I have never been able to sleep sitting up, so needless to say, I hold a certain admiration for people who can catch a few zzzs on a plane, car, or train. Pre-pandemic, when I was commuting on the metro train, I regularly saw people dozing. They exhibited various behaviors and postures that revealed they were in REM sleep or other sleep stages, and as I watched them, unable to relax with the train’s gentle jostling, I was struck with feelings of compassion for my weary traveling companions.

Sleep is a great unifier – we all need it. If we don’t get enough, it will creep up on us and make us rest, even on a loud and crowded train. I have had seatmates who might appear to be tough and tattooed to the Nth degree, but when they sleep, I can see them as human beings. They’re more like me than they might appear at first glance. Some snore, and their bodies sometimes jerk convulsively. Their heads will slump forward until the train lunges ahead after a stop and forces them back, jaws relaxed and mouths open to the sky.

I’m amazed at the tenderness I feel for people I don’t know just because their weariness makes them more like me than I would ever consider if they were awake and alert. I think it’s because I can identify with that tiredness we all feel at the end of a work day, a more positive kind of #MeToo that reminds me that I’m not the only one in the world who needs to rest and recharge. So when the large man beside me fell asleep and encroached on my seat space, his shoulder pressing into mine, I cut him a little slack. He was tired, just like me.