Tag: judgement

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What people watching teaches you

Sitting in the Dallas/Fort Worth Airport, a bustling hub of international travel, recently, I carved out moments to engage in what may be one of my favorite activities. People watching. Favorite not because I’m sizing up who might attack me, rob me, or otherwise cause a personal affront, with sinister motives, nor because I’m a weirdo. I love people watching because people are endlessly fascinating.

Throughout my kids lives, we frequently flew to Orlando to visit family. Once or twice a year I’d board when they were toddlers, holding their tiny hands for dear life. I had the notion that perhaps something sinister was happening and if prone to wander, they’d quickly be taken. Gone in a blink to one of dozens of destinations on the overhead screens. When my son spent a quarter abroad in college, I wanted to, but did not, refrain from warning him not to get taken. I don’t have the skills of Liam Neeson in the movie of the same name. A movie which, though I never watched it, terrified me as a mother nonetheless.

Looking up and around

In the last decade, I’ve travelled regularly for work and pleasure and found myself killing time waiting for connecting flight. Within the terminal, you glimpse a microcosm of American culture. It’s as though we’ve been tossed in a blender and swirled around. Left a little dazed and figuring out what’s happening next. So, to a degree, 90% of us are on an equal playing field. But spend any time truly seeing people and you realize you’re not.

There’s the young mother, traveling alone with an infant and toddler. Perhaps always alone. On her way to where though? A spouse, a parent, a friend, vacation? Or the gaggle of teens who were not only in the terminal but now also on your plane headed to a volleyball tournament (from what I’ve gleaned). Mothers in-tow. Or service members headed to or returning from providing an unquantifiable service to each of us. The young family with at least four kids trailing behind, on vacation. The story I tell is it’s one they’ve saved for years to take.

Looking around and … judging?

People watching may also be tinted with people stalking. To reiterate, no, I’m not a weirdo. But the people who start at your home airport and continue through all your connections. They’re like an old friend, the quick nod of acknowledgment as you pass. Why are they on the plane today? Curiosity sometimes causes me to ask, but not always. I’ll also let my mind wander to the possibilities.

I notice that people watching brings out an urge to not only have curiosity, but also judgement. As in, how can that young family of 6 afford an expensive vacation? Are they going into debt? And I don’t like it. So much so that I diligently work to redirect when I notice judgement rising inside me. Look for the positive side…remarkable the family could take vacation. But I think about the judgement because our judgement of other people is usually an indication of how we judge ourselves.

Judging but looking in

Maybe, people watching and our inner monologue about our observations is a mirror, a reflection to our own thoughts about ourselves? What would be different if you believed that was true? I believe it shows me fears, insecurities, and the narrative of my inner judge. Sit with that thought again. Our observations of others are a mirror of ourselves.

Maybe my efforts to be kind to strangers in my thoughts and deeds are an indication I’m being kinder to myself. That’s not always been the case. I’ve spoken to myself far more harshly than I would to any other person, tenfold. The disdain I’ve shown for clumsiness, body image, mistakes, failures, insecurities, fears, has been unrelenting. Not written to shock anyone, written because it’s true and for a fact I know I’m not alone. But that’s shifting noticeably, as have my observations while people watching.

Looking in and truly seeing

Could you get curious? Use your observations, judgements of others, as a reflection (a projection), of what you observe and judge in yourself? Those judgements we place on others are a projection, so listen carefully to your mental narrative. Unless and until we can truly see ourselves, we will struggle to live our authentic lives. And if we’re a hot mess? Then we can be a hot mess we embrace and love, not judge. Be curious, see yourself and see others. You might find you love what’s right in front of you. Be brave. Lisa

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Return to simple love

let friends be themselvesHave you ever watched a baby playing? Around nine months old when they’re curious and amused by the smallest of actions. They’re mobile enough to be getting into things, but still at the age where it takes little to create joy on their faces. I was delighted the other day to have a co-worker bring her son to work for a few hours. One, I have an affinity to this kid because he shares the name of my son, Bodie. Second, babies at work bring a lightness to what, at times, can be a serious atmosphere.

Bodie sat on the floor next to the door and swung it one way, crawled over to where it landed, and swung it the other. In all honesty, I sat watching him as though he was baby Einstein solving advanced calculus problems. Back and forth…over and over. I thought in that moment how simple life is when we’re babies. Our reality is made up of that which is directly in front of us…our mom…and our dad. Our challenges are putting Cheerios into our mouth with accuracy and working on walking.

