Splashed on the Sidewalk

I was walking around town this morning. The sun was hot and the streets were dry. Well, mostly. There were still some puddles leftover from the rain last night. A car drove through one of them and splashed me on the sidewalk. It got me pretty good. 

I took my next step and kept walking. There was not a stutter in my stride. 

I noticed that I was more than a little bit wet, but only from the waist down, and only on my right side. I did not turn around to see the car that splashed me. I was not at all angry or upset. In fact, the first emotion that I recognized was surprise. I was surprised that, now a few steps past the place of the splash, I had not had any reaction. This seemed unusual, hence my surprise. 

I became curious. I wondered why I did not react. Then I stopped wondering. It did not seem to matter why I didn’t react, but it did seem to be good that I didn’t. Negative reactions do not seem positive or productive. I don’t think anyone reacts to being splashed by a car by jumping for joy. So, in this case, the best reaction seemed like no reaction. That was my reaction, or lack thereof.

Why should I have been upset anyway? Ten minutes later, I was completely dry. Why should I have turned around to see who did it, or to yell at them, or to make arms to show my displeasure, or to make them feel bad? It was almost certainly an accident. If they noticed what they did, they probably felt bad already. What good could come from me getting mad? I couldn't think of any. 

I did not need to be mad. They did not need to feel bad. It was just water. I kept walking.