31 Jul Can We Talk About The “J Word”?
Good, bad, right, wrong. How we define and apply those terms is what allows society to function. They determine which behaviors are encouraged and which are forbidden. The centrality of judgment—the “J Word” —is constant across all types of civilizations and all forms of government.
And yet, nothing is more contentious than judgment. Cultural understanding of what is actually good, bad, right and wrong changes over time in a constant wrestling for supremacy between conflicting views.
Sometimes it seems like the changes in judgment evolve in a particular direction. This is what enabled Dr. King to state that “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” At other times the changes seem chaotic and aimless, like what’s currently happening with climate change or at the US border.
Shakespeare’s Hamlet proclaimed “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” Such a relative approach to judgment can help us see beyond our own narrow perspectives, but it doesn’t address the quality of judgment.
More than anything, judgment tends to be sure of itself. When people judge, whether in homogeneous groups or as individuals, they just know that they’re own judgments are correct. If others disagree, their views are deemed suspect, flawed. With judgment comes, inevitably, a sense of superiority.
On the surface, such superiority feels satisfying, self-affirming. But underneath that surface it also carries a tightness, a closing off. This underlying quality of judgment is directly opposite to the way we feel when we’re relaxed, safe, humble, connected and loving. Simply put, judgment and compassion don’t mix.
Once this key difference between judging and lovingkindness is grasped, we still need to determine what is good, bad, right and wrong. This is true at every level, from a single person to the entire globe. That’s why in some schools of thought, especially Buddhism, there is a focus on discernment. The term discernment denotes wisdom without superiority. It suggests a neutral sensibility, and one that can coexist harmoniously with an open heart.
Years ago, Marianne Williamson said, “If you hate George Bush, that’s your problem.” Whatever you may think of her, and her current presidential campaign, she was definitely onto something back then. Judging George Bush, or even Donald Trump for that matter, leaves a trail of pain and separation in one’s own heart. It also doesn’t lead to the clearest possible perspective, or to the most constructive steps one might take to oppose the actions and policies of a leader.
If you’re reading this, it’s likely that you already agree with all or part of the argument against judgment. Yet most of us, even if unwittingly, still run largely on judgment. It’s baked into the way we relate to almost everything about which we have a strong opinion.
Our co-worker who talks too much, our teenager’s disrespectful boyfriend, that offensive new movie, racism, boxing, hypocrisy, ignorance, our own flaws, piercings, judgy people—with each such opinion comes a hardening against the opposite point of view, and often against those who hold it.
In my workshops I often share an exercise about the power of opinion. I ask the participants to look around the room and take in all the good feeling and supportive reflection they’ve shared with one another through the weekend.
Next, I ask them to silently bring forth their own opinion on the subject of abortion. Then, I ask them to imagine for a few moments that everyone else in the circle has the opposite view about abortion and holds it vehemently. Finally, I ask them to look at the other attendees again and notice any possible changes in their perception.
Routinely, almost everyone notices in themselves some degree of pulling away. A boundary arises instinctively, and with it comes at least a hint of the fight or flight response.
The point is, minds judge. Like it or not, that’s what they do. And they do it regardless of all our personal healing or spiritual development.
So if we all judge all the time and can’t stop it, and if judgment leads to clouded vision and hardened hearts, are we just doomed? Is judgment our Achilles heel?
My own answer is no. I believe that it’s possible to shift successfully from a life impoverished by judgment to one enriched by discernment.
If you’d like to learn how, please stay tuned for Part Two.
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