Judgment Is Belief Used as a Weapon

Driving down the freeway, I saw an old van spewing exhaust fumes in a cloud behind it.  My immediate thought was, What a jerk!  (Actually, it was something a bit harsher than "jerk," but that will do.)  Then, I responded back to myself, Why is the driver a jerk exactly?  I drive a hybrid that leaves a much lighter carbon footprint than many vehicles, and although I am pleased by the sense of environmental responsibility, my primary motivation is that I get incredible gas mileage and spend less money on fuel.  I use canvas bags when I go grocery shopping, essentially because it is a very easy habit that I perceive as having a significant effect on the amount of non-biodegradable waste I create without inconveniencing me in the least.  We recycle, which doesn't cost us any more than having our garbage collected and is as easy as throwing something in a different receptacle.  Very low impact on our habits, for a perceived higher impact on the environment, whether or not it actually makes a significant difference in the grand scheme of things.

A depiction of beliefs turned into judgments?

So, when I see this van fogging up the road with exhaust, I label the driver a jerk because he seems unwilling to do his part.  I'm doing my part, so he should at the very least be courteous and conscientious enough not to smog up the road in his wake.  This unknown person became, in my mind, ungrateful, irresponsible, insensitive, unintelligent, and oblivious.  But wait.  What if the driver really is oblivious?  How much of a jerk can a truly oblivious person be?  And while I don't necessarily enjoy the smell, how much confidence do I really have about the actual impact of this vehicle's exhaust?  Aside from my indignation, I don't have a wealth of empirical facts to go on.

On that same trip, I was flipping through radio stations, and I happened to land for a moment on an individual making an outlandish claim based more on a personal victimization theory than on factual evidence.  At the time I didn't associate my own judgment against the van driver with the radio personality's tirade.  Rather, I thought, Why don't people use their brains?  And the dialogue in my own head continued, Maybe they do.

Everyone doesn't see the same things I do, and when they do, they don't always draw the same conclusions I do.  It doesn't have anything to do with right or wrong.  We all come from different circumstances and experiences with different sets of information and beliefs, and so we can't all look through identical lenses.  Although I can't be certain (since I'm not in other people's heads), it's as likely as not that other people do indeed use their brains to their fullest capacity, draw the best conclusions that they can, and choose the courses of action they deem best.  Or some people may simply be oblivious.  How would they even know if they are?  How harshly do I really want to judge someone who literally doesn't know any better?

At the end of the day, I am responsible for my decisions, and I want those decisions to make sense with my knowledge and beliefs.  I can't know what's going on in other people's minds, so it ultimately doesn't make sense for me to assume malice where there may be ignorance or even a thoughtful approach that simply differs from mine.  My conflict with thinking that each person is only responsible for his own life is that I believe that we are interconnected, that we have an impact on and are impacted by other people.  I don't believe that anyone exists in a vacuum.  Our actions (and inaction) have an effect in the world.  That belief provides a framework for my own choices, and it's easy to form an expectation of how that belief can play out with other people who have the same sense of connection.  But how does that work in a messy world of people who are unaware or who have deep conviction about an entirely different interpretation?

The best conclusion I can draw is that my sense of connection with other people does not rely upon their sense of connection to me or anything else.  To judge other people based on my impression of how they should act assumes that everyone should see what I see, know what I know, and draw the same conclusions I draw.  I don't actually think anyone can know how things ought to be, so I don't really want to put myself in that place of perceived omniscience.  All I can do is live out my beliefs to the best of my ability, and accept that there is a world of people who see things from different perspectives.  None of us are completely right, but none of us are completely wrong either.

A Real Job

When I was on the threshold of adulthood (on which I sometimes feel like I'm yet lingering), my stepfather asked one evening, "When are you going to stop this music crap and get a real job?"  Or something to that effect.  My mind may not accurately recall his exact words, but I do remember him suggesting that I could be a dishwasher for a local restaurant if that's what it took.  Although at the time my reaction was fueled by teenage rebelliousness, there are still moments when I struggle with that question.  I have nothing against dishwashers, but after earning a doctorate degree, teaching at colleges, and directing a multi-disciplinary, inter-generational arts program, expecting to thrive on creating music sometimes seems like cheating somehow.

