Bless them. Strengthen me.

So let's be honest with ourselves and not take ourselves too serious, and never condemn the other fellow for doing what we are doing every day, only in a different way. Will Rogers

I have a prayer I use in those moments where I want to scream at the other driver, curse the slow teller or trip up the guy walking in front of me, cellphone to his ear, blasting the intimate details of his latest business coup to the world, "Bless them. Strengthen me."

I admit it. I have cut off drivers. Held up the line in front of the teller as I've searched for my my wallet in the bottom of my purse while talking on my cellphone, all the while smiling apologetically to the teller, mouthing the words, I'm sorry. I've then dropped my cellphone, picked it up, kept talking and kept searching for my wallet -- get the picture? "Bless me. Strengthen me."

In the process of strengthening me, I have learned some valuable lessons.

1. If I find someone annoying, irritating, unpalatable, look inside me. Somewhere I have done, said, been something just like them. Look inside.
2. Do not tell the story of someone else's 'bad' thinking it makes me look good.
3. Do not tell the story of someone 'wronging' me believing I am justified in repeating it to anyone who will listen -- 'because I've been wronged I am self-righteous'. Those stories focus on me as the 'victim'. When I paint myself as the victim, I feel angry, unforgiving, and harsh.
4. When angry I do not have the right to be cruel. It is up to me to find appropriate and respectful ways to express my anger -- calling you the idiot makes me the bigger fool.
5. There is value in everything. When the only value I perceive is negative, I'm not looking hard enough. Change my glasses. Change my perspective. Change my state of being.

On Monday, a young woman from a University in town called my office to ask for a tour of the shelter where I work. "My partner and I are doing a project for our In Design Class. We've decided to do the shelter."

They wanted their tour for the next day or today. I can't do those dates, I told her. I could do Thursday. I also pointed out that a day's notice is not sufficient. A week or two would be more appropriate. She apologized and we agreed to Thursday for the tour. "Our assignment is due Friday," she said. "Could we come in and walk around and take pictures of the space?"

"That is not appropriate," I told her. "Imagine if a stranger came to your home and said, 'I just want to walk in and take pictures of your space.' How would that sit with you?"

She acknowledged it wouldn't sit well and we agreed to a time to get together on Thursday afternoon.

Yesterday, I had to go to the first floor to drop something off at the security desk. As I walked across the lobby two young women walked past me, holding their Blackberry's, writing notes and taking photos.

I stopped them. "Are you from the University?" I asked.

Surprised, they both looked at me and quickly dropped their hands holding their cellphones to their sides. "Yes."

I asked their names and they ended up being the student who'd called me and her partner.

I told them what they were doing was inappropriate. That they did not have permission, nor the right to walk in and start taking pictures.

They looked at me sheepishly. Embarrassed. There wasn't much they could say. I told them they'd have to leave and were welcome to come back Thursday for their scheduled tour.

But the story doesn't end there. See, this is where I have to tell on myself.

Yesterday, I repeated the story several times. At the office to a couple of my co-workers and last night, three times (once each to my daughters and once to C.C.). And yes, I repeated it here -- but this time I've learned my lesson, found the value in what transpired -- you know what I mean. I'm justified in repeating it! :)

Something I noticed in the repeating of the story -- my indignation rose with each telling. It did not abate. Interesting that. I would have thought that telling my 'story' would wear me out, or at least wear the tear in the story out. But it didn't. I became more assured of my self-righteousness with each telling. What's that all about?

My purpose in telling that story was not to share a lesson -- it was to show how stupid, ignorant, insensitive, blah blah blah, the offenders were. It was to put me in a 'good' light and them in 'bad'. Remember -- calling you an idiot makes me a bigger fool... Which also explains my ongoing indignation -- telling the story with me as the victim them as the foe was not sitting well with my heart. My indignation wasn't really over what they had done - they had only acted as young human beings finding their way. Sure, they hadn't acted with integrity -- let me think. When I was their age would I have done the same. Possibly not -- but I have done equally unthoughtful and stupid things. My indignation was I was creating a Lose/Lose. I was using their bad as my pulpit. I wasn't being a woman of integrity, acting in my higher good. I was being petty.

Ouch. That hurts.

Time to find value in all things. And there is value in my repetition of the story.

Lesson One -- any story I tell for the self-gratification of me being right and the other wrong -- is not a story worth telling.

Lesson two -- when I tell the story without finding value in the encounter first -- I am just as wrong as the original sin.

And the greatest lesson of all -- I work in a place where people are downtrodden, beaten up, beaten down and broken up. I can see them through eyes of compassion. Hear them with an open mind, and empathize with a loving heart. I don't have the same patience nor tolerance with people on 'mainstreet'.

As my daughter implored me, "See the God in everyone."

Not just those who have lost their way, but those who are struggling to make their way in a world of contradictions, looming deadlines, possibilities and whatever else is on their plate.

The question isn't -- How can I teach those girls a lesson?

The question is -- How can this situation become an opening for understanding to grow, compassion to take heart and tolerance to spring roots? What can I do to leverage their 'bad' into good? How can I open the door to tolerance, patience and a more creative space where they see 'the human being', not just the homeless guy whose life they want to record?

Those young women are not alone in their belief their deadline was what counted -- and an underlying belief that says, "I'm curious about homelessness. Why don't I just go down to the shelter and take photos." It happens a lot. Rather than deny them access, I have the opportunity to create a bridge that takes them from mainstreet to find a common ground where every person has value -- regardless of what side of the street they're on.

And that's my lesson this morning. Repeating the story was my 'schtick'. It's not the first time I've done that. I'd like to believe it will be my last! Reality is, I will slip and slide my way to humble ground where tolerance and compassion open my eyes before I open my mouth.

In the meantime, I've figured out a way to create value in this situation. I can email the young women and make it their responsibility to arrange with their professor for me to come in and give a presentation to their class. I can work with them to open their hearts to seeing the world of homelessness through caring eyes -- not just eyes that have to get an assignment done, regardless of how it affects the people involved, regardless of whose life is disrupted.

Like me, these young women were afraid the truth would not get them what they wanted. The truth was harder to face than the lie -- and so they opted to slide under the ethical line and slip into subterfuge to get the job done.

When we know better we do better.

For them to know better, I have to do better. I could 'punish' them and not give them the tour, and report them to their prof. Or, I can create an opportunity where the value is found in illuminating our shared human condition. I can open the door for them to learn and to find the path of dignity where they open themselves up to their own light, and uncover their worth beneath their fear of being honest about their intentions. This is a learning ground. A space for understanding, tolerance and acceptance to grow. What a wonderful opportunity.

I'm opting for the latter. My heart feels calmer and my peace of mind is restored. The story isn't about what the girls did that was wrong. It's what I do to live up to my values, principles and beliefs. It's about how I walk my integrity and cross the line into compassion so that my ripple affect creates a better world, a world on a higher ground than where I stood as a victim looking out at all that was wrong with no possibility of making things right.

This is a world of possibility.

Bless them. Strengthen me.

Nameste.