I live in a small cottage in a rural-ish neighborhood where I can’t see other houses from my house. Everyone keeps to themselves and lives quiet, private lives—it’s not a neighborhood with any sense of community.
But I’m a walker, and by walking the winding roads nearby I have met a garden designer, a social worker who really loves handwriting analysis, a dean at the culinary school, a kitchen manager at the same school, a hairdresser from town, and a German guy who helps take care of his mother-in-law’s enormous property.
Over time the neighborhood opened up, at least to some friendly “Good mornings” on my walk. But everyone in cars still seemed grumpy. No one ever waved. No one beeped a hello. Most barely dipped to the side to give me some room on the road.
I began to obsess about how unfriendly and rude everyone was. Couldn’t they lift a finger off the steering wheel? Couldn’t they acknowledge that I’m here at least by moving a tiny bit into the other lane? What’s wrong with these people?