My stepfather's question made perfect sense to him at the time.  He chose a profession that reflects his strong work ethic, the kind of blue-collar career in which you know that you've been working at the end of the day.  He respects people that stand on their own two feet, people who are responsible for themselves.  A music career equated with a pipe dream of fame and fortune, slightly more respectable than winning the lottery, but less likely to happen.  Especially in the small town where we lived.  It has its own share of culture, but it simply lacks the critical mass of population to attract much attention.  No wonder he would suggest a more realistic course than being a musician.

Even then, I didn't see a music career quite the same way as he.  I simply wanted to get paid for creating music, in whatever forms that would take.  It wasn't as though I wanted to be handed something for nothing, I just wanted to make money doing what I loved to do.  Recently, I have made decisions as if I needed to earn money somehow so I could indulge in creating music.  I could see music as a luxurious destination, but not the path.  Somewhere along the way, I became unconvinced of the feasibility of just creating music and getting paid enough as a result.  Even though that had been the reality previously in my life.  Bizarre.

Relocation was an opportunity for me to hit the reset button on a few things, though.  I decided to identify myself (to myself and to others) first and foremost as a pianist and composer, and to trust that to be enough.  I don't need to add anything or take anything away from that.  It is an act of faith, and it is an act of authenticity.  At the same time, it is based in reality.  There are certainly people of my skill level and less who are doing just fine in music careers.  Perhaps partly because they believe it's possible to do so, at least most days.


Now I believe that it really boils down to authenticity.  I don't quite believe in "Do what you love and the money will follow."  I do, however, believe in "Do what you love and the satisfaction of doing what you love will follow."  I think that when people are doing something that has personal value, they will do it well enough to be satisfied.  Different people are satisfied by different levels of success, of course.  My stepfather is satisfied, at least in part, by doing something at which he excels, with the confidence that his effort is worth his compensation.  As it turns out, we have that in common.

Warum?

At a solo trombone recital I recently attended, a particularly convoluted piece (composed by my mentor, Art Gottschalk) was half musicianship and half performance art. It ended with the trombonist asking aloud, Warum? Several days later, that moment is still simmering in my head. Why?

Children are famous for asking the question incessantly, but almost everyone I know is intrigued by this question on some level: Why don't I have any money? Why did I get a promotion? Why is that person famous? Why are those people wealthy? Why did my grandmother die? Why can't I be in a functional relationship? Why did I get sick? Why did they make that decision? Why did that movie get made? Why is gas so expensive? And on and on.

In my life, I have been asking a lot of why questions, too. Why does composing matter to me? Why is it important to me that other people hear what I create? Why do I want to teach? Why do I want to live where I am? I want to know the reasons underneath my decisions and my actions, primarily so I can ensure that what I'm doing is based on something that matters rather than on my fear of what might happen.

The problem is that sometimes people will accept any explanation as an answer. Why don't you have any money? Because you haven't taken the right courses. Or because you work in the wrong industry. Or because you spend it unwisely. Or any other number of reasons. And there are enough answers that one can ignore the unappealing possibilities and focus on the more palatable ones. And justifying which explanations I accept (and act on) has been one way I've kept myself from truly creating what I want.

The truth is that sometimes we don't get to know why. Sometimes people get sick, and it doesn't have anything to do with their behavior or God being angry at them. Some people become famous or wealthy, and it might have more to do with their persistence than anything scandalous or worthy of criticism. Of course, it might seem more satisfying to come up with a convincing explanation that taps into our judgments and beliefs.

I could spend so much time researching or inventing feasible reasons why things are the way they are that I risk forgetting the most important thing: I can create what I want in my life. It requires knowing what I want, and it helps if I have a strong purpose. But there isn't a secret formula out there that is going to create it for me, and there isn't a proper way to do things that I need to learn. I'm not missing anything I need. It's just a matter of living out what I want to be. Why? Because I am who I am. No more and no less.

