“Swift” Judgement
I judged Taylor. Swiftly.
Pardon the pun, but I did.
A couple of weeks ago, I kept seeing all these memes and stories about Taylor Swift’s latest album release “Midnights,” and I thought, What’s all the fuss about? After all, I thought, Taylor Swift is just some talentless pop artist that everyone has glorified to stardom.
But as the stories about Swift kept coming, curiosity got the best of me. So, I pushed the button on “Spotify” and started listening.
My first reaction? Garbage. Just fluffy, “pop-sensational” music that anyone with any good taste in music would agree.
But then… all of a sudden a song caught my ear. Swift’s catchy “Anti-hero” played and I was enticed. Enough that when the song was over, I hit “replay.” Again. And again.
And again! Seriously, though. When I like a song, I can get a little obsessive. I’m perfectly happy to play the same song on a loop for days on end (to the chagrin of my poor kids and husband!).
But I was hooked. And then I got curious again. What about her other songs?
And so I listened. And I listened more. And I listened deeper.
And the more I listened, the more I began to notice creative, poetic lyrics. Gorgeous, layered harmonies. Candid, raw stories.
I began to see Taylor.
I began to see her heart.
I almost didn’t. You see, there’s a few explicit lyrics. She drops the f-bomb a number of times. Even uses the Lord’s name in vain. But below the swears and pretty face I observed a talented and tender heart that has been hurt, loved, confused, hated, and misunderstood.
Misunderstood by me.
My quick judgement of Taylor Swift reminded me about the danger of “swift judgements.” How it’s so easy to dismiss somebody because they’re ugly or pretty, different or dull. How many times have we judged someone because their talk was a little crass? Their appearance was unkempt?
Judgement is lethal. It kills relationship. It smothers safety. And it can cause a great divide within oneself, where outward condemnation turns ironically inward.
Judgement is lethal. It kills relationship. Smothers safety. And it can cause a great divide within oneself, where outward condemnation turns ironically inward.
Growing up, I was petrified of judgement. Because I noticed quick judgements from people in my church. They’d disapprove if someone dyed their hair blue. They’d gossip if a boy got an earring. And I feared: if they’d judge people for something so simple as the colour of their hair or a silly earring, how would they judge the “bigger” things?
And so I became afraid. So afraid that I grew an incredibly large Inner Critic that would judge me for any “bad” thought, impulse or emotion. I developed depression. I acquired anxiety. Worse of all, I developed a fear of God and a fear of His people. The people and the places that should have felt safest, instead felt dangerous.
Isn’t it sad that Church can be a very unsafe place sometimes? That people are afraid to be real? Afraid to mess up? Admit how they truly feel or think?
All because of fear of judgement.
I used to think compassion was the antidote for judgement. But I don’t know if you can have compassion if you don’t first have curiosity.
I used to think compassion was the antidote for judgement. But I don’t know if you can have compassion if you don’t first have curiosity.”
Judgement is easy. But it takes extra effort to be curious and try to understand. You have to wade through pride and be willing to push through knee-jerk reactions or minor discomfort to win the prize at the end: the true person below the surface.
What if someone believes differently than you? Get curious. What if someone behaves differently than you? Get curious. Taylor-Swift curious! Ask questions. Dig deeper.
Listen.
Because you might just find that when you turn your criticalness into curiosity, your curiosity turns into compassion.
