Not to judge

When facilitating group discussions or a setting up a good working environment, we often talk about a 'safe space' -- a place where people don't get hurt and aren't afraid to get hurt.  One of the ground rules of a 'safe space' is that we're not supposed to judge.

I've always had trouble understanding this one.  What does it mean not to judge?  Don't our minds make judgments automatically all the time?  Is it possible to stop these thought processes and just accept information without interpreting it, linking it with other things and thereby judging it?  Is it really possible not to judge?

At first, I thought that maybe the issue isn't so much in the thoughts but in the actions that result from those thoughts.  It's hard to control our thoughts.  We have a much better handle on actions.

Perhaps not judging really means not letting our thoughts cause us to say things or do things that make people feel hurt -- i.e. things that make people feel less or smaller or wrong or unworthy.  The actions may be very subtle and almost subconscious -- a scoffing, rolling eyes, subtle turning away, a dismissive tone, a condescending attitude.  Maybe it's not so much that we shouldn't judge but that the way we act or the words we say should not make people feel judged.  We should not make people feel hurt or belittled.

Yes, that's true.  We need to make sure we don't hurt people with our actions.

Then, I realized that we can take it a step further than that.  Yes, we can control our thought processes too.  Yes, we can suspend judgment.

It's a matter of consciousness.  And patience.  And humility.

Because to judge inevitably requires making assumptions.  You have evidence of A and then you make assumptions (based on experience or logic) that links A to B.  And you keep making links.  Until you come to the conclusion that a spelling mistake or two or three means that the writer is incompetent or lazy or doesn't care.  Ouch.

That's judging.

And it doesn't have to happen that way.  Sure, there's a spelling mistake.  But it could be there for any number of reasons.  And not judging means that you don't close off possibilities.  And you don't insist on coming to a conclusion. 

Yes, there's a spelling mistake.  But you don't really know why there's a spelling mistake.

This is consciousness.  To know that you don't know.  And to know that there are many possible, perfectly fine explanations behind any piece of evidence.

So you don't close doors.  You leave them open and let more of the story come to you. 

This is where the patience comes in.

It can be uncomfortable not knowing.  Because you realize that you're not in control.  You don't know. 

It takes some humility to accept that.

Ultimately, though, the truth is you really don't know much.  There's a whole life story behind that email.  And you can't possibly know and make conclusions on it based on the placement or misplacement of a single letter.

And if you can just wait and let more of the story come to you, the opportunities and insights and new perspectives and gifts that come through that open door can change your life.

It depends who's asking

Sean Covey writes about a Relationship Bank Account in his advice to teens and their parents.  He writes about how, through your actions, you can make deposits that strengthen the relationship and withdrawals that weaken the relationship.  What constitutes a deposit or a withdrawal depends on each person's unique needs and expectations from the relationship.

I was thinking about this bank account analogy today with regards to the favours that our friends ask of us.  There are some people, who we'd do just about anything for if they asked us.  Beyond that, we're actually happy when they ask us to do things.  We're honored.  It's like they've got VIP status at our bank and they get bonus points for their transactions.

Conversely, there are people who don't have that status.  These are the random people we hardly know who make extraordinary requests.  When they make such requests, it's like they're trying to write a cheque for a sum that's greater than the balance in their account.  Not only will they not be able to cash that cheque, but the account will be hit with a stiff NSF fine as well.

People fuel

Have you ever seen people contribute enthusiastically towards a project and then lose that enthusiasm until they're only doing the bare minimum to get by?  It's like they had tons of fuel and then it ran out, making any further progress painful and slow.  Previously enthusiastic team members start resenting the project and, sometimes, even each other.

I watched this unfold recently and I started wondering what happened?  What went wrong?  How can someone who is normally so helpful and generous become so reluctant and stingy?

My theory: people need fuel to work.  In particular, they need respect and appreciation.  Imagine working in a group where people are disrespecting you and ignoring your contributions.  How much extra work are you going to contribute?

It's not hard to give respect and appreciation.  It's a matter of listening to people's opinions and giving them due consideration.  It's giving people responsibilities commensurate with their abilities and resources.  It's answering emails -- even if the answer is 'I don't know'.  It's trusting people and not second-guessing them or asking them to defend every single decision they make.  It's thank you's and recognition of their contributions.  It's amazing how far people can go with a little fuel -- and how difficult it is to move forward when that fuel is missing.

An attitude of generosity

One of the things I've learned from living with over 20 different roommates in the past eight years, is that it helps to have an attitude of generosity.

Generosity encompasses much more than giving money.  We can be generous in our thoughts by thinking well of people and giving them excuses when things go wrong.  We can be generous in our words by thanking people, complimenting them and praising their good work.  We can be generous in our time by listening, spending time with people and paying attention to them.  We can be generous in our actions by doing things that we think others would appreciate.  It could be washing dishes or taking out the garbage or choosing to buy the type of juice or cereal they like or adjusting the driver's seat of the car after we're done with it so that they don't have to adjust it themselves when they use it next.  The possibilities for being generous are endless -- and most of them, especially the most meaningful ones, have nothing to do with money.

