Compassion Judgment

• Main Entry: com·pas·sion
• Pronunciation: \kəm-ˈpa-shən\
• Function: noun
• Etymology: Middle English, from Anglo-French or Late Latin; Anglo-French, from Late Latin compassion-, compassio,from compati to sympathize, from Latin com- + pati to bear, suffer — more at patient
• Date: 14th century

: sympathetic consciousness of others' distress together with a desire to alleviate it

synonyms see pity

• Main Entry: judg·ment
• Variant(s): or judge·ment \ˈjəj-mənt\
• Function: noun
• Date: 13th century

1 a : a formal utterance of an authoritative opinion b : an opinion so pronounced 2 a : a formal decision given by a court b (1) : an obligation (as a debt) created by the decree of a court (2) : a certificate evidencing such a decree 3 a capitalized : the final judging of humankind by God b : a divine sentence or decision; specifically : a calamity held to be sent by God 4 a : the process of forming an opinion or evaluation by discerning and comparing b : an opinion or estimate so formed 5 a : the capacity for judging : discernment b : the exercise of this capacity 6 : a proposition stating something believed or asserted

synonyms see sense

Painted faint blue, there is only wall inside my bedroom that isn't brick or consummed up by closet doors (not a complaint) . This wall has become the head board of sorts for my bed and where I've display a collection of "dreamtime" objects. The objects are close to my light switch. So when ever I flip the switch, before I leave the room or fall asleep, they remind me of wonderful and loving things and people in my life. This transformation or realization or affirmation only takes a moment. In the time it takes to flip a switch I have filled my heart, refresh my perspective as if I've just woke from a sleep to the warm sunlight of a new day with all its possibilities.

A few of the objects on my wall of sweetdreams and memories are: a photograph of Brad holding a paper smilie face with Naugha's nosed poking through the center, a drawing from Tara of our magical visit with the Bonsi trees in DC, the first photograph of me as an adult that I actually liked taken by Jackie, a monarch butterfly print from a workshop in Big Sur with the Chicas Guapas, a lovely illustrated thank you card from Deb and my "superpowers surfaced when worn" oil painting of pink girly panties. But the one thing that always catches my eye is a olive colored postnote that reads in my handwriting, "When I hide my compassion behind judgment, I hide my true self".

At the end of the day before my head hits the pillow and my mind wonders off to dream, that paper reminds me that I have a choice and a responsibility for my actions and reactions of each day. And it also reminds me that at the end of each day if I wasn't able to act or respond as well as I wanted, tomorrow is another opportunity, a day of endless possibilities.