Even the nice little yellow sign mimics the sign of Y– yield. You come down the on ramp and see the traffic hurtling toward you at what you hope is “only” 60 mph. You must yield to their right of way. If you don’t, someone is probably going to die– or many someones.
The pedestrian comes out of Wal-Mart and makes a slow shuffle on the longest diagonal across the road they possibly can. What should have taken ten seconds takes a minute and a half– especially when she stops to chat with another gal coming into the store– at that same long diagonal. Sure, you could choose not to yield, but you don’t plan to scatter toilet paper, cereal, and unmentionables across the parking lot.
Some things are obvious–we’re forced to yield, and because of that, we usually do it with a reasonable amount of courtesy. Sometimes we yield to the guy behind us in line at the store. He only has a loaf of bread and a gallon of milk. We have an overflowing cart. “Go ahead.” We mean it. We’re happy to do it. We offer a guest the last piece of cheesecake or a stranger a flower from the bouquet we bought. We like being generous.
Why then, do we cling so tenaciously to other “rights” without even consideration for yielding. Why must the person we’re discussing theology with yield to our position? Why must the neighbor turn down that music?! It seems as if the two extremes (enforced yielding and magnanimous yielding) creates a third extreme “MY RIGHTS.”
I wonder what would happen if people simply yielded once, every day, when they least wanted to and most didn’t HAVE to. I wonder.