image by gromgull

A funny thing happened the other day in Arches National Park. Rich and I were on our way back from a really fun and challenging hike and had seen dozens of signs along the way asking hikers to stay on the path to preserve the biologically active crust of desert soil. In an enticing alcove full of crevices and minicaves in the stone, I saw a mother and her sons playing off the trail and indignantly said to Rich, “What are they doing? That isn’t the path!” He laughed and said, “Don’t you remember? You went and checked out the exact same place on the way out!”

Indeed I had, and I realized at that point that I am every bit as much of an asshole as everyone I judge and criticize. This judging and criticizing is especially easy to do when traveling, because there are so many people embodying so many unfavorable stereotypes, and I am around them much more than I am at home. From loud obnoxious campers oblivious to others at the campsite to hikers oblivious to the stunning landscapes around them, there are plenty of examples of people who don’t seem to get it, and who bring to life Sartre’s famous statement “Hell is other people.”

But I notice that when I snark and judge, I see much more to snark and judge. And instead of enjoying my magnificent surroundings, I end up wasting valuable mental bandwidth wondering why other people are such dicks.

And then there are the times I catch myself embodying my own unfavorable stereotypes—the impatient New Yorker who huffs when people in front of her are moving too slow, the holier-than-thou “traveler” who looks down on “tourists.” The truth is that, for all my spiritual work and self-congratulations on being so cool, I can be as ugly as the ugliest white-tennis-shoe-wearing, Big-Mac-eating American.

The last few days I’ve been making an effort to notice when I complain or criticize, and I’m really surprised to see how much of this I indulge in. This kind of behavior is truly unkind—I don’t know any of these people I’m judging, or their circumstances. And, seriously, don’t I have better things to think about than what someone was thinking when she got dressed, or why did that family bother coming to the Grand Canyon if they were just going to watch DVDs in their minivan the whole time?

On a deeper level, criticizing others creates the same environment as other forms of cynicism—it functionally separates me from what I’m experiencing and from the people around me. If something happening is truly awful, my reaction should be to do something about it. If I don’t intend to do something about it, then making a snarky comment about it is simply making sport of other people. I do not want to be the kind of person who does this, so as of right now, I’m stopping.

Of course, not all judgement is bad. We do need to be able to distinguish between options, to see clearly and parse our observations. But what I’ve been doing is different. Since being on this roadtrip, it’s like the judgy, criticize-y part of my brain has been on overdrive. I need to shift this, and so I will.

Tim Ferriss posted about a 21-day no complaining experiment on his blog a while back, and I halfheartedly attempted it a few times, usually giving up after a few hours or a few days. It’s harder than it seems like it would be! Many of us use commisseration and complaining to start conversations and bond with each other. But there are better ways, and I’m going to use them more. As always, I’ll keep you posted on how it goes.

Have you ever conditioned yourself to behave differently? How did it impact the way you see the world? Let us know your thoughts in the comments.