That Little Voice

I’ve been thinking about how often I have misjudged someone.

It’s difficult to change my mind, so once I have formed an opinion about someone, I don’t want to give it up and admit I didn’t know what I thought I did.

That may be the problem with the woes of the world right now. Do we really know what motivates people to do what they do, or what they believe? Doubtful.

And if I don’t agree with them, then I can come up with lots of negative reasons to condemn and berate them. Having a philosophical difference in opinions is one thing, but looking at someone’s behavior and knowing why they are acting the way they are is above my pay grade.

The truth is, that someone may not know why they are doing what they are doing. Most of the time I don’t know why I do things. Why did I take that road to work rather than another? Why do I want carrots and peas for dinner rather than Brussel sprouts (maybe because I don’t like those sprouty things)?

I look at my own life and see the absolute dumb or cruel or stupid or crazy things I have done or said, and don’t ask me why. I just did them. People can judge me based on those actions I took, but is that an accurate assessment?

And perhaps it isn’t something said or done, but some action I didn’t take. Maybe I should have taken a step to help or been more sensitive about someone’s feelings.

I know, I know, the moral of the story is not to judge, but hey, how realistic is that? Of course, we judge, of course we evaluate, of course we have opinions, and usually voice them. In my case, I usually voice them loudly for the world to know. Then make believe I didn’t really say or do whatever silly thing I did.

I’m reminded once again what my Grandmother would say when I uttered, “I don’t like her.” She would calmly correct me saying, “You don’t like her ways.” Oh, to be that wise.