Speak up, I can’t hear you

After I finished school, I went on my first solo trip abroad. Travelling on my own meant that I met a lot of amazing people. It also provided some real lessons for me on why being ‘nice’ isn’t as important as being true to myself. Here’s one of them:

Early one morning, I began my journey to the airport to travel from Aukland, New Zealand to Sydney, Australia. I was the first person to be picked up by an airport shuttle service and the driver asked that I sit in the back since I was taking an international flight and it was the last drop off point. Domestic travellers were directed to sit closer to the front. I was travelling light and my backpack was on the seat beside me.

A man in his late 50’s was the next passenger to be picked up. He had so much luggage that most of it went in the back portion of the van. The shuttle was empty except for me but he walked straight to my seat, took my backpack and moved it to the seat in front of me so he could put an additional bag of his where mine had been. He then sat down between his bag and me and sat so close that I was pressed between him and the window. We soon discovered he was on the same flight to Sydney before connecting to a flight bound for South Africa where he owned a holiday house.

He’d had a big night out prior and still smelled like alcohol. From his carry-on he produced a small photo album with pictures of his second home that he showed to me. He tried to make a case for why I should change my plans on spending the next part of my travels in Australia and come with him to South Africa first. His wife would not be joining him for several weeks.

There is enough in this part of the story that sets up this blog post for a strong theme about speaking up when an interaction with another person doesn’t feel right; when acceptable boundaries are crossed. Our bodies know when something isn’t right. I knew the moment my knapsack was moved. Everything that followed, made me more and more uncomfortable but the very first action of this other person was all I needed. Instead of responding to my internal alert, I smiled. I then listened. I complimented him on his second home that he was obviously proud of and I politely declined on his offer to visit him while his wife was still in New Zealand.

When do you participate in a version of this in your own life? When do you override what your body is telling you? Do you grin and bear it when the wisdom of your body is guiding you to respond authentically?

Meanwhile, the shuttle was filling up with predominately domestic passengers. The man beside me only paused to stop talking about himself when it clicked for him that I was travelling with a single backpack and only a smallish handbag.

He quickly developed a plan: We would sit together on the plane. I would check-in his extra luggage for him pretending it was mine. He would save money on that leg of the flight and simply recheck those bags once he arrived in Sydney. He also had plenty of ideas about our time together in South Africa regardless of what I said to the contrary.

True to the word of the shuttle driver, we dropped off passengers at the domestic terminal first, including a man in his early forties who I would see again soon; sweaty, out of breath and clutching his side.

At the international terminal, the man headed for South Africa had so much stuff that I knew it would take him awhile to get inside so I planned to check-in quickly and lose him. Once I was through security I could easily stay busy inside the shops until boarding to avoid him. The problem though, was there was a long line to check-in so I went to the bathroom and waited and waited and waited. When I finally emerged, the coast was clear and that’s when I saw the man who’d recently been dropped off at the domestic terminal.

He looked like he’d just run a marathon in a business shirt. When he saw me, he was so relieved, that for a brief moment, I thought he might cry. He placed a hand on my shoulder (his other hand was pressed to his side like he still had a cramp from running) and he said in a shaky but emphatic voice, “Neeeeeeeever agree to check someone’s bags for them.”

I assured him I didn’t…wouldn’t…and he said, still out of breath, “Security has taken care of him. You don’t have to worry. That man was drunk and who knows what he has in those bags.” He went on to explain that he had run all the way from the domestic terminal, saw the man in the check-in line and pointed him out to security. He had promptly been ‘taken away’ just moments before. Apparently, there had been quite the commotion and I’d missed all the action.

I was relieved. I also saw my circumstances from another perspective and felt a bit embarrassed but mostly I was overwhelmed with gratitude for this stranger in response to his concern for me. He had his own flight to catch but he gave me a big hug and then with a hand on each of my shoulders said, “promise me, you’ll be more careful?” I agreed I would.

I checked-in, went through security and found my gate. I was shaken that I had behaved in a submissive way. I had already been travelling for two months and felt like I was savvier then that. Why hadn’t I dealt with all of it better? I wasn’t a mouse. Why didn’t I communicate clearly? I had no plans to actually take his luggage for him but I mostly had pointed out why that would be inconvenient ‘for him’. Why had I continually allowed my brain to override the feelings in my body that I wanted to get away from him?

I knew the answer: I wanted to be nice.

It was almost time to board so I decided to get a Snickers bar and a magazine. When I got back to wait at my gate, I was still deep in thought about how amazing it was that a perfect stranger had gone to such lengths for me. I took a bite of my snickers and noticed someone was yelling about something and people were stopping to look. And then, I quickly realized someone was yelling at me from a distance. It looked like I had company on the flight to Sydney after all.

The area was crowded so the view of the man was obscured. He was calling out, “Kathy! Kathy!” I have never gone by the name Kathy which is also why I didn’t realize the disturbance had anything to do with me at first. I still had a mouthful of my snickers. I watched and listened while feeling disconnected from my body as the rest unfolded.

“Well, thanks a #$@% lot!” he yelled when he realized I was looking his way. “I was nothing but kind to you. I invited you to my home and then I was treated like an animal.”

I can still hear his voice all these years later say these words in particular, “The things they did to me because of you!”

By this time there were a lot of eyes on him and on the source of his outrage; me. Security officials seemed to appear out of nowhere and were blocking his path toward me. His rant continued with more “you…”, “you…”, “you…”, along with aggressive finger pointing and strings of expletives. While he was still a couple rows of seating away, security moved in close to him, spoke with him in hushed tones and finally escorted him somewhere. I didn’t see him on the plane after that but there were lots of eyes on me as I boarded, like I had done something really, really bad.

There is no doubt things could have unfolded differently that morning.

My choice to be nice was a disservice to myself. It was also a disservice to the running man who thought I was going to jail for drug trafficking. And it certainly wasn’t the best outcome for the man who (presumably) was still headed to South Africa; he has likely also retold this story over the years but with an emphasis on his experience of having a full-body cavity search performed by airport security.

Was my decision to be ‘nice’, nice for anyone?

Think about the times when you haven’t listened to what your body was telling you because you didn’t want to upset the people around you. Maybe it was an interaction with a stranger or perhaps with someone you see every day. Sometimes it seems easier to put off acting on what your body has to say about what is best for you. Is it really easier? Is it really the best scenario for anyone at all? What about when you repetitively ignore what your body is telling you? How does that impact how you make decisions for yourself? How does that impact your health? How does that impact all of your relationships and your life path?

Imagine your world if you deeply listened to the wisdom of your body. I’m not talking about being led by passing wants. I am referring to the deep listening of your enduring needs. Your body knows the people who are good for you, the foods that are good for you, ways to move your body that uplifts and nourishes you. Your body gives you feedback all the time about healthy environments, as well as guidance for day-to-day business, financial and personal decisions.

It may not be easy and you won’t always get it right. Mindful movement practices like yoga can help. Paying attention to your breath, to your life as it happens, can help. Meditation can help. Consider this week’s blog post as an invitation to get out of your head and into your whole body.

Here’s something to try: Get quiet and still and ensure you will be undisturbed for a few minutes. Intentionally spend some time noticing sounds around you, your breath, and any sensations in your body. You might scan the body; moving through it with your mind from head to toe. Next, place your hand on your upper chest and ask: What is it I need to know? Intend for this to be a feeling into instead of a thinking about question. If an answer comes, it comes. If it doesn’t, go on with your day and check in again at the end of the day or the next day at the same time. Create a small practice that carves out space for receiving answers from your body. Make it your clear intention to communicate with your inner guide.