Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Several months ago I arrived on a Sunday morning to have my hair cut by a woman who only has Sunday appointments because she's in school.  She came to the door and asked if I could come back in a few minutes as she was running late.  Luckily, the salon is a couple of doors from one of my favorite bookstores, so I happily browsed and returned after about 30 minutes.  I sat down and waited.  I thumbed through all the idiotic haircut magazines.  I meditated, I thought of errands I needed to do.  And I stewed.  An hour later, I got up, in frustration, came around the wall and told her I was really upset.  She apologized, but that made it worse, because she had squeezed this person in who needed color without bothering about my time.  She said she had tried to call me but I was gone, which meant she tried to call about the time I left my house and it takes only ten minutes tops to get to her salon.

Dear reader, I was in tears.  I said I had lots of things I could be doing.  Evidently, crying was one of them.

What is wrong with this picture?  Carrie, who up until then had seemed dependable, was desperate for clients, and she thought she could juggle it all.  She used wrong speech by not telling me it would be an hour, not a few minutes.  Honesty would have allowed me to do an errand or two and not twiddle my thumbs.

What is right with this picture?  I spoke up and told her my feelings were hurt, showed her how vulnerable and upset I felt, at that moment.  She heard me, we talked it out, and I sat down and had my haircut.  She offered for the cut to be free, and I said no, I would pay.  I understood how she struggles to be in school and work and get the balance right.  I've been late getting back to relieve a babysitter, misjudged what I could get done in a given amount of time, and disappointed others.  We're all human.

I stood up for myself, but I was empathetic to Carrie.  I left the salon feeling dead center in the middle of Right Speech.  No name calling, no rage, just how it made me feel.  As if my time and person didn't matter.  It's awfully hard to say that kind of thing, so my gift to Carrie was my transparency.  And I felt heard.