After completing a demanding work week in Squamish and Port Alberni, my husband and I embarked on a trip to visit family. We left our home right after my work ended, and sailed across from the island to Vancouver. We checked into the hotel around 1am, weary and drained, definitely questioning our decision to travel after such a busy year.
Around 3 am, I was awakened by loud voices in the hallway and then in the neighbouring room. The door was repeatedly opened and slammed shut, light switches clicked on and off frantically, and there was pacing accompanied by non-stop conversation. With a 5 am wake-up looming, and being someone who REALLY values a good 8 hours of sleep (I’m a better human, I really am), I was becoming frustrated. My love for sleep even trumps my love for caffeine, which tells you a lot. By 4 am, the disturbance hadn’t ceased, and I found myself getting actually angry. My mind filled with thoughts that this person must be so incredibly entitled and I could not wrap my head around their lack of consideration. I decided I’d had enough.
I slipped into my joggers and stepped outside our door. Perhaps they heard me, perhaps not, but the occupant of the noisy room also emerged. We blinked at each other with tired eyes; my hair probably resembled a wild crow’s nest. I straightforwardly said, “Can you please be quieter? I’m just trying to sleep.” Wide-open, puppy-dog eyes met mine, and they asked if I was on the phone. I replied, “No, I’m not on the phone; I’m just trying to sleep.” We stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity, and then they sincerely apologized, turned on their heel, and disappeared into their room. The elaborate story my mind had woven about an entitled person quickly dissipated, replaced by empathy when I realized they might be undergoing a mental health episode. This experience serves as a reminder that the stories we create in our minds, about ourselves or others, are just that—stories. One narrative out of a million possibilities. If we question these stories when they arise, we might find ourselves in a better place, recognizing that what we share is more than just being human. We are truly connected through our humanity, and we will never fully comprehend what another person is currently going through or has experienced in the past.
Life is not black and white; there are always two sides to a coin. Approaching situations with curiosity instead of a fixed opinion can lead to surprising revelations. Through my work as a bodyworker, I’ve learned that every person I’ve encountered has a story that could bring tears to your eyes—every single one. We share a collective humanity for joy and suffering, and it’s crucial to continually challenge our own narratives about “others.” It’s never a straightforward matter; there are complexities to every situation. Embracing curiosity can lead to a deeper understanding and a realization that we might have more in common than what sets us apart.
Byron Katie has significantly aided my understanding of questioning my personal narratives through her transformative process known as ‘The Work,’ which is available for free. Her book that profoundly impacted my life is ‘Loving What Is“.
