JUDGING

One of my jobs these days is “Transitional Coaching”. Life “in-between” endings and beginnings can be filled with confusion, chaos, fear and self-doubt. I accompany people in these spaces.

After a recent coaching session via Skype with a person in another state, I took a hike. As I walked, I thought about our conversation. But, what kept coming to me was not the words but the visual. I could only see his face and shirt collar. The back ground was blinds and a blank wall. 

I realized how much is lost in just seeing his face. There is no visual context to place the person in. I could not read body language. I realized that the limits of the visual represents the limits of my awareness of the person’s life. Through the stories he tells me I get glimpses, but only glimpses. There is so much of his life and history that are informing what he is saying to me that I will never know.

This is why I think Jesus advised his disciples to “Judge not that you be not judged.” When we make judgments about others, we often do so without very much information about how they got to where they are.  Even if we get some information, there is much that we cannot see in the screen we are using to see them.

And this is not simply a problem for our relationship with others. It is also true for ourselves. We sometimes judge ourselves with only a glimpse into what is really shaping our actions. What we do is shaped by a life-time of experience, much of it not conscious to us at the time we act. So, being critical of ourselves may not be either helpful or fair.

So, I have found that being quick to judge might take a back seat to asking questions so that we or the other person might access more of their life that it might inform their decision. When that happens, they make their own judgments and maybe make better decisions.

HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL

A quote on a torn piece of newspaper laying on the kitchen counter: “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

This is a truth that highly educated people sometimes forget. There are times when I think the more degrees we have, the less we understand what makes humans tick.  I was trained from birth to think things through.  Formal education was highly valued in my family.  All of the children in my family of origin continued in educational institutions until we had more than one college degree. We were taught to keep up with the world and to care about what we were learning.

So, I have a lot of education.  And I often forget that formal education may prepare me to think logically and use my knowledge to convince others of what I know but it doesn’t do much to sensitize me to how my approach to the information may make the other person feel.

And the fact is, most of us are more or less open to the information that we share depending on how we feel in the presence of each other.  If I make another person feel small or undervalued by the way I share the information I have, they are not likely to be open to what I have to say.

So, I want to be in relationship to people in a way that we feel connected and valued by each other. I want to notice whether others are leaning into our conversation or pulling back from it. I want to share the way I understand the world and have the other person share their insights. I want to feel valued and want the other to feel valued as well. When that happens we have a mutually enriching connection where each will feel they have gained from being in conversation.

EYES OPEN

Road trips are fun.  You never know what you are going to see.  We were driving on the interstate and saw this up ahead. Interstates are often sleepily dull. But, this was indeed a unique creature ahead of us. We couldn't figure out what it was but it got our attention.We got closer and it became clearer. We were looking at a fuselage of an airplane.  Now I had heard all my life that one of the reasons for the building of interstates was so that should there be a war, these wide highways could serve as landing strips for military aircraft. (Not sure if that is correct or not.) But I had never seen a plane do this.

The further we went we saw the rest of the story. There were the wings for this airplane.

And now we had seen it all.  This plane had been taken apart and was being shipped by truck to presumably be reassembled.

Sometimes we are confused when we hear people make a remark.  We think, "What is it that he said?"  We hear only distant echo of what the person is really talking about.  But, when we ask questions, and when we see more of the picture, things begin to make more sense.  And when we inquire further, the picture becomes clearer still.

When we keep our ears open and when we explore more deeply what we are hearing, the chances of understanding another person improve considerably.  Making judgements on the first impression may leave us responding without clearly knowing what the other person is trying to show us. And when that happens, we miss some amazing things.

THE BRAIN

My son-in-law shared advice he sometimes gives to others—and has to give himself from time to time as he functions as a stock broker.  It is advice that make sense to me. “Don’t expect other people to think with your brain.”

 I have thought about this a lot the past few days.  We can guarantee that we will spend a lot of our life disappointed if we don’t follow this advice. After all, the way our brain works is what we know to be most familiar. The way we see things is surely the way things really are. Why wouldn’t others think with our brain?

 But, while our brains all operate with the same electrical impulses and pathways, the way they are used is as various as the kinds of circumstances we have lived in and that we live in.  When Deb and I were in Cody, Wyoming a couple of years ago, we stayed in a guest house on a ranch several miles outside the town. The closest neighbor was a couple of miles away. The sky was vast and explosive, roiling with wind swept clouds and crystal clear stars. Silence settled on the night as a warm blanket.

 Spending time in that environment where a person spent a lot of time in their own company, helped me see how different the brain works than it does when I am in a swirling, chaotic, traffic clogged city. My brain feels different in the silence of wide open spaces than it does where the music blares on my neighbor’s deck while they are taking a midnight soak in the hot tub. 

 I understood how the rugged individualistic brain on the prairie was essential for survival. But, it doesn’t seem as virtuous when  I am trying to sleep in a  neighborhood where the actions of each impinge on the sleep of the other.

 Not sure how much I can think with the brain of another, but I think I will be a whole lot happier if I don’t expect others to think with my brain.  

CURSED

I read this today in the Writer’s Almanac: ”My advice to you is not to inquire why or whither but just enjoy your ice cream while it's on your plate.” (Thornton Wilder)

How, I wonder, does one like me, cursed with a compulsion to comprehend, live such advice. It seems as if my drive to understand, to take things apart and comprehend what and why, becomes so strong sometimes that I lose track of the ice cream melting on my plate.

I do know that some of the compulsion is driven by anxiety. When I get anxious about something, I want to collect more information about it. When I am anxious about losing something that is important to me, I want to know more about what people are doing. I start digging, asking questions, sharing information and seeking knowledge.  The word “why” is inflated and fills the room, taking away breathing space for something else.

Seeking knowledge is not bad things. I was nurtured at the breast of knowledge.  Seeking understanding is a virtue. The more we understand about what is happening and what others are thinking and doing, the more likely we are to respond appropriately. A lack of understanding often leads to actions that do not turn out as good as we had hoped.

But, when a seeking to understand gets intensified by fear it becomes a compulsion. And when we are obsessed with comprehending, we are often blinded to the life that is right in front of us.  We wrestle around in our mind with our conundrum while the ice cream drips off the plate to be licked up off the floor by the cat.

So, I want to follow Thornton Wilder’s advice and eat my ice cream while it is on the plate. I think I will have to spend some time looking at what is right in front of me instead of worrying too much about the future that I can’t control. Maybe then I can enjoy more fully the gifts of pleasure that make up my life.