Many people these days seem to be off put by judgment.

They don’t like politicians who sling mud at opposing parties. They don’t like religious fanatics who pronounce judgment on sinners. They don’t like ex-wives who tell the kids that dad is a jerk.

That’s interesting. I find that all very interesting.

Someone told me recently that they were embarrassed by their own skin, literally,  how it looks, how it feels.

Someone told me recently that they lacked confidence, with others — almost always.

Someone told me recently that they had a lot of guilt, when really, as far as I can tell,  this person has done nothing much wrong. They aren’t old enough!

Someone confessed to me, “I don’t know if I’ve done enough good to outweigh the bad I’ve done.”

People don’t like judgment and yet it  seems that many people are  the harshest judge of themselves that they know. People judge themselves in ways that they would never judge others.

I heard that someone told their friend a while back, “People don’t like us!”  I know both these people. It isn’t true. Both are liked.

Most all of us, if we hear a baby crying will pick up the baby and comfort it, not scold it. And yet when we cry inside, we too often scold ourselves for the very feelings we should embrace, comfort and sooth.

Yesterday, at a picnic I attended, one of the little boys present whacked his head on the tailgate of a pickup. He bellowed. I held him. He leaned into me. He was comforted. His mom came. He was comforted again.

This is the model for how we should treat ourselves. There will be jugment, but better yet is discernment, and better yet is tolerance and compassion and mercy.

We would all do well, I think, to hold ourselves more when we whack our heads against life, and to bring a little pat and not another whack to the little one within.

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