellipsis is a pause.

The bike is still.
The engine is off.
I am here…
not at the intersection anymore.

Hands still clenched?
Let them stay clenched…
and loosen them when you are ready.

Eyes open. Look at one spot…
a brick,
a streak of sun on the seat.

That is enough…
Right here, right now.

Where the anger is sitting

The anger is still there.
That is all right…
No need to chase it away.

Ask it gently:
where does it sit in the body?
In the jaw? The shoulders?
The two hands?

Just notice where it is…
No need to fix it.

If there is a sentence in your head,
like "how dare he cut me off,"
let it speak…
no need to answer.

How is the breath right now?
Fast? Slow? Shallow?
Only look…
Do not count. Do not adjust.

Breathe in…
breathe out…
Let the anger sit there
beside you, for a while.

Setting it down

Think of the other driver…
I do not know who they are.
I do not know what they were rushing to.

I do not have to forgive them.
I do not have to think they were right.
I only have to set down my own part.

Picture the anger as a bag…
heavy, tied to the back of the seat.
I untie it…
and put it down on the sidewalk.

Not thrown away.
Only set down…
I watch it lie there a while.

If it is still on my shoulders, that is fine.
Tomorrow I can set it down again.

Look around…
Horns, the smell of hot asphalt,
someone unwrapping a sandwich.
I am still here.

When I am ready,
helmet on, check the mirror,
then ride a little slower than usual for a stretch.

The first time I tried this, it took me nearly three minutes just to sit still, because my head was running the fourth curse. Some people say the anger drops quickly when they try this, some feel no change at all, and I was in the second group the first few times. After about a week of sitting like this whenever something happened, those twenty minutes of arguing in my head shrank to a shorter stretch. Not every time. On a busy day the short version is two things: stop the bike, and look at one spot on the ground for three breaths. That works too.

Where this often goes wrong is sitting there and going on writing the script of the argument. It is tempting because it feels like solving something, like preparing the perfect reply for someone you will never see again. If you notice yourself doing that, that is exactly the moment to go back to the spot on the ground. The piece on letting go of imaginary dialogues in your mind goes deeper into this loop.

If you try it a few times and the anger stays just as it was, do not force it. Some people suit standing up and walking a few dozen steps instead, or a cold glass of water first. Sometimes you need something gentler: the piece on five gentle ways to diffuse anger and the one on ninety seconds at a red light take different roads but share the same idea.

One thing needs saying plainly. If anger comes often, and so fiercely that it frightens you, if it makes you want to hurt someone, or if it goes on for weeks and affects your eating, sleeping, work, or the people close to you, then talk to someone with professional training. And if there are moments you think about hurting yourself, even as a passing thought, tell someone you trust today, and read the Emergency Support page. This article cannot take the place of that.

That afternoon I made my last two deliveries. The anger still peeked out like a bag forgotten on the seat, but lighter than before. At the intersection I slowed down and let a stranger's bike go through first.

Only one bike.