The Things We Avoid

There are things we don’t like to acknowledge about ourselves, or at least about what happens in our inner lives.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about one such thing I have experienced.

I have these moments where I will see or briefly interact with someone and hear a “micro judgment” run through my mind. As soon as I notice it, I’m briefly taken aback. I think, where did that come from? and why would I think that? Then I go on about my day.

I seem to become more aware of these little moments now that I have taken time to recognize them. I’m intrigued by them. I have theorized that perhaps they’re “not my own.” Maybe they come from the collective field. Or maybe it’s some “dark” aspect of myself. I don’t really know.

I’ll see someone and hear a thought like “oh, they’re fat” or “they must be lazy.” The list goes on. Just small judgments and stereotyping.

I was outside watching the morning dew, the sun rising over the horizon with birds singing around me, tea in hand. I was thinking again about this very experience of “micro judgments” and wondering where they came from.

Then I started thinking about some recent experiences with my own employees. I was thinking about moments where they seemed “unwilling” or “unable” to complete a task I’d given them.

My first instinct: they’re lazy. Not the sharpest tool in the shed. They just don’t care.

Then I remembered something else.

I had a few employees recently who came to me expressing how they could not properly do their jobs because of X or because of Y. I offered ways for them to improve those conditions, but they gave more reasons why they couldn’t do those either.

Why is it that they seem resistant to do what they need to do in order to improve their own working conditions?

The question reminded me of something that’s been kicking around in my head lately: You must attend to the things that need attending to.

If something’s broken, fix it.

If we don’t fix it, we run into that broken thing repeatedly. Each time, we feel irritation, annoyance or sadness over that unaddressed, unresolved issue.

That energy builds up through countless small moments, compounding over time.

When you finally address that thing, you’re investing in yourself and your own well-being. Isn’t that worth the time or money it takes? Worth learning a new skill or spending a few extra seconds on a work task? Because in the end, you will have a freer, more harmonious life by taking that little bit of extra time to address what needs addressing now, instead of later.

So maybe next time I see an employee struggling and that micro-judgment floats to the top of my mind, perhaps I can think back to this moment. Sometimes we are not all ready to address what needs addressing.

Yes, 10 minutes might fix their issue and help them have a better experience at work. But maybe they are stuck in a place where those 10 minutes feel insurmountable.

We have all been there. The trash piles up in the house. It starts to stink, it looks bad. We walk past it, feel that disgust. It would only take 2 minutes to take it out, but we put it off just a little bit longer. Each time we pass it we do the same, each time experiencing more disharmony because that 2 minutes feels impossible in that moment.

And sitting here now editing this document, I realize I walk past my own metaphorical pile of trash sometimes.

There’s a conversation I need to have, something that needs fixed. But some part of me always finds a way to avoid addressing it.

It may only take twenty minutes. Maybe thirty if it goes long.

But every day I don’t address it, I carry it with me. A quiet weight. A background hum of unease. And every day I remember and still don’t do it, I pass a small judgment on myself.

The same harsh voice I’ve heard projected at others is now turned on myself, sharp and constant. Almost silent.

But maybe I’m not lazy. Maybe those twenty minutes feel insurmountable to me the same way ten minutes feels insurmountable to the employee I was judging.

Maybe the first step toward attending to what needs attending isn’t forcing myself to do it. Maybe it’s stopping the judgment. Recognizing that I’m stuck, that I’m overwhelmed, that this is hard for me right now, and that’s okay.

If I can offer compassion to others when they’re struggling, maybe I deserve that same kindness too.