If I don’t want others to judge me . . .

“I’M ashamed of myself,” she whispered into the phone.

“Oh hi Mom, good to hear your voice,” I responded. My mother has a tendency to begin our phone calls in the middle of a conversation she started before dialing my number.

“I played bridge today,” she continued, “and was stuck with a real dud for a partner. Dumb-as-a-door-nail Debbie — absolutely no personality.”

Let it be known: My mother has a tendency to judge people by outward appearances and first impressions.

True, we all make assessments of others based on how they look, dress, talk, even eat, but her tendency to assess others — quickly — has always been a problem for me.

“So what happened, Mom?” I asked, knowing that whatever it was, it was bound to be a good topic for dinner conversation with my husband.

“We played bridge and just like I thought — she was terrible. Didn’t concentrate on the game, kept looking around the room as if she couldn’t wait to go home.

“I kept reminding her that it was her turn.

“But after the game, a woman at the next table came up to her and asked how she was doing. She answered so quietly I could barely hear.”

“Not so good,” Debbie whispered.

“I’m waiting to hear from the doctor — about my kidneys. They aren’t working right and I may need dialysis.”

My mom was shocked.

It had never occurred to her that her “dud of a partner” might have been preoccupied with such a frightening thought. And she was ashamed —of herself and how quickly she had misjudged the situation and Debbie herself.

Mom got up and went over to Debbie and put her hand on her shoulder.

“I’m going to think of you all weekend and hope that you get good news,” she said.

Debbie thanked her and then, began to cry. It was the end of a misjudgment and the beginning of a friendship.

On Monday, Mom called Debbie and learned that she wouldn’t need dialysis after all. Mom hung up, but not before telling her that she looked forward to seeing her again soon. And she meant it.

IT’S so easy, so very human, to judge another person, whether it’s a friend, family member or someone we barely know.

The critical judge that lives within each of us creates a story, often not based in fact but in our own sense of reality. That story greatly influences how we relate to the person and becomes the lens through which we view him or her.

Dumb Debbie.

Arrogant Alice.

Pretentious Peter.

Our assessments are like sound bites; mini-definitions that categorize others but limit our ability to be in an authentic relationship with them.

These unfair assessments and judgments interfere with our ability to know and appreciate the real person who is sitting across the table from us, whether in a classroom, boardroom or dining room.

Once we conclude that a friend spends too much money on things we don’t value or that a co-worker is after our job, all of the conversations and interactions we have with him or her will tend to validate our assessment.

If my mother had not learned about Debbie’s impending news about her kidneys, she would still think of her as dumb Debbie the next week at bridge and most likely find her conversations boring or dull.

We spend more time checking out and verifying the characteristics of a new car or kitchen appliance than we do the qualities of another human being.

So how can we stop ourselves from jumping into judgments? How can stay open to others without limiting who they are in our minds?

The Torah commands us, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” This is explained in the Ethics of the Fathers as a commandment of restraint: “What is hateful to you, do not do to others.”

In essence, the Golden Rule in Judaism commands us to refrain from doing to others what we don’t want them to do to us.

Applying this rule to our tendency to judge others makes perfect sense. If I don’t want others to make unfair judgments about me, then I must avoid doing that myself.

If I don’t want my friends to judge me based on who I was five or even two years ago, then I have to be open to who they are and how they might have changed over time. To act otherwise is to deny a fundamental truth about human nature: we are continually growing, changing and, for many of us, striving to become the person we want to be.

I found another answer to this problem in yoga class when my teacher asked us to let go of all judgments for the hour we were on the mat.

For just one hour we were to suspend our critical judge. We were to relinquish all judgments of how badly we thought we looked in eagle posture or how wobbly we felt in standing tree pose.

We also were told not to judge others whom we thought were doing “better” or “worse” than we.

Seemed like a simple request until I tried it. Ten minutes into class, I realized just how very hard it is.

We can quiet our judging mind only if we stay aware of our tendency to do it and then make an effort to stop.

Sometimes we will succeed. When we do, we may find that our assessments are really barriers to intimacy; obstacles to true friendship and understanding.

That is why the sagely words written by Rabbi Hillel over 2,000 years ago still hold true today: “Do not judge another person until you have reached his place.”

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