Virginia Schmidt

Recently a dear friend of mine told me she’d met an old family friend who I’ve known my whole life — one who I love, admire and respect — and that what the old family friend immediately had to say about me came across as unkind. The cutting comment about me felt flippant and dismissive in the context of this first meeting such that my close friend herself felt disrespected — why would the first thing you say to me about someone be to disregard her humanity? 

What a beautiful moment! 

I mean the moment when my dear friend told me what this old acquaintance said about me. My whole body went into freeze or flight — shame permeated my being — and I was shown where I was still hanging on to old stories that no longer serve me. Stories of being a “bad person,” stories of not being “who other people think I should be,” stories of caring more what others — oftentimes folks who don’t know me deeply, but may consider themselves an authority on my life! — think about me than about the truth I know in my own heart and experience.

I love that this person put me down as soon as she met my dear friend. It gave me a chance to realize, firstly, where what she said was true. Essentially, she said I haven’t kept many of my commitments. And it’s very easy to see how one could consider this true about my life and history! Oh my, so many commitments and promises I have made that in my experience I could not, and therefore chose not to, keep. So there was the sitting with the beautiful humbling truth of accepting what she’d said. Yes, I have indeed broken many of my commitments. Yes, I have left situations I said I would stick out. Yes, I have walked away when people expected me to stay. 

The real medicine, though, was how she showed me how I do not wish to act. For this, to her, I touch my cap, bow deeply and kiss the ground at her feet! Thank you so much, fellow human, for demonstrating to me what hurts the most … mayhaps more, methinks, than when one cannot keep commitments that turn out, as it were, not to be part of God’s plan … What hurts the most: Judging, labeling and demeaning others when we do not know their whole story. 

Here’s the truth: We can’t know anyone else’s whole story. As humans, we simply don’t have a God’s eye view. It’s comically arrogant and utterly delusional to believe we can tell when anything anyone else did is “right” or “wrong.” If we really want to understand why they did what they did, the only way we might come close is to inquire as to what was really going on in the inner and outer life of a person who made a certain decision — who was led a certain way. If we do this, we will very likely find that if we had been faced with those same circumstances — if we had in every way experienced what they were experiencing — who knows? We might have made that same decision. We might have gone the same way. 

From where we were standing before — sure, mighty and self righteous in our judgment, full of facts, proof and examples of how we are right — we had a real case about how someone’s decision was “wrong” and they’re a “bad person” in whatever regard. But when we actually listen to their experience — if we’re humble, brave and open enough to really listen — we almost always find that what we thought we knew wasn’t actually true, or at least certainly wasn’t the whole story. 

I’m glad this lifelong acquaintance was able to show me where I still need to have more compassion for myself and others. I can easily see how she thinks as she does about me, and believes, it seems, me to be below a show of care. I don’t know her whole story, but if I had experienced everything she did, perhaps I would have said the same thing about me that she chose to say to my sweet friend. 

What a gorgeous and striking lesson on how I can best serve others: By not judging them. By  choosing — even if I’m holding on to a harsh judgment I think I’m right about — to humble myself enough to know I don’t know. Imagine if, even with all the seeming mistakes she’d witnessed me make, that old family connection to whom I’ve always looked up had instead chosen to say to my beloved friend — ah, yes, Virginia, she’s done the best she can. 

Is there anything more noble than choosing to see and share the best about another, even when we’ve seen them at their worst? May such grace fill me and form my far-reaching words!