Lojong slogan 25 says, “Don’t talk about injured limbs.” It’s a short-hand way of reminding us to speak kindly of others. It also reminds us that usually, when someone is doing something worth commenting on, their actions (or our criticism of them) are coming from a hurt place. And everyone, all the time, has hurt places. We don’t often live our best from them.
Last week, I took a little break from Twitter, something I’ve never done before. I don’t follow a ton of people, and I keep my list pretty tidy, so I tend to avoid a lot of the drama. But for whatever reason, the last couple of weeks felt particularly judgmental and unkind to me. So many people were being so incredibly harsh to one another, especially when someone was changing their mind, growing, moving in a better direction. For Twitter, whatever the decision, it wasn’t good enough. And it left a lot of room for criticism. This infuriated me. I felt myself getting so worked up so I took a long walk. I asked, “What’s going on here for me?!”
What became clear is that this kind of behavior hit one of my soul truths: you don’t criticize someone when they are in a season of spiritual growth. To me, that’s simply off-limits. It’s not the time to push them for more (if they could do more, they’d be there already). And it’s not the time to discourage whatever positive forward movement is happening within. Celebrate, encourage, and most of all, be patient. Because we can all remember a time when we did not have it all figured out. And who among us isn’t grateful for those who showed us patience and grace?
Of course, the break from Twitter helped me recalibrate and clarify. But it also required me to look in the mirror: where do I talk of injured limbs? And friends, truth be told, it’s more often than I should. For me, this lojong slogan arrives at the perfect time. It reminds us to do no harm, as much as possible, at all times.
Traleg Kyabgon writes, “Picking on someone’s faults won’t make them a better person; it only exposes our own deficiencies and causes problems for everyone. Our intention should always be to help people rather than cause injury.” We can use that as a filter: does this comment help the person? (Try not to create loopholes about how listening to your advice helps the person you have in mind!)
When we comment about someone else negatively, we often do so from a place of arrogance and aggression. It’s prideful, and it’s violent. And despite how we might feel about it, it doesn’t help them get where we think they need to go. It sure doesn’t help us get to a more compassionate place of living.
Norman Fischer suggests spending a week writing down every time we say something negative about someone else. Which sounds like a terrifying activity! This week, I think I’ll try doing just that in the hopes that I don’t betray my own soul’s code. Because really, we’re all in seasons of growth, all the time. Want to join me?
