As my eyes open to the darkness of early morning, my thoughts slowly come into light. I am judging the actions of my ex, his grandfather, myself. I am not paying attention to the softness and love of my son laying next to me, I am spinning a story in my mind about all the ways these people should have been or should be.
As the judge rears it's head on myself, I cannot help but admit, maybe I have made mistakes. Maybe my divorce was my fault. Maybe I was just not lovable enough. Uggghhhh, this again.
I can feel the tension in my body, my shoulders being held in, mind resisting these thoughts. I thought I dealt with all of this. I write. I sit with my little book with flowers littering the cover and I write it out. My Yoga book, "The Secret Power of Yoga," is open to the heading "we are all divine." I recall the podcast I listened to on my way home last night --- 'think of everyone else as Buddha, here just so you can discover the Buddha in yourself.'
As I write, I question the judge. I notice that I am responding, not to my heart, not to my feeling, but rather to the behavior of myself or others. Is the behavior really a reflection of intention? No. My face softens.
What is my intention now? I want to love all these people I judge, I want joy and happiness. So why would I choose the thoughts that make me defensive toward myself and others? Why would I choose the thoughts that close my heart? It doesn't matter if I am right. It matters what I intend. Opening. Loving. Softening.