In

I am judgmental. It is a knee-jerk reaction. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t this way, but I can remember a time when I didn’t try to harness it. It may be a natural human emotion, but early in my twenties, when I really began learning about the world and people, I began seeing this judgmental feeling for what it was: immature. So, I try to do better, to not make assumptions, and to give people a chance. After all, this is what I want done for me, isn’t it? It makes sense, it is more kind, it is what love would do.

It is also hard.

In fact, the hardest part may be that when you find yourself being judgmental, and you’ve been practicing a while to not be, you discover it is rooted in fear. Mine, in particular, is rooted in compartmentalization, and my own fear that makes compartmentalizing necessary; I am not inadequate when I distinguish our differences. But when I consciously erase the lines, put every thing and everyone into the one large picture that is reality, the fear is obvious. It is vulnerable and glaring. I realize, over and over again, that the problem really isn’t judgment, the problem is me.

The most prominent example of this in my life is yoga classes. The thing about yoga is, it is different for everyone. Every person is on their own path and point in their progress and accomplishment. It is a metaphor for life, really. A reminder that though we are so very similar, we are also individuals not to be compared. Our strengths and weaknesses are what makes us whole, not better or worse than another. Certainly not to be judged by another. And yet there are always those people my mind quickly jumps to judge. I think many people who’ve worked out in a group setting can identify with this. There is always something there challenging your peace, your ability to fully be in the moment. It might be what they’re wearing, it might be a noise they make, maybe it’s even their presence. Look, I know I can annoy someone with only a glance, and so it shouldn’t be a surprise that someone else can also do that to me, even unknowingly.

In a few of the classes I attend there’s always one or two people who are… overachievers. Or at least that is what I was calling them in my mind. As someone who doesn’t generally set out to do things I won’t do well, this is hard. Because in years of practicing yoga, it still challenges me in a lot of ways. Yes, that is what it is meant to do. YES, that is the metaphor I mentioned earlier. We are allowed to be growing– that is the point. But in my mind I saw these people who pop up easily into a handstand, and do poses that I’ve never even heard the name of with such ease as something that makes me angry. Or, they don’t do any of these things well but they act as if they do, and that makes me irritated. Honestly, where do I get off? I know.

Yes, the problem is me. But whenever the problem is me, I know the solution is always me. I believe that is one of the greatest gifts we are given, to be resourceful enough to resolve our own problems, even if they are cloaked in fear and pain and the assumed annoying presence of other people. So a few weeks ago in a class, I decided to not try to avoid these annoying people, but to absorb them instead. I decided to stare at these women, with their muscular bodies and always perfectly coordinating clothing, and really take in what they are. There is a lot of beauty in an annoying stranger, it turns out.

And, dammit, there is a lot to learn.

Instead of seeing someone who I’d only created in my mind, I saw someone who I only knew through their physical presence. I don’t know this woman’s past, I don’t know the sound of her voice or if she has pets or children or a home, even. I only know what I see: a woman who can move through a space in a room with other people, often quite beautifully. A woman whom I can watch and learn something from to then better move through my space in this room. Once I saw that, I realized I had made this person me. I had made her human. And since I know what it is to be human, I have to assume she does too. Since I know the mixture of fear and pain and lessons and beauty I’ve endured, I have to assume she does too.

Wouldn’t you know it, once I began absorbing these people into myself, caring about what we were to each other in only that moment, my experience became astoundingly more peaceful. I smile more. I talk to more people, I introduce my friends to more people. We have bigger, more involved conversations in the locker room. They are not annoying people. They are me. And I am them. No one is out, we are all in. It’s nice in here.

He drew a circle that shut me out-
Heretic , rebel, a thing to flout.
But love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle and took him In!

From the poem ” Outwitted”
― Edwin Markham