I judge.
I admit, I do.
When I see someone driving their kids in a car while smoking a cigarette, I judge.
When I see a parent repeatedly making what the child already knows are empty threats (if you do that one more time you are NOT coming on the family trip to Disney World), I judge.
When I see people at the gym, taking up space on the treadmill but not using it and then giving the stink-eye to someone who asks if they are using it, I judge.
When I see someone assume that their one view is the only correct view, I judge.
When I see people judge others, I judge – ironic, no?
I admit it. I judge people all the time. I even let it out once in a while for public consumption. It ain’t right, in my opinion, but I do.
Passing judgement, I think, is a natural thing. It’s like water, easily flowing downstream from your brain to your mouth (where you announce your judgment) or fingers (where you type it out for all to see).
Very often, I find, that passing judgement then puts up a wall, a dam, a defensive fortification, if you will. We will stand behind that Great Wall of Judgement, right or wrong, to the bitter end, flinging stones and arrows.
But what happens when we step outside the wall and take a moment to understand, or at least TRY to understand?
***
A couple of months ago I passed judgement on a fellow parent for smoking a cigarette outside my daughters’ school. There was a time when I was much younger that I smoked, but I eventually came to a place where I knew it was not right for me, so I quit. I also came to a place where I didn’t care if people smoked as long as they didn’t do it around my children (or any kids for that matter). I ripped into this parent passive-aggressively online – how could he be smoking outside the school? what kind of parent is he? what’s the matter with him?
I felt pretty superior. A couple of people piled on.
But then my dear friend Woody chimed in – he essentially asked me what did I know about this guy really? what did I know about his addiction?
It gave me pause. It made me think. His comment didn’t necessarily change my mind, but it did soften my stance a bit. The truth is, we know that cigarette smoking is bad for you, but this guy I am sure already knows that. For me the issue was smoking in front of the school and around kids. For him, whether he knew it or not, the issue may be a question of the power of his addiction. The point is, I didn’t know this guy at all.
***
Gee, I’m not doing a really good job of making my point here, am I?
What I’m trying to say is this – very often when disagreements come up, we think we are fighting from diametrically opposed positions, whether it’s smoking, politics or parenting in the autism community. I think that more often than not, we are not comparing apples to apples and that if we really took the time to put ourselves in others’ shoes, we would find that we are a lot more similar than we think – and even if we are arguing apples to apples, it’s usually more along the lines of Granny Smith to Red Delicious.
I fail on a daily basis to walk in another’s shoes, but that does not mean I stop trying.
So this guy is on his third day without a cigarette. Anyone who has ever tried to quit smoking knows that the third day can be the hardest. The nicotine is almost completely gone from your system, but there’s just enough still there to make the cravings intense and the willpower a real struggle.
He thought about buying a pack at lunch. He’d just blown the big meeting, lost the account they’d been working for months to get. But he’s really proud of himself. He got a candy bar instead. He’s going to put on weight, but he figures that’s better than smoking.
When he gets back to the office he has a message from his wife, it’s urgent.
They’re late with her chemo and won’t be done till after 4pm. He’ll have to get the kids from school. She tells him. And can he stop by the pharmacy to get her scrip filled? Then he’ll swing by the hospital to get his wife. She’ll be too sick to help with dinner and homework and dishes. And the girls have ballet tomorrow so he’ll have to make sure the laundry gets done so they have their dance clothes to wear.
So he goes to tell his boss that he has to leave a little early. And his boss says that it’s the last straw. He can just not come back tomorrow. So now he’ll have to tell his wife that he’s just lost his job. And the his job carries the insurance.
And he realizes he’s late already.
So he leaves. Gets to the school and sees a mom light up in her car. He bums a smoke and stands outside the school, outside his car, ‘cause he doesn’t want his car to smell like cigarettes and trigger his wife’s nausea when she smells it. He doesn’t want his kids to breathe the second hand smoke.
So he lights up outside the school. And he feels guilty about it. But he does it cause his life is freaking hard right now…
Either that or he’s just a jerk.
I agree that you should never stop trying!
Love you,
Mom