Having an attitude of generosity goes a long way towards living happily with people.  The key is, in our generosity we mustn't come with an expectation of reciprocation from others.  Some people may be generous in return and some may not.  We may also find our generosity rewarded in ways that we could never have foreseen.  But even if we don't see such rewards, internally we feel the reward of our generosity through a goodness growing in our hearts.  And ultimately, we pray that the final rewards of our generosity come from The Most Generous.

Thanking people

There's a hadith that says whomsoever does not thank people, has not thanked God.  And there's a verse in the Qur'an that says "If you are thankful, I will surely give you more." (14:7).

If you look at the verse on it's own, the connection between being thankful and getting more is not that obvious.  Of course we believe that it's true, but how being thankful can get us more is not clear.  We believe in the connection as an act of faith.

The hadith, however, gives a clue to at least one mechanism through which being thankful can get us more.  People are far more inclined to give to those who appreciate their efforts than to those who don't.  So, by thanking people, we endear ourselves to them so that they will be inclined to give us more.  It's one way that God gives us more if we are thankful.

Useful - not used

A good leader makes people feel useful, without making them feel used.

Exclusion

There is a hadith that says, if three people are together, two of them should not whisper to each other in the presence of the third because it would sadden him.

I always thought that third person would be hurt because he would think that the other two were whispering about him.

I realized recently that it's not just that.   Even if he knows exactly what the other two are talking about, the third person could be hurt simply because he is being excluded.  What he sees is that for some reason, he is not good enough to be included with the other two.  Whether the whisperers are excluding the third person intentionally or they are just mindlessly exchanging information that they didn't think the third person was interested in, the effect is the same.

As social creatures, exclusion creates in us a very distinct kind of pain.  Unfortunately, even though it's felt very acutely, the social pain of exclusion can be inflicted completely unintentionally -- with the perpetrators oblivious to the hurt of their victim.  Since victims don't always share their pain with those who have inflicted it, the perpetrators often remain oblivious, which leaves them prone to hurting people again in a similar way.

May we all be guided and protected from hurting people this way and from being hurt by them.

Asking for help

It's hard to ask for help.

When I was writing my thesis, I struggled alone for months -- maybe even a year or more -- afraid to ask for help.  I didn't think anyone could help me.  I didn't want to burden anyone with my problems.  I was afraid of what people would think of me if I came to them with such a terrible piece of work.  I was afraid they would think I was incompetent. 

Fortunately, with help from friends and family (who came to help me before I was able to ask), I learned to ask for help.  This was one of the biggest lessons I took from graduate school.   It was instrumental to me finally being able to finish and graduate.

Now, while I'm taking time off and I'm not working or studying, I get to see asking for help from another perspective.

Without work or school, it's easy to feel lost, to feel out of place, to not have a place to belong.  I think the main reason I've been spared much of that is that people ask me for help.

It's little things, like picking up groceries, editing an essay, helping my neighbour bake muffins, or taking my friend's child to the doctor.  It takes just a few minutes here, maybe a couple of hours there.  None of the tasks are difficult or extraordinary, but the pleasure and satisfaction I get from first being asked and then being able to do something are tremendous.   I'm honoured.  I feel like I belong somewhere.  I feel like I matter and that I make a difference -- however small it may be.

It's like those puzzle pieces.  When we struggle alone, we're like separate pieces lying scattered on the table.  When we ask and give help, we're putting pieces together.  We're giving each other a place to fit.

Seventy excuses

One of the great early Muslims, Hamdun al-Qassar, said, “If a friend among your friends errs, make seventy excuses for them.  If your hearts are unable to do this, then know that the shortcoming is in your own selves.”

I use this one a lot.

I love working in the community where the efforts of a group of people combine to create something greater than the sum of its parts.  But, as in any enterprise involving people, mistakes will be made.  The ball will be dropped (sometimes by me, which is another reason why I use it a lot).  And often, things will not go exactly as planned. 

When this happens, rather than attribute the error to malice, carelessness and disrespect, we make excuses for our friend.  We don't even need to make seventy.  I find once I get to two or three, I start feeling better already. 

I've always thought of this tradition as a good way of maintaining social relations.  And it is.  It keeps us from planting seeds of ill will against each other.  But besides that, it also helps us maintain a good emotional state within ourselves.  For as much as the way we see the world might affect how we treat other people, it really affects ourselves the most.

Puzzle pieces

I love jigsaw puzzles. While helping my neighbour with her jigsaw puzzle one evening, I started thinking that puzzle pieces are a lot like people. They're all different. They have different shapes and different colours. On their own, they even look a bit quirky and odd. But each one of the protrusions that awkwardly jut out from one puzzle piece will fill a cavity in another piece. When we start bringing pieces together, we start finding places where every piece fits. And when every piece has been placed where it fits, we have a beautiful picture.

Humans from the Inside

My friend is a medical student. She was telling me about her surgery rotation. In the operating room she came to realize that on the inside, we’re all about the same. All of us have the same organs, bones, fluids… Seeing humans from the inside made her realize how truly shallow our society is. The appearances that we care so much about are such a minuscule part of what we are, physically. While on the inside, where it really counts, we are very much the same.