Two lanes cut into one, just before the busiest intersection in town. They are doing roadwork, and it seems to be taking forever.

As much as possible, I avoid the area. It’s preferable to drive an extra ten minutes around than to sit and crawl along with the backed-up traffic.

But the part that made my blood boil, that no amount of yoga or breath training could calm away, was watching while drivers raced past in the right lane and nosed their way in. I sat in my self-righteousness, seething at their ignorance, their arrogance. Getting angrier by the minute as they jumped ahead of the line.

Then I found out I was wrong.

We were supposed to use both lanes, supposed to follow along and then take turns merging into one lane. But I, like most of the drivers in this place, figured I should get into the left lane as early as possible to ensure my spot.

At first, I was indignant. How else could it be navigated, how else could the traffic actually move along?

But then I sat with it, with my wrongness. And something surprising happened: Instead of holding onto the anger, I let it go.

I still avoid the area when I can. I still get into the left lane as early as possible (after all, it’s what most drivers here are doing), but now, instead of riding the bumper ahead of me, closing the gap for anyone seemingly cutting the line, I let them in.

And I let go.

I hope you find some ease in life’s traffic jams, some right in the wrongs. I hope you let go.