A Dostoevsky' ish Retribution

I struggle to write this....as I guess is clearly exemplified by title, literally and metaphorically complicated.

Why struggle... why complicated? Because one of the hardest things to do is to admit to our own stupidity. A mistake is still easier to accept ( I'm human, I make mistakes...easy enough, right?)

But stupidity? Bloody tough.

When I told of this I started with saying "I did something really stupid, in fact I'm feeling pretty foolish, almost ashamed to say it". 

So what's the story?

I was driving .....and I was on Whatsapp .....and I hit a car.

As said by everyone (me included), the road may be clear, but someone else makes a mistake and if you're not alert, you can't control the situation.

Exactly what happened. When I looked down to my phone, there was no car anywhere ahead of me. A couple seconds later I hear this baaannggg.

I was mortified. This cab guy had overtaken from my left...done a U turn in front of me, across my car. He had expected me to brake. And I would have....just that this time, I wasn't looking.

Two things that came out through this story. Two possible reactions.

Per situation it was both of us in the wrong.

Had we each focused on the other's mistake, there would likely have been an argument... a futile argument, some anger, some hurt feelings, and then a resigned acceptance. (Which would have also been fine I guess)

My latest mantra is...is there a better way of handling a situation. 

While he was initially mad, then turned got back in his car, I  called him back. Asked him about insurance (not an option for lack of time), then asked if he had a bank account, took his phone number, and called him once I got home. A few messages exchanged for bank details and stuff, and the transfer was done. ( Got back a 'thank you, madam')

The story in my head: 'If scratches on my car are tough for me, they are that much tougher for him.  Whatever his role in the accident, I could have avoided it if I had been in the right.... so what could I do better'.

Could I take ownership? Could I own the mistake, could I own my emotions, could I also own his, and do my bit?

What started as foolish ( lesson well learnt there), and then went onto possibly fearful as it's never easy giving your number to a stranger ( anxiety of being exploited), going through doubts and questions, but sticking with what I believed was right.....a whole process of thoughts and emotions.

I chose the second possibility. It's always a choice.

"A fool who has confessed that he is a fool, is not a fool anymore" - Fyodor Dostoevsky.