Once there was a man with the strangest condition. There wasn’t even a name for it, as far as anyone knew. But every time he was in a place with an entryway that faced east, he was very kind and patient and ready to connect.
And every time he was in a place where the entryway faced west, he was just about the meanest person around.
In these east-facing places, people would see the man coming and stop what they were doing just to chat and be in his presence. But in places that faced west, when people saw him coming, they whispered, “Oh hell,” and quickly went the other way.
Every once in a while, his name would come up in neutral spaces: “Oh, I’m going to visit Mr. So and So for lunch today!” And if the other person knew Mr. So and So from somewhere west-facing, they’d choke a bit and then apologize. “I’m so sorry. I know another person by that name. But...(laughing ) it couldn’t be him. No one would share a meal with the likes of him. Not for love or money.”
Oddly enough, Mr. So and So had absolutely no idea that these different directions were having such an impact on him. In his mind, he was just living his life, carrying on with his business as usual, day after day.
Until one fateful encounter…
It really was such a lovely afternoon, there inside the very quaint east-facing establishment, where Mr. So and So sat, entertaining several children at a birthday party.
The mother of the child had gotten to know Mr. So and So from another east-facing establishment, and had been swept away by his jovial demeanor and the way he charmed her son by turning napkins into puppets that told the cleverest of stories. So she asked Mr. So and So if he’d be willing to create a puppet show for her son’s birthday party. And he happily obliged.
So, there was Mr. So and So, quite enjoying himself, the children squealing with laughter, delighted by his performance, when in walked one of the children’s fathers, a man who knew Mr. So and So from a west-facing establishment.
Immediately, the man gasped. “What in hell?!”
That guy??!” he said loudly to no one in particular.
“Oh that’s Mr. So and So!” gushed another parent nearby. “Isn’t he talented?!”
“Talented?! A rear end on the wrong end is all I see!”
The man’s upset was loud enough to cause a stir.
“What do you mean?” another mother whispered. “Look! The children adore him!”
At this point, the mother of the birthday boy hurried over and whispered, “Excuse me, we’re in the middle of a birthday party here! May I help you?”
“Yes, I understand perfectly what this is. That’s my son right over there.” And with that, the man let out a loud whistle. “Tucker! Right now. Let’s get out of here.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” the mother said.
“This puppeteer you hired,” and he pointed his finger like a weapon toward Mr. So and So,
“is unfit to share any room with any child, as far as I’m concerned.”
“What are you talking about? Mr. So and So happens to be a dear friend!”
The man laughed. “Oh really? You fancy friends who shame little children until they cry and then mock their tears? And then shame their devastated parents afterwards?”
“No!” gasped the woman. “Not Mr. So and So!”
“Don’t take my word for it. I’ve got the whole horrible scene right on my phone.”
With that, the man scrolled through his phone and then pressed play. And sure enough, there was Mr. So and So, in a west-facing establishment, behaving absolutely wretchedly.
The man turned up the volume. “You’d best zip up that gaping mouth of yours right now, dumb little girl! You’re a thief! Stealing everyone’s peace! And why? because you spilled your ice cream!! Boo hoo!”
The little girl was audibly sobbing now.
“Guess what?! Nobody cares! At this very moment children are starving to death! But oh no, let’s make everyone in this entire restaurant hear the big tragedy of your spilled ice cream cone!!!”
The video was so grotesque, even the man couldn’t bear to hear any more.
“This is who you’ve hired to entertain children?” he whispered.
By this time, the puppet show had fizzled out. But Mr. So and So still had absolutely no idea what was going on.
The woman felt shocked. And betrayed.
“Is this you?” she walked over to ask Mr. So and So, handing him the phone.
Mr. So and So took the phone, confused. But when he saw himself and the abysmal person he was being in that west-facing establishment, something cracked between the East and West parts of his brain, and he collapsed with a thud.
Everyone gasped.
And when blood began gushing from his nose, some of the partygoers screamed.
“Jesus Christ,” the man muttered.
“Well, don’t just stand there!” the woman yelled. “Oh, never mind,” she said, grabbing the man’s phone which was still being clutched by an unconscious Mr. So and So. And she dialed 911.
The party organizers distracted the children with cake and ice cream and soon the ambulance arrived, and Mr. So and So was rushed to the hospital, and admitted into an east-facing room, thank goodness. And after rigorous testing, a problem was discovered: the east and west parts of Mr. So and So’s brain had zero awareness of each other.
The following morning, the woman from the birthday party went to the hospital to check up on Mr. So and So.
A doctor was in the room, and Mr. So and So seemed somewhat sedated.
“You’re so kind to visit,” Mr. So and So said softly.
“I’m glad to see you doing much better.”
“It’s a curious condition,” his doctor pondered. “Something about east-facing environments seem to bring out the healed parts of Mr. So and So, and yet something about west-facing places seem to bring out the severely unhealed parts of Mr. So and So.
“And when his west-facing behavior was brought to his attention in an east-facing environment, I’m afraid it was more than his brain could handle, and perhaps this is why the barrier between the two parts of his brain literally began to crack, and bleed through. Which, might actually have been a good thing.”
