An Experiment Along the Hudson River

By Jan Crawford

The freedom and safety of many of us – all of us, if you consider the right to an inhabitable Earth – are under unprecedented threat, and we need to be as brave and vigilant as we can be. So, given these dangers it may be difficult to imagine that it might also be a good time to discover surprising new resources of freedom and unity.

What I describe today may sound, let’s say, sappy. So, in case you are wondering, I am not Little Mary Sunshine. I can be downright misanthropic at moments. The practice I will be suggesting was a bit awkward for me in the beginning. It developed after a period of becoming painfully aware of my habitual unconscious judgments of people despite decades of inner work.

I have a lot of company in the reflexive disapproval of others or what scientists call “negativity bias.” I remember a meditation teacher saying he had asked his students as they did an outdoor, silent walking meditation to raise their hands every time they noticed themselves making a judgment. When he looked out the window, he saw a field full of students raising their hands every minute.

How might we release ourselves from our propensity to judge? Jean Smith, a friend and Buddhist scholar, recently said something that clarified the freedom from judgement glimmerings I have in my meditations. She spoke of an American monk and translator, Bhikkhu Bodhi. He suggested the word in Pali that is usually considered to mean “enlightenment” could instead be translated as “unbinding.” I found that word to be more descriptive of those glimpses – creating a sense of increasing physical and mental freedom from identities, defenses, and culturally accepted and imposed concepts. “Unbinding” better describes a greater lightness, as if you are slowly emerging from the iron cocoon. This cocoon was created by the delusion that each of us is a separate self whose job it is to defend, at any cost, what it thinks it is or should be. Thich Nhat Hanh has described that deeper reality when he said we “inter-are:” that we exist in relation to everything else both living and not-living.

The defenses that fuel our judgements of the dangerous “other” are based on early human instincts to fight, flee, freeze or affiliate. These instincts developed from real physical vulnerability, conditioning and unresolved epigenetic and personal traumas. But just because something is instinctual, doesn’t mean it’s inevitable or desirable in today’s world. Reacting instinctually is exactly what we need to recognize and evolve beyond so that we can realize what we human beings are, at heart, and what we can become.

Toward that end I recently developed an experiment with one way we might get closer to that potential.

Sitting in my walker on the Hudson River, I enjoy watching those strolling or running along the river’s path. A few months ago I decided to experiment with gently reminding myself that I had absolutely no idea who each person was or what their life had been or was like. I also reminded myself how much we humans are alike. Then, looking briefly at each person passing by, I simply said to myself, “I love you.”

And surprise, it turns out there is so much more pleasure in saying these words than in unconsciously dismissing so many of my fellow humans. Even that first day of experimenting while silently saying “I love you” to passersby, I noticed that I left feeling friendlier. I noticed I was effortlessly kinder toward others and even myself. It felt as if a few layers of defensiveness had been peeled closer to the core, to my true nature.

And since then an unexpectedly sweet side effect has occurred on three different occasions. Waiting for a bus, a young person walked by, turned around and came back to me and said the exact same thing: “You look gorgeous.” I assure you I have not had a facelift recently, so it is much more likely these young people’s kind responses speak to what a little more openness and happiness can communicate and invite.

If you explore this practice you don’t try to make yourself feel love. Just say the words to yourself. By interrupting the negative judgments automatically, over time they create a tender alchemy of their own. Also, I was interested to see toward whom I might feel the most reluctance to include. And I was grateful to see that there were very few people in that category. With time, however, even that resistance began to slowly dissolve on its own.

Saying to yourself “I love you” may feel natural to you. Or you might find yourself angry or sad – or decide it was a bizarre idea. But whatever your experience, pleasant or unpleasant, you may discover some important information to work with. You might also view the “I love you” practice – or your version of it – as another way to take an action against the forces that are trying so ruthlessly to separate us. If saying “I love you” feels too vulnerable, don’t worry. The words may come that feel right for you. And no one needs to ever know you are doing it. This stealth experiment with an expansive form of love and acceptance can be our little secret. And I promise not to tell a soul.