PERSPECTIVE: Try Trust Instead of Judgment

The time between sleep and waking belongs to the animal mind, a receiver of sensory input. Around here, that means things like birdsong, lapping water, cedar and pine. It’s magical but short – a few blissed-out moments. Then reality crashes through, and these days, it brings COVID-19 top of mind. 

So I pull myself from bed, the virus’s heavy consonants draping me like a net. There will be a largely empty office. There will be fuzzy and interrupted Zoom meetings. There will be emails with people I’ve never met, phone calls with people I know only by voice. I can’t see their faces, their eyes, their body language. I trust they have all these things.

As a human, this lack of interaction is painful. As a reporter, it’s killing me that I can’t connect directly with people, particularly when I’m newly on the job here. 

On those few occasions when I do get to interact, I have to think about things I’ve not thought of before as a reporter. I’m a mask wearer, so when I show up for an interview, I’m taking the chance that I won’t assure the person I’m meeting that I can tell their story with fairness, accuracy, intelligence and compassion. It can be as inappropriate and suspicious as wearing a business suit and heels for an interview out on the water with a commercial fisher. 

We habitually judge each other as quick as a glance. I witnessed this myself last Friday when ordering my lunch at the takeout window of a local restaurant. I was wearing a mask, and after ordering, I walked down the ramp and away from the building, and stood at the far edge of the parking lot. There wasn’t a single person nearby. I took my mask off.

Another vehicle pulled into the parking lot. The driver exited her vehicle and walked toward the restaurant. As she walked past me – a good 20 feet or more away – she seemed to look hard at me. I shrugged to myself and continued to wait for my lunch. She ordered and then descended the ramp and stopped opposite me, still a good 20 feet away. 

“I shouldn’t have done that,” she said. Her body language appeared apologetic. 

“What did you do?” I asked. She pointed to her mask and then my face, and I was led to understand she had admonished me – shamed me even. My mask dangled from my wrist, but I didn’t say anything. There was really nothing to say. I had been judged for something she believed I had not done, or should be doing. It was awkward at best.

We don’t live in the fugue state between sleep and waking where input is received without judgment. But we can aspire to nonjudgment as we go about our days. We can try trusting those with whom we’re sharing this time in this place on this planet. 

All to say: I do what I do because I think it’s the right thing to do. I trust others are doing the same – no judgment.