The Result of Opting for Serenity Instead of Fury

“Between stimulus and response lies a space. In that space resides our ability to select our response.” ~Viktor E. Frankl

A few months back, I was stuck on a busy highway with my wife and son. The traffic was crawling. Cars were moving slightly forward, filling one small gap at a time, accompanied by the usual impatience in the air.

All of a sudden, there was a loud pop. It sounded like something had exploded.

For a moment, I didn’t comprehend what had occurred. Then I understood that a motorcyclist attempting to squeeze through the tight space between vehicles had collided with us. His side bar had punctured our rear tire, and he had tumbled onto the pavement.

We exited the vehicle at once. We were all rattled. The motorcyclist was getting back up, clearly shaken.

My initial response was rage.

We had already been ensnared in that traffic jam for over an hour, and now we had to contend with a flat tire in the midst of it. The hassle, the negligence, the sudden interruption—it all converged at that moment.

However, something unexpected transpired.

I held back my reaction.

My son was driving, and I could feel his anxiety. The motorcyclist approached, apologized, and offered to cover a minor amount for the damage. It was evidently insufficient, and under other circumstances, we might have argued.

I could have responded quite differently—raised my voice, questioned his recklessness, and demanded payment right there on the spot.

It could have easily spiraled into a dispute, attracting attention and heightening the chaos surrounding us. And it would have merely intensified that tension.

But we decided to let it slide.

Instead, we turned our attention to the immediate issue. Changing a tire under such traffic conditions was not feasible. Cars were packed too tightly, leaving no safe space to do it.

So we made a tough choice. We proceeded.

For nearly two kilometers, we cautiously drove on a damaged tire, the car unstable, the noise of it reminding us of the incident. Eventually, we located a small roadside tire shop and had it replaced.

The whole episode set us back by almost two hours.

For a time, the tension lingered. We had already been annoyed prior to the incident, and this only compounded it. But as we resumed our journey, something shifted.

The tension relaxed.

We started conversing normally again. We stopped for a delightful lunch and, almost without realizing, began to savor the rest of the trip.

Later, I reflected on how easily that moment could have unfolded differently.

We could have had a confrontation with the motorcyclist. We could have clung to the anger, replaying the event in our minds. It wouldn’t have altered what had transpired. The tire would still have required replacement. The delay would still have been present.

But it would have transformed the rest of the day.

At times, not reacting isn’t about consciously being calm or patient. It’s simply about perceiving clearly what the situation requires.

In that moment, we needed not a confrontation but a resolution.

The anger arose, yet it did not linger. And because it did not persist, it didn’t take anything more from us than it already had.

That slight difference altered the experience of the entire day.

It reminded me that we often hold on to moments longer than needed, ruminating over them, allowing them to influence what follows.

But sometimes, we can let them drift away.

Not because they lack significance, but because hanging on to them offers no benefit.

And when we do, even a mundane day that briefly veered off course can find its way back.

May 2026

Spiritual Journey Digest

The Result of Opting for Serenity Instead of Fury

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