When I was in high school one of the books on the required reading list was Margaret Laurence's "The Diviners".
This book changed my life. I couldn't tell you how, exactly, only that it touched me deeply and went straight to my heart and stayed there. The protagonist, Morag, spoke to me directly. I felt she was my best friend in the world.
The lessons that Morag learned, I learned, and Laurence's imagery, characters and truly great storytelling have stayed with me these many years. The writing is so good.
One of the myriad lessons that Christie, Morag's guardian, teaches her is "Judge not lest ye be judged."
A quick search tells me it's from Matthew 7:1.
As a young teenager who fancied herself a soothsayer, these words made a whole lot of sense to me and I would often preach them, believing I had the authority to do so. Youthful arrogance, anyone?
It wasn't until my late 20's when a rude awakening brought me to finally admit the truth about myself: I am judgmental.
It's a painful thing to admit and yet I know it's probably true of all of us. We're human. That's what we do.
Yesterday I was speaking with a young woman I'm helping to guide through the rocky waters of the healing path and lo and behold I found myself talking about LOVE at the very same time I was casting judgment on some of her other teachers.
Of course, I didn't realize this until later when I was obsessing over the session. Something was wrong. What was it?
A little digging, some sharing with a friend and voila! I'm humbled.
I once knew a man, an Elder, a Great Chief, who said to me, "Celia, we can't get so heavenly that we end up being no earthly good."
I would love to be able to tell you that all this inner work I do has freed me from the bondage of Celia and I never judge anyone anymore. Ha! But I strive for that freedom and, to the best of my ability, I admit when I'm wrong.
It doesn't feel good to say, "I judged that person." But it feels good to accept it and let it go.
Inspiring Message of the Day: I'm human. I'm on the path. I'm doing my best.