Divergent Spiritual Paths

Some time ago, I wrote that my spiritual beliefs were different from the church where I was employed, and I took a stand to encourage spiritual growth in others, even if their beliefs are different from mine. I valued their experience of spirituality and I am willing to accept that others can have different views without my own being threatened. I don't have it that one must be right and another wrong in this regard.

At the time, I was somewhat vague about what those spiritual differences were. On a certain level, the specifics didn't matter as much as finding a way to support growth in others without sharing their beliefs. As I focus more on writing music and accompanying other skilled musicians, I am recognizing how great an impact basic spiritual beliefs have on everything a person does. I see the divergent paths leading to very different places in the lives of individuals and organizations, even those organizations that do not have a direct spiritual focus.

Some spiritual belief systems hold as a basic premise that human beings are broken, inherently evil, and incapable of doing any good on their own. Often this premise is accompanied by a corollary that everything good is God's doing, and that when human beings surrender to the divine will, God can work through them in spite of their basic nature. I see the potential for this to contribute to a sense of humility and a willingness for self-examination, but I see other results play out as well. Even with the acknowledgment that human beings are precious, when something we don't like happens, the belief that people are broken often wins out.

Ultimately, I see the belief that people are basically broken developing into disconnection from self and others. If people are broken, then our suspicions, doubts, and judgments of others are well justified. We have no underlying reason for respect of others or ourselves. When we disagree with another person's point of view, it can be attributed to their brokenness; and when we agree, we can attribute that to a mutual connection to the divine.

And if we believe that people are basically broken, we can easily rob ourselves of opportunities to create and achieve. I believe much of our anger and hatred toward others is just a manifestation of fear, quite likely fear that we ourselves are broken individuals. In fact, we can give ourselves permission to behave like broken people. Broken people seek to destroy rather than build up, they embrace revenge rather than grace, and they find reasons for separation rather than connection.

My own strong belief is that people are inherently capable. I believe that an individual may have unique strengths and weaknesses, but there is an underlying capability in every person. This personal belief impacts how I see others, how I engage them, how meaningful my connection with them can be. And meaningful connection with other people creates possibilities beyond one person's capability. When I acknowledge my own inherent capability, it means that I can establish a meaningful purpose and work toward accomplishing things that are in line with that purpose. Simply being human imbues people with value.

Capable people can still get off course from time to time, and it is important for growth that we benefit from one another's eyes. When we see people as capable rather than broken, the support we give and receive can come from a position of compassion, grace, and connection. And believing in other people's capability encourages full participation in the world we are creating.

Recognizing that either of these perspectives is possible in a wide range of faith traditions and spiritual systems, I am reminded of the old proverb about the dog you feed being the one that wins. How we treat one another is the most convincing manifestation of any spiritual belief, and my goal is that my noblest beliefs about others and myself will be supported by overwhelming evidence in my life.

Compassion

Most of the music I write has a message to communicate. Sometimes it's just a guiding principle as I am composing that winds up as a sentence in the program notes. Other times the message of a piece is integral to the audience's experience. Almost always, it is about awareness. I believe that people's lives would be enriched and more connected if they practiced more intentional awareness. My music is clearly influenced by that belief.

Some things we do work against our awareness, however, and I've been thinking about this as various people have been commenting on the national budget. We often respond to governmental programs from a position of compassion. If we want people to have health care, homes, the basic necessities of life, we are comforted by government-funded programs that tend to these needs. If we want businesses to be successful, for people to have jobs, for retirement plans to be adequate, we take comfort in government-funded assistance for corporations and businesses.

We are a compassionate people in theory, and when we see suffering on any level, we want someone to take care of it. Someone. Not us directly, but somebody ought to do something, right? Sure, it's OK if our taxes are used for it, as long as we can be comforted by knowing that it's been addressed. Then we can ignore it and go on with our lives. Or, if we choose, we can get angry about it without being burdened with responsibility.

I wonder if it is the government's job to be compassionate for us. What would we do as individuals if the government stopped all of these compassion-driven efforts? Would we rise to the challenge and become compassionate people in action? I suppose we could keep getting angry that no one was doing anything. Or we could still ignore the problems and pretend that we have no responsibility toward one another. What builds a stronger society, a compassionate government or a compassionate people?