Sitting in the Dallas/Fort Worth Airport, a bustling hub of international travel, recently, I carved out moments to engage in what may be one of my favorite activities. People watching. Favorite not because I’m sizing up who might attack me, rob me, or otherwise cause a personal affront, with sinister motives, nor because I’m a weirdo. I love people watching because people are endlessly fascinating.
Throughout my kids lives, we frequently flew to Orlando to visit family. Once or twice a year I’d board when they were toddlers, holding their tiny hands for dear life. I had the notion that perhaps something sinister was happening and if prone to wander, they’d quickly be taken. Gone in a blink to one of dozens of destinations on the overhead screens. When my son spent a quarter abroad in college, I wanted to, but did not, refrain from warning him not to get taken. I don’t have the skills of Liam Neeson in the movie of the same name. A movie which, though I never watched it, terrified me as a mother nonetheless.
Looking up and around
In the last decade, I’ve travelled regularly for work and pleasure and found myself killing time waiting for connecting flight. Within the terminal, you glimpse a microcosm of American culture. It’s as though we’ve been tossed in a blender and swirled around. Left a little dazed and figuring out what’s happening next. So, to a degree, 90% of us are on an equal playing field. But spend any time truly seeing people and you realize you’re not.
There’s the young mother, traveling alone with an infant and toddler. Perhaps always alone. On her way to where though? A spouse, a parent, a friend, vacation? Or the gaggle of teens who were not only in the terminal but now also on your plane headed to a volleyball tournament (from what I’ve gleaned). Mothers in-tow. Or service members headed to or returning from providing an unquantifiable service to each of us. The young family with at least four kids trailing behind, on vacation. The story I tell is it’s one they’ve saved for years to take.
Looking around and … judging?
People watching may also be tinted with people stalking. To reiterate, no, I’m not a weirdo. But the people who start at your home airport and continue through all your connections. They’re like an old friend, the quick nod of acknowledgment as you pass. Why are they on the plane today? Curiosity sometimes causes me to ask, but not always. I’ll also let my mind wander to the possibilities.
I notice that people watching brings out an urge to not only have curiosity, but also judgement. As in, how can that young family of 6 afford an expensive vacation? Are they going into debt? And I don’t like it. So much so that I diligently work to redirect when I notice judgement rising inside me. Look for the positive side…remarkable the family could take vacation. But I think about the judgement because our judgement of other people is usually an indication of how we judge ourselves.
Judging but looking in
Maybe, people watching and our inner monologue about our observations is a mirror, a reflection to our own thoughts about ourselves? What would be different if you believed that was true? I believe it shows me fears, insecurities, and the narrative of my inner judge. Sit with that thought again. Our observations of others are a mirror of ourselves.
Maybe my efforts to be kind to strangers in my thoughts and deeds are an indication I’m being kinder to myself. That’s not always been the case. I’ve spoken to myself far more harshly than I would to any other person, tenfold. The disdain I’ve shown for clumsiness, body image, mistakes, failures, insecurities, fears, has been unrelenting. Not written to shock anyone, written because it’s true and for a fact I know I’m not alone. But that’s shifting noticeably, as have my observations while people watching.
Looking in and truly seeing
Could you get curious? Use your observations, judgements of others, as a reflection (a projection), of what you observe and judge in yourself? Those judgements we place on others are a projection, so listen carefully to your mental narrative. Unless and until we can truly see ourselves, we will struggle to live our authentic lives. And if we’re a hot mess? Then we can be a hot mess we embrace and love, not judge. Be curious, see yourself and see others. You might find you love what’s right in front of you. Be brave. Lisa