As anyone who’s ever cracked the code of cool would know,
judgment is a seductive little bitch.
Should I also add that anyone who’s ever cracked the code of vanity would know that
it is human nature to be a selective little sh*t too?
- Selective hearing filters the good and the bad; being judged in a flattering manner versus bad lighting. And I’m not just speaking in regards to the superficial judgment of how one might look during the night vs day. For I know that most of the time, following your heart brings anticipated judgment and most often than never it is part of living in condemnation versus living for acceptance. Do we accept it or do we continue living like an emotional hermit? Is there truly a Ying and Yang when it comes to the balance of living for you versus living for others around you?
- Being accused as a ‘compulsive people pleaser’ is not something one should wear proudly on a T-shirt. Typically like the common men, I’m afraid to really speak my emotions although carelessly I’m a verbal klutz and I speak my mind with ease. Matter of the heart is something I still struggle with and I suspect with some degree of certainty that it will be something I will continue to struggle with till the end of my mortal days.
- Apropos of expressing my doubts as to the importance of living in judgment, a friend of mine with more than a hint of appreciated sarcasm responds: “It’s like grating horseradish without tearing.”
- But of course a dexterous chef can debate that statement with the common practice of peeling the root under cold running water. But that’s beside the point she argues. “Whatever you do in life Tersh, there will always be judgment. As much as you want approval, you have to deal with rejection. In learning to accept both, you will be able to experience the beauty of freedom from within”
- Okay. A bit in shock here. Since when did my alter-ego of a friend develop some sense of worldliness within her, speaking as if she is the author of ‘The Secret’?
- Lately speaking to her has been like a religious experience. Every word she uttered in ease made me a believer. I challenged her pretentious wisdom (naturally) “But how would you know?” In which she grimaced in sheer smugness before saying “It’s not how I know babe. It’s what I know.”
I guess in a more comical sense, life is like a box of horseradish. You just know you’re going to weep like a baby, like it or not. I guess the only way to counter that is to live life without limitations. That way if you know you’re going to cry anyway, might as well have something to cry about.