I am sitting in my car at a stop light. There is a dated car in front of me with a young couple and small child in the back seat. I watch the couple seizing the moment and they kiss. The passenger in my car says something slightly sarcastic about them, impatiently, as the light is now green. I get the impatient part, but I don’t agree with the comment. My instinct is to defend the strangers. My mind wanders to my own youth, but quickly grabs onto the not so good choices I’ve made. I turn that judgmental comment onto myself.
I overhear a typical conversation about a celebrity. As the conversation continues, one person says, “Yeah, I think they’re in rehab now. “ The other person has an almost uncontrollable chuckle and bursts into laughter. I think to myself, how can someone’s struggle with addiction, possibly be funny? I find myself judging the judgers.
I sit down for lunch. I am phone browsing and people watching. I see a slender woman making healthy choices. As a not so slender woman, I am finding my own challenge with this next chapter. It’s no secret, women are judged, no matter the age, no matter the size. This I know, because I have learned to be my own judge. I judge myself in the mirror at the start of my day. I remember what I used to look like, I analyze what I am wearing now, and I make do with my new, and hopefully, temporary size. I find myself judging the fit, for making it look easy.
I return a phone call to a potential client. The conversation starts out slowly with the “how is the weather” sort of thing, then quickly turns down a strange and ugly road. I am being told that what I am doing is wrong. I am shaking and instantly insulted by the striking accusations. I pour the ounce of calm energy that I have left in myself into my mouth, I thank the person for their time and we say goodbye. Why I find the need to be gracious to someone who was not, I do not know. I continue to analyze the conversation for days, in hopes to find a thread of insight. I am exhausted with defense. I am being judged.
My son is in a play. I am nervous to hear the play in its entirety. It is a serious play about a hate crime from 1998. I am proud of my son for taking on these challenging roles. I was pregnant with him at the time the hate crime happened. My son and all the kids in the play, do an incredible job portraying the people of Laramie. This I know, because the story is still with me, several weeks later. I google Matthew Shepard’s name. Ellen Degeneres had come out just before this happened and is quoted, “I can’t stop crying, this is what I was trying to stop”. President Bill Clinton is captured on video saying, “I hope, that in the grief of this moment, and the shared outrage across America, American’s will once again, search their hearts, and do what they can, to reduce their own fear and anxiety, and anger at people, who are different, and I hope that congress will pass the hate crime legislation.” I am proud of my vote. I am reminded to search inside myself, for my own inner faith, and I hope that the children of the haters of this world, will leave those legacies behind and become better souls. The father of Matthew Shepard is quoted, “…..this is the time to begin the healing process. To show mercy to someone who refused to show any mercy…..” I am amazed by his statement. From where this original judgment began, the outcome was the end of Matthew’s life.
I come across an article on “How to deal with mean people.” The article is dateless, both literally and figuratively. The writer seems to be speaking from my own heart. I too desire to see the good in people as much as humanly possible, to the point where it has sometimes blinded me. The article goes on to enlighten, inspire and share eloquent perspective and then suggests things you can do, if you have to deal with mean people regularly. In most cases, the suggestions are realistic or doable.
Today, I sit here thinking about my own judgments, whether misplaced or validated, and the ones yet to come. I take pride, as an American, to be compassionate and defend the innocent bystander from unnecessary ridicule. I like to be someone that helps put things into perspective and enlighten someone else with a different point of view. I realize it is in my power, to have gratitude for my presence here on earth and find inspiration in others that have more will than I. I can find empathy for people who effortlessly project their uncomfortable words onto me, because it is what they need the most, and a better placement for my energy. And I do choose to have understanding for the people in the world who are different, because I believe in equality and I respect the human body, mind and spirit.
Judgment is the cognitive process of drawing one’s own conclusions. Opinions are a personal belief not founded on proof or certainty. Statements are messages and communications setting forth particulars or facts. Human action is something that people do or cause to do. The individual or combined, judgments, opinions, statements and actions can end in doubt, misfortune, defeat, insult, or even devastating results beyond what we can ever comprehend.
And so, as the year 2015 is quickly coming to an end, I reflect on my recent experiences. I am not one for resolutions, however, I can see an opportunity to be more mindful of my own thoughts. I can find more compassion, perspective, gratitude, respect and understanding. I can honestly say that I don’t know anyone who likes to be judged. But I do know that it can be easy to judge others, whether they are close friends or family, or we don’t know them at all.