Egocentricity runs deeply in the human spirit. If there is a rainbow, it is a sign sent specifically on my behalf. When there is excessive traffic on my commute I take it as a personal inconvenience. When a friend does not return my greeting I leap to the conclusion that she is upset with me. If John chooses to spend an hour playing video games I conclude that he is bored with our relationship. 

But there is evidence to suggest that the world does not pivot around my whims. Revolutionary, I know. 

One time I asked a friend if she was annoyed with me, because she had walked right by me the day before. She looked disoriented, and said no, she was struggling with something and probably didn't even notice me. When it took me a full ninety seconds to turn left on to the busy street near my house I finally realized. Their lights were on in broad daylight. Someone, many someones, were grieving. 

A mother with young children made a comment that resonated. When her kids are peckish, it is not that they are intentionally giving her a hard time. Rather, they are having a hard time. She is simply part of the landscape. It helps her transition from resentment to compassion. 

One time, long ago, I realized this. My three year old was having an uncharacteristically tumultuous time while we were shopping. I simply had to get these groceries and the more I scowled the less he cooperated. Finally, when we struggled to the parking lot with less than I needed I yelled at him.

"You are making this very difficult for me!"

In a quiet voice he answered. 

"I didn't mean to."  

He was simply being a hungry, tired little boy whose tolerance for errands had expired. It had nothing to do with sabotaging his mother. 

To the extent that I can extract myself from the epicenter of the universe, I can enjoy the luxury of caring for the people around me.