Perceptions Can Dictate Our Life

She was throwing up…

Recently I was waiting in line to board a plane. There was a lady sitting in the waiting area. She had gray hair & was wearing a black jacket along with black boots. At first glance she looked like she was out of it – like someone who had too much to drink the night before and now was suffering through a hangover as she waited to board her flight.

She wasn’t sitting as much as she was sprawled out in one of the chairs nearest to the gate.

I dismissed her as I took my place in line. I dismissed her until I heard her vomit.

The sound of someone throwing up is one of those unmistakable sounds. I won’t describe it further because if you are at all like me, thinking about the sound makes you gag a little.

I looked over in the direction of the sound and it was the lady – she had moved from her sprawled position to an upright but hunched forward one. Her head was hanging towards her lap. Her face pushed firmly against a bag.

As I looked around the lobby, I saw other travelers exchanging silent glances among themselves, “What is wrong with her?” “Ewww that is so gross?” “I hope I don’t catch what she has.”

Some of those travelers inched away, others got up and moved to different sections.

She threw up again. And again. And again. She never attempted to get up and go to the bathroom. She never tried to conceal it. She just kept puking.

During those moments of relief that come only after your body has finished convulsing, she filled hers with loud guttural moans – moans that were so loud that if you had not heard her throwing up, you certainly must have heard her moan.

I wish I could tell you my mind went straight to compassion and that my first thoughts were to go check on her and see if she was ok. That wasn’t the case.

Since I had already pre-judged her as being someone who must of “had too much to drink the night before,” my immediate thoughts formed around supporting that judgement:

“God, I hope I don’t get stuck in the seat next to her!”

“Why wouldn’t she take a different flight?”

“Who in their right mind would put themselves through this?!”

I stopped myself with that thought… “Who in their right mind?”

Who indeed?

Let’s assume for a moment that this woman was not who I judged her to be. Let’s assume this woman is more than the bias I formed…

Who would be putting themselves through this?

Maybe someone who felt they had no other choice?

Maybe someone who is sick, but with the kind of illness that isn’t contagious?

Maybe she has cancer? Maybe she has cancer & is going through treatment?

As fate always seems to conspire to present us opportunities to learn the lessons we need to learn, she was seated at my diagonal one row in front of me. As this was a smaller plane, she was less than 24 inches away. I could reach out and touch her.

She looked miserable as she sat there. She was slumped over in her chair with her hood pulled tightly around her head.

Seeing her there, I flashed back to some flights I had been on when I felt miserable. It was the first spark of compassion.

The plane began to fill. Two passengers, a man & his wife, took the seats in front of her. I hear her say what sounds like “Oh Dr…” She extends her arms to him, & he, on his knees looking over his seat at her, receives her embrace.

The wife said, “We have been praying for you.”

The lady said, “Thank you.” She begins to cry, “I’ve had a really hard week.”

I hear bits & pieces of their conversation. Words like “Biopsy,” “Scans” “Medicine,” and “Treatment” stand out through the noise of an actively boarding airplane.

At this point it sounds much less like she was someone who had too much to drink the night before and instead is someone who is fighting cancer.

I had my answer: “Who would put themselves through this?”

A brave woman battling cancer, that’s who.

She continued to cry as she spoke with the Dr & his wife. She apologized to them for her tears. The wife whose eyes overflowed with compassion & love, assured her, “You have nothing to apologize for.”

I sat there, watching this beautiful scene of compassion unfolding in front of me. Where I had initially saw a drunk suffering from a hangover, there was now a courageous woman whose battle was so inspiring that it elicited tears from those who knew her & her story.

It is human to judge. It’s programed into our biology to constantly be assessing friend or foe, fight or flight, dangerous or safe. These can be challenging roads to ravel. Each one often begins at “same or different.” Is this person like me or not like me? It’s here that we begin judging behaviors & assigning meaning based on that judgement. “She must have drunk to much the night before…”

The challenge with this programing is that once you make the initial judgement you will begin blinding yourself to seeing other possibilities & perspectives; seeking only “evidence,” usually in the form of opinions & perspectives, that will validate your judgement.

This is how judgements can quickly evolve from an opinion to one’s dogma.

I now felt myself being inspired by this woman. In my mind she was no longer the woman who, only 30 minutes prior, had disgusted me.

After a lengthy taxi to the runway, one which saw her retreat into the safety of her jack with her hood pulled tightly around her head, we finally took off. The flight was short. I kept my eyes on her. I felt for her. I admired her. I hoped for her.

20 minutes into the flight, she stirred, and her earphone fell from her left ear into the aisle. She reflexively reached out to grab it. Outstretched bony fingers could not quite reach, it had rolled too far for her, but not for me.

I scooped up her treasure and as I returned it to her our eyes met. I held her gaze for a moment, and she held mine. The earphone passed from my fingers to hers. Moisture began to form at the corners of her eyes. We held each other’s gaze for a split second longer – long enough for a silent exchange to be made:

“I see you. Please forgive me for my earlier judgement. I value you. I wish you well on your journey.”

“Thank you.”

The plane landed.

The seat belt sign was off for less than a second and she was already up, sprinting to the door. She desperately wanted off the plane.

By the time I exited she had disappeared into the terminal.

I hope she is ok. I hope she gets better. I hope I get better too.

One thing life continually shows me is that humans are usually so much more than our biased perspectives. I was lucky enough to overhear a conversation that shined a light on a new perspective.

Here’s the thing, I didn’t need to hear that conversation to choose an alternative perspective. The one I had when the plane landed had always been available to me.

It’s a curious thing to wonder, what would life be life if we made the extra effort to choose perspectives that cast others in a brighter light? To choose love over fear.