There’s a concept that I picked up when attending various Access Consciousness courses over the years, that goes like this:
Consciousness includes everything and judges nothing.
I always thought I had this one under wraps. After all, as I approach my 40s I feel like I’ve already experienced at least a dozen lives this lifetime. Embracing the diversity of life, and many of the stereotypical ‘labels’ that society loves to impose. I like to think that I have included everything that came my way.
I’ve done my time in the clubs having a ball, dancing til dawn and then spending the next few days contemplating the meaning of life, crawled up in foetal position to hide in the corner of the bedroom until that awful all-consuming feeling ceased. Only to do it all over again. That vicious mouse wheel that seems near impossible to get off.
I’ve been dressed to the nines playing and la-de-da-ing around town – the effortless elegance of polo, black tie charity events, camera-flashing launches, luxury yachts and jets.
I’ve hung in the pits at Moto GPs, jumping on the back of race bikes to almost nearly get my knee down at 180km/hr around corners, and heading out on weekend rides with rough and tough guys who look like they’ve seen and lived a thing or two.
I’ve gone through rehab, meeting every counselor, psychologist, psychiatrist, and hypnotherapist I could see, thinking that surely there must be something wrong with me. Attending AA meetings and sharing heartfelt stories with people from all walks of life. From high flyers to homeless.
I used to work in bars, and share my occasional ‘knock off’ drink with a gentleman who I thought was a hit man, but later learnt was a drug trafficker. Now in jail. A polite man who spoke nicely about his mother. Why at the time did I think it ‘better’ when I presumed the former?
I’ve lived in Vegas with an ex black ops professional, or at least that’s what I think the ‘label’ is called. Sleeping with 3 loaded guns in the house, one in the bedside drawer, one in the dressing room, one at the front door, and a tazer by my bed, just in case. With a dog at the foot of my bed, oh so beautiful and loyal, yet oh so capable of tearing anyone to shreds who dare cross the line.
I’ve lived in Milan, spending my days with a group of people who took me in to their lives as if I was one of theirs. Visiting the hospital with my new friends, a group of monks. Sitting in on meeting with the Italian government. Getting my photo taken for the front cover of a local magazine. No way of communicating except through the eyes. So desperately wanting to hear what one wise man had to say to me, but somehow knowing what it was, as the eyes tell all.
Finding my peace at Vipassana meditation retreats, and jumping down that rabbit hole of silence, contemplation and letting go all the cravings and aversions.
Jumping on the esoteric train to sing angel names, cleanse my aura and discover what my soul’s mission and purpose is all about.
I’ve traveled the world to get a glimpse of the cultures, hearts, and minds, everywhere from Iceland to France, Russia to Japan, Italy to USA, Gibraltar to China, Korea to Egypt, Sweden to Slovenia, Taiwan to Mexico, Indonesia to Switzerland, Croatia to New Zealand, Turkey to Spain, Morocco to Greece, and many more in between. Backpacking in $30 rooms, through to Presidential Suites in the cities finest hotels. Stashing bread rolls from the breakfast buffet in my purse for lunch, through to vintage Krug and caviar.
I’ve dated the most kind and considerate sweethearts who taught me so much. I’ve dated abusive men who crushed me with their words and actions. But, I’m not the victim. I chose it. And for a long time I wondered why. To prove to myself that I was strong enough to pick myself off the ground and soldier on?
These ‘stories’ may bring up a lot or nothing at all within you. You may call me naïve. You may call me unaware. You may call me many things. Does it really matter?
We all have lives that are full of stories just like mine. Or perhaps a little different. Maybe more interesting. Maybe less. I guess it all depends from whose eyes you’re looking from.
But before you judge what’s ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, or ‘good’ and ‘bad’, please stop to take a moment to ponder the following. We love to place labels on people, and with those labels come a stack of judgments. Who are we to judge people by the stereotypical labels that we perceive they fit in to? What if we stopped judging others? Irrespective of whether those judgments are ‘good’ or ‘bad’. Isn’t it about time we let go of the labels that define and confine us?
We create our own heaven. Or we create our own hell. It’s entirely in our hands.
I have an unquenchable curiosity, and love the multi-faceted realities that exist here on earth. We can be anything, do anything and slip in to any reality we choose. It’s all a matter of choice.
From my experience, it’s when we let go the judgments that we start living.
So just as I think I have lived, and feel abundantly over-the-moon happy with my recent choices for relationship, life and living. Marrying my best friend and lover. Living in one of the most breathtaking parts of the world where the countryside meets the sea. Creating a business where I am honored to be able to inspire and be inspired by the beautiful people that walk this earth. I discover that I am only just beginning. Whilst I love the aspect of myself that has no interest or desire to judge others, and have even gone so far in the past as to think myself superior for not placing judgment on other people’s stereotypes … I am my worst critic. I realise that the real joy of living begins when I stop judging myself.
WHY DO WE JUDGE OURSELVES?
Why do we torture ourselves, by judging our appearance, our actions and our choices? Perhaps we judge ourselves so that we get in first before anyone else can? It kinda lightens the blow. Perhaps we judge ourselves because we’ve been told ‘lies’ about ourselves far too many times. Or was there one lie that stuck? You’re too fat. You’re too skinny. You’re a failure. You’re not capable of X, Y or Z. You’re useless at A, B or C. Or, I wish I looked like her. Or him. Perhaps we try to fit in to other people’s expectations of what we think they expect of us, all the while judging ourselves for not being ‘good enough’, ‘smart enough’, ‘pretty enough’ or simply ‘enough’.
If we truly desire to be conscious, the first step is to let go of judgements. And as with most things in life, it all starts with ourself.
love & hugs
Sam Sargent, founder of Be genki