Somewhere along the way though, a narrative begins forming in our minds. We start to make sense of what’s happening around us, the relationships we have. We fill in blanks for ourselves when the story doesn’t quite make sense. There’s a learning about what helps us succeed in our life, even at a young age. Behaving, learning, achieving, it becomes evident what makes our parents give us praise. Human nature loves that praise…as young children we figure out the system.

At least, we figure out the system that works for us, in our family. But not all families are the same. As a young child, I had to go to bed EARLY, I mean….my friends were still outside playing, right outside my window in the meadow in front of our home. It seemed unfair, why did they get to stay up? Granted, it was still light as day…stays light past my 7 p.m. bedtime in the summer. But still. And, the injustice of other kids being able to eat sweets whenever they wanted! I got a quarter, once a week, to walk to the store and get a piece of candy. In hindsight, that one wasn’t a bad strategy. I was in my 30’s before I had my first cavity.

The comparisons we form lead to judgement. As we grow into adulthood, our experiences, the realities of childhood, become ingrained in us. We start using our reality to measure others. To judge them. How your family loaded the dishwasher or put on the toilet paper roll becomes a yardstick for measuring right and wrong. Of course, that’s the tip of the iceberg, if we’re not careful, our judgement can run deep into core beliefs and measuring others against our standards.

That’s the point where the rubber meets the road in relationships. We weren’t raised by the same two people and how I made sense of the world may not be how you made sense of the world. What do you do then? In simple terms, you seek to understand. Understand their perspective. That doesn’t mean you have to adopt it but understanding where they’re coming from is a starting point for conversation. It’s easy to slip into wanting to judge another’s belief as right or wrong, but that’s not our job. Our job is understanding and giving space for people to be themselves. Our job is to love, not to clobber. To remember that we have a lifetime of input behind our beliefs, but so does the other person. We were born uniquely us and continue to be that way. If we could learn to love people where they are, I believe we’d have solved one of life’s biggest challenges.  Star with today, and then tomorrow, love other people, just as God loves us.

 

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Why have an anthem?

Vulnerability 2For as long as I can remember, I’ve gravitated to music that is big. Ballads, big female voices, dramatic crescendos, swells…think Celine Dion, Whitney Houston, lately a little bit of Lady Gaga. BIG. Songs that fill a room and might leave you crying in a puddle on the floor at the same time. Throughout the years, I’ve found myself drifting away, but always returning to a song, or finding new ones, to put on repeat. When my kids were young, I’d blast it in the car, we’d all be singing along and then…I’d turn it off…catching them mid-song each time…and then we’d laugh and laugh. But even today, they know the words to all the songs. You’re welcome.

The songs I’ve put on repeat over the years have changed, again, Celine Dion is always a leader, but there’s always been one. Lately, This is me, by Kesha has been on the playlist. It’s from The Greatest Showman movie, which, I literally only saw last night. I’ve caught the song, here and there, mainly at women’s events, not surprisingly. It has all my required elements, big swells, compelling lyrics, a dramatic finish. I can’t get enough of it. For the first time, I’ve decided to call a song my anthem.

Anthem’s are nothing new. They arise to provide people with an anchor, something to hold tight, to rally around in unity or in protest at times. But an anthem defined is “an uplifting song identified with a particular group…or cause.” This is me rallies for the underdog, the marginalized, those who are cast aside. While that’s not my story, my heart hurts for people who are overlooked, or marginalized for being who they are.

Maybe it’s because of my own beginnings. As a child with a prosthetic leg, you stand out. Before you think I’m going down a traumatic tale, I’m not. But, you stand out. People look at you, other kids, adults. And they ask questions. Today, I roll with all of it, but as a child, or a young teen, all you want to do is fit in, and you don’t.

I wish I could understand the component of human psyche that explains why some people struggle to be in proximity with different. We are all different, to varying degrees, some of our differences are simply visible. But whether internal or external, different is only different. It’s nothing else. It’s not less.

That’s what I notice, the tendency to hone in on less, to pinpoint the difference and label it as bad, or wrong, or weird. This can be viewed as a form of deflecting, we judge in others what we are uncomfortable or unhappy with in ourselves.

My heart breaks for people who find themselves in the margins. I could say “because I’ve been there,” but only from the standpoint that I know the feeling of having people stare. I’ve been fortunate to have people remind me I’m loved, but that’s not always the case. That is where my heart hurts. Maybe that’s why I love an anthem. It’s a rallying point. This is me was a rallying point in the movie for the sideshow, people who were in the circus solely for their difference. Even then, despite the draw, they were kept in the shadows, until they weren’t.

The song, my anthem, embraces the individual, just as they are. Just as God created them, created you, created me. Will you be bold enough today to do the same?