I recently attended a wolf retreat in Montana. I went to connect with wolves, deepen my connection with nature, and open myself to whatever the experience might teach me.
I expected the wolves to be my teachers.
What I hadn't considered was that some of my lessons might come from the other women attending the retreat.
There were seven of us, each bringing our own personalities, experiences, habits, and ways of being in the world.
And as it turns out, a few of those habits really got under my skin.
One woman in particular seemed to push several of my buttons. She talked quickly and frequently, coughed without covering her mouth, had difficulty hearing, and often responded with "I got it" before someone had finished explaining something.
Then there was her phone.
We were together as a group, and her phone kept making noise. I could feel myself becoming increasingly irritated.
And then something happened.
I noticed that I had been spending quite a bit of time on my own phone, using ChatGPT to explore my experiences and record my thoughts.
Oh, shit.
I was doing something very similar to the behavior I was judging in her.
There's a saying I learned years ago that has become an important part of how I navigate life:
"You spot it, you got it."
The idea is that sometimes the behaviors that bother us most in other people are reflections of something within ourselves.
And there it was, staring me right in the face.
So I put my phone away.
Nobody asked me to. Nobody told me I was being inconsiderate. I simply recognized something about myself and decided to make a different choice.
And something interesting happened.
My irritation softened.
The woman hadn't changed. Her phone was still making noise. But I was no longer quite so caught up in judging her.
Eventually, I asked her if she would mind silencing her phone.
She did.
Imagine that. I could recognize something about myself, change my own behavior, and still ask someone else for what I needed!
Who knew?
What the Other Women Taught Me
I've come to believe that everyone and everything in our lives has the potential to teach us something.
Animals have been extraordinary teachers for me. So have trees, plants, the land, and the natural world.
But people are teachers, too.
Sometimes they're the people we love most. Sometimes they're complete strangers. And sometimes they're the people we find ourselves wishing would just stop talking for five minutes.
What I've discovered is that my reactions can offer valuable information about what's happening within me.
When someone really bothers me, I've learned to become curious.
Why is this affecting me so strongly?
Is there something about this person that reminds me of myself?
Is there a behavior I recognize but don't particularly like?
Or is this simply an opportunity to recognize my own needs and express a boundary?
Because here's something important I've learned: not every irritating behavior is a mirror.
Sometimes someone is simply doing something we don't enjoy. We don't have to turn every uncomfortable interaction into an examination of our deepest wounds.
But when a reaction feels especially strong, I find it worthwhile to become curious before deciding what it means.
That curiosity has changed how I experience other people.
Instead of immediately focusing on what someone else needs to change, I can ask what the experience might be showing me.
And sometimes, when I look closely enough, I discover a little piece of myself looking back.
I traveled to Montana to learn from wolves, and I had an extraordinary encounter with a wolf named Shilo. That experience deepened my sense of connection with the natural world in ways I'm still discovering.
But the retreat also reminded me that our teachers don't always arrive in the form we expect.
Some have four legs and beautiful eyes.
Others have two legs and a phone that won't stop making noise.
And both can offer us something valuable.
You May Be Wondering…
How do I know when someone is reflecting something within me?
I don't think there's a perfect formula.
For me, it begins with noticing my reaction rather than immediately acting on it.
When someone frustrates, angers, or irritates me, I try to create a little space for curiosity.
What exactly is bothering me?
Have I ever behaved this way?
Does this remind me of someone or something from my past?
And perhaps most importantly, is there something I can learn about myself without making the other person wrong?
Sometimes the answer comes quickly. Other times, I discover that my reaction has more to do with a personal preference or a boundary that needs expressing.
Either way, I've learned something.
The next time someone pushes one of your buttons, perhaps you might become curious about what's happening inside you.
Not to judge yourself. Not to excuse someone else's behavior. And certainly not to make yourself responsible for everyone around you.
Simply to explore the possibility that there's something worth discovering.
After all, what if the person standing right beside you is one of your greatest teachers?
May you see the world through the eyes of love, remembering that we are all part of one living, sacred whole.
