Intolerance

My husband said that my FaceBook feed was really judgmental. I was offended and didn't say anything because I knew it was unreasonable. So, a week later, I blow up about it even though I haven't consciously thought about it in that time. It was percolating and festering and making me crazier without my permission or knowledge because I refused to acknowledge it in the first place.


Intolerance. It's a fabulous human thing that we do without conscious thought. Our subconscious does all the work for us.

I love to think that I am tolerant. But when I examine that, I have judgments about judgments. I have hangups about being told what to do. I have oh so many opinions which are all just judgments by a prettier name. Politics, parenting, partnering, working, and the ever changing what I think is right.

How do we know who we are without judgments? They rule all our relationships with others. Who we want to hang out with, who we loathe, and who we don't even notice is all determined by our subconscious judgments. Our relationships don't start out with rules, but they develop rules because of our judgments that are hidden away.

This is all very painful for me at times when I'm stuck in it. Looking at all the judgments I've made that have ruined everything, feeling guilty and not being able to fix it. I didn't know at the time what I know now. That's the prison I put myself in. It was at some of my lowest points where I was still blaming everyone else for making me feel stupid and inferior and worthless. I kept jumping from one person to the next looking for any kind word to keep myself afloat. I think I forgot myself once in a while and had fun in there too. :)

All the pain has been caused by my own judgments of myself and how the world should work. Judgment and expectation are all mixed up together in the pain. I find myself thinking, "Oh. That's judgmental too. Fuck." Usually followed by a big sigh. As I realize that yet another opposition to how I think is possible. I don't need to control that other opinion. It does have every right to exist along side my opinion and everyone else's.

Tolerance versus acceptance. Neither mean agreement. But allowing for all possibilities sets me free. It lightens my pain. Even enough to allow the joy back in.

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