This morning, out for a stroll, I was almost hit by a slow-moving car. Not dangerous, just annoying. I had the right of way, and an elderly woman driver was inching right through a red light. Displeased, I shot her a dirty look as I walked around her car.

To my surprise, she stopped the car, opened her door, and said “I’m sorry!” I turned around and smiled, chastened a bit. She’s an older woman. Who knows what she’s dealing with? Did she really deserve the look I gave her? And even if she did - is it helpful for me to be judging others as quickly as I judged her?

She is my teacher.

A few years ago, a coworker of mine snapped at me one day, out of the blue. “I’m done with you,” he said. “No more Mr. Nice Guy.” I hadn’t done anything, at least not that I had noticed. This bothered me for quite some time. But after a while, I was able to accept that maybe I wasn’t totally innocent in that situation. I owned up to my (teensy) part, and I learned not to personalize other people’s actions as much.

That man is my teacher.

When I find fault in people who are difficult to handle, a mentor of mine often says, “this person is in your life for a reason.” It is an important point, and it never fails to refocus my attention on what really matters.

We are in this world to learn and grow. And that means that everything that happens to us is designed to teach us, to help us toward that goal. Our teachers are everywhere.

The guy who always blocks both parking spots. He is our teacher. (Well, he’s certainly mine!)

The person who takes all the K-Cups at work - she is our teacher.

The boss who just doesn’t get it, doesn’t appreciate, doesn’t give enough of a raise - he is our teacher.

The politicians we don’t like - on either side of the aisle - are certainly our teachers.

Our families are our teachers. Our friends. Our co-workers. Nameless strangers on the street, famous people we’ll never meet, every Facebook post, every tweet. These are our teachers.

Sometimes we don’t like the lesson, and sometimes the lesson itself is unclear. But if we remain teachable, we are open to learning something from every situation. And we can only be better off.

Shimmy Feintuch, LCSW CASAC-G maintains a private practice in Brooklyn, NY, and Washington Heights, NYC, with specialties in addictions and anxiety. He is also an Adjunct Professor at the Wurzweiler School of Social Work at Yeshiva University. Contact: (530) 334-6882 or shimmyfeintuch@gmail.com. 

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