Forever, I have been judged. From the strict and often odd religious upbringing to my peer interactions, to working tirelessly in college, to competing in the workplace, to looking in the mirror and declaring “You’re fat,” judgment is part and parcel with me.
And so I judge. I look at politicians like they are not human. I perceive ranters as insane and dangerous. I see wealthy people and I think “selfish.”
I judge—we all do—based on our prejudices, upbringing, experience, fear and resentments.
The magnet on my refrigerator. It says, “Be gentle with yourself.” When I try, I don’t judge myself so harshly. And so I don’t judge others so harshly either—or at least, I can say, “It’s not my job to judge.” That’s real peace.____________________________
Last year, I took part in the "Letters of Gratitude" course during which we were tasked to write 30 letters on 30 different topics until we reached a place of thankfulness. Above is my 18th letter.