Mr. So and So said nothing.
“Well, what can you do to cure him,” asked the woman.
“I’m honestly not sure. My hunch is that
the cracked barrier might be the beginning of Mr. So and So gaining more awareness of his opposing parts.”
“This is a lot to take,” Mr. So and So mumbled. Then he paused, and a single tear rolled down his cheek. “I really don’t want to be that mean man anymore,” Mr. So and So said softly. “I want to be able to go anywhere and be in charge of who I am and how I behave.”
“Rightly so,” said the doctor.
“I have an idea!” the woman said. “Why don’t we make a video from here in this east-facing hospital room, of you talking to the west-part of your brain! And if you ever find yourself misbehaving in a west-facing environment, all you‘d need to do is watch the video and listen to the healed part of your brain!”
“What a brilliant plan,” the doctor said.
“I’ll try anything,” said Mr. So and So.
“Well, what would you want to say to your unhealed self?”
The woman handed Mr. So and So her phone and as soon as he began to speak, his eyes began to tear. And with a shaky voice, he began to tell a story, so hauntingly honest and heartbreaking that both the woman and the doctor began to cry.
Then, Mr. So and So handed the phone back to the woman, who nodded, wiped her tears and left the hospital.
She sent copies of the video to all the west-facing establishments in the area, explaining what to do if they should see Mr. So and So behaving wretchedly.
The following week, the man was feeling much improved, so he decided to venture out to get some exercise and wound up in a west-facing establishment. And without hesitation, he became triggered. And, in his typical west-facing manner, he pushed someone out of his way for getting to close to him “on purpose.”
“You just pushed me!” the other man said.
“And I’ll push harder if you ever stand that close to me again!”
Just then, the manager, following the woman’s protocol, played the video that Mr. So and So’s healed side recorded at the hospital.
And as soon as the man heard the voice, he dropped to the ground. And blood began dripping from his nose.
Chaos ensued, and some people screamed, but by then, the woman had arrived.
“Wait, everyone! This man has a condition. I know he seems wretched, but he actually needs our help. Isn’t it just the worst conundrum of all? That the people who behave the worst need the most help?
“Are you ok?” The woman leaned down and
took the man’s hand. “Remember me? We’re friends in several east-facing places.”
“I think…” the man said, seeming confused.
“I’d like to play you a video. Something you asked me to play for you if ever you should need help in a west-facing environment. Here’s what you said…”
The woman pressed play:
“Dear Me. If you’re listening and watching, chances are you’re flat on your rear with a bloody nose, confused as heck about what’s going on. So I’d like to explain. You have a condition. We, have a condition. Whenever you enter a west-facing place like the one you’re in, the west part of your brain gets triggered. And the reason it gets triggered is bc it’s hurt. But you might not remember why it’s hurt. But I do. Bc I’m from the east part of your brain. But I’ve managed to stay safe from getting hurt.
“Growing up, our home was west-facing. And we never had a happy moment there. Every time we entered that house, we’d get hurt by our stepfather. While our mother did nothing. She watched as our stepfather humiliated us. As he tortured us. As he withheld everything that we wanted, and then laughed. He refused to let our mother comfort us. Her body was there, but she didn’t keep us safe. She let him hurt us. Again and again. And something about that direction left an imprint on our brain. So every time we enter a west-facing place, we somehow enter that same west-facing house, and all the pain returns.
“The reason I never got hurt was bc we were able to keep this part of us safe. But every time we enter a west-facing place, I hide in here. And I’ve never been able to come out when you needed me. Bc we were too scared of this part of us getting hurt too. You wanted to protect us. And you’ve done so much fighting. But all these people, they’re not our mother, they’re not our stepfather. You don’t need to fight them. They haven’t ever hurt us.”
The man began to sob.
After a moment, the woman spoke. “Let’s recreate this space for you,” she said, placing the phone back in her purse.
The woman then motioned for the other people in the room to gather around Mr. So and So.
And they gathered in a circle around him and held hands.
“You’re safe here now,” said the woman. “No one will hurt you here. All of us, we are here to protect you. Whoever hurt you in the past isn’t here anymore. You have a part that’s still so hurt. But you also have a part that stayed in tact. A part that feels free to come out in the east. But we want to invite that part to come out here and comfort the hurt part. Let’s cherish that part that got hurt. Let us earn his trust.”
The man was now sobbing and he stood up. He hugged himself first, as if his healed self was finally able to comfort his hurt self for the first time. And then one-by-one he gave each person around the circle a hug.
“I’m so sorry for the harm that I’ve caused. Please let me make it up to you.”
“All we want is for you to feel safe here,” the manager said. “And we can remind you that you’re safe here. We know who you are now. And we care who you are.”
After that day, Mr. So and So was a very different person. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say he was a more free person. He could go wherever he wanted and when he found he was getting triggered, he would play the video on his phone and listen to his healed self, and allow this part of him to breath love into the part of him that hurt until he felt whole.
And once he felt whole, what he loved to do best was share himself and connect with the other people in his community, who were always glad to see him, no matter where he was.
-JLK
