Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Day 32: You Can’t Judge a Book by Its Cover

The gym to which I occasionally drag my reluctant ass declares itself to be a “Judgement Free Zone.” Aside from making me cringe every time I see this slogan misspelled, it also makes me think about how often we make snap judgments in the course of a day. And not just at the gym – where it’s easy to judge exercisers by their age, weight or general appearance. Out in the real world, we continually judge people by how they’re dressed, what they drive, where they live. We judge situations by what we know, what we don’t know and what we think we know. And even though these judgments are wrong about 99% of the time, we continue to base the majority of our actions on what we assume to be reality.

So today’s challenge was to be aware of how often I judge people, places or situations. How often I make assumptions about someone’s insides based on what I see on the outside.

-------------------------------------

Every day, weather permitting, I take a mid-morning walk. (This allows me to skip the dreaded visit to the aforementioned gym.) Although the route differs somewhat from day to day, there are just so many variations of streets in my neighborhood, so I inevitably end up passing the same homes once or twice a week. As I walked this morning, I recognized a whole lot of judgments that I make based on external environment: I know the people who live in that house with the religious statues – what hypocrites! The occupants of this small cape must have a lot of money to burn because they’re having a built-in pool dug. The woman who stuffed birdfeeders into her planters has got to be pretty eccentric. OMG, look at the mess in that backyard! Maybe I should call A&E and get them on the next episode of “Hoarders”!

Then I started thinking back to the time when I was a little girl. I used to love driving home with my parents after dark because I could look into people’s windows and try to imagine what their lives were like. I guess that was my way of judging back then, although I remember my assumptions were always pleasant ones. The families were never dysfunctional. Dinner was perfect every night. Everyone was always smiling and laughing. There were no fights or tears.

As I continued my walk, I began to think about the secrets each house held. The dreams, the fears, the hopes, the frustrations. All the stuff that makes up life. Maybe the people I thought of as hypocrites were trying to turn their life around with a good dose of spirituality. The ones digging up their yard might have saved up for years and were finally giving their kids the pool of their dreams. Since the birds ate the seeds she planted anyway, the lady who owned the birdfeeder house might as well just welcome and enjoy her feathered friends. And the messy backyard might have gotten that way because the occupants were too burdened by trying to fight their way out of financial or health problems.

Then I passed a large piece of property that was once a farm but has now been marked as the site of a new cemetery. I thought of how short our life’s journey is, and how every human being throughout time has experienced the same dreams, fears, hopes and frustrations as the occupants of those homes – and the occupants of mine. If the emotions are all the same, there’s really no room for judgment. But if I’m going to judge anyway – and let’s face it, it’s hard not to – I might as well assume that we’re all doing the best we can with what we’ve got.

No comments:

Post a Comment