Change Your Mind, Part 2

When Husband and I were getting acquainted ten years ago, we were constantly testing each other. With me in my late 30's and him in his early 40's, we both had amassed a few scars and observations from our lives that made us watchful and cautious about whether this new interest was going to be a match.

Our e-mail correspondence (we'd been set up by a mutual friend) was surprisingly frank. In fact, I soon was teasing him in my e-mails about mythical characters "Frank and Earnest" who symbolized my openness as I told him stories of my life, talked about my work, and dished out opinions about people, us, and anything I felt like expounding on.

I re-read through several months of our e-mail correspondence this morning looking for this conversation, and didn't find it, but this is how I remember it:

At one point I told Husband about either an interaction or a situation with someone that wasn't favorable. Later something happened during which I learned more, and I gave an altered--and significantly more positive--assessment of the person involved.

Although the situation is now fuzzy, I remember his reaction quite clearly. It was delight! I was rather startled when he expressed such pleasure over the fact that I was capable of changing my mind about someone after having clearly stated a different perception earlier.

Hmmmm, I thought. This guy thinks it's an admirable quality that I can change my mind! I'd never thought of it that way before, but having had it brought to my attention, I could see that a willingness to change one's mind about another person could bring some rewards in life.

Changing one's mind can be disappointing, though. Or it can feel like you're flip-flopping. Of course, people who don't have "judging" minds don't have to ride this roller coaster. They just experience other people in the present and don't build opinions or grudges or expectations. I, however, was not so blessed as to be born that way. And so I ride the waves as I change my opinion, try to beat off the grudges, and survive my disappointed expectations.

I remember pointing out a couple on the church platform to Husband during our first year of marriage. "They seem really nice," I whispered, admiringly. "They seem like they'd be good people to be around, fun friends."

He looked at me skeptically. "How do you know?" he asked.

"Intuition," I whispered back, archly. "Good vibes."

"Is your intuition always right?" I hate it when he asks questions like that.

"Uh. Usually." I recognized that I might be setting myself up if I got categorical on this one.

Time passed. I got to observe first-hand the dynamics of the two people I'd noticed, as well as hearing stories from others about them (which is not hard to do in a small, close-knit community). The more I saw, the less impressed I was, and then the angrier I became. They were self-aggrandizing. They were disrespectful to people of a different stripe. They were narcissistic. They had no willingness to step out in faith. They were critical. They were quick to make comments that would give their peers a bad reputation. They were supremely frustrating, each in their own individual way. They had a way of adding one mangled, discolored pearl to another on their necklace of offensive interactions. I remembered my initial rosy-tinted assessment and cringed. I had most certainly changed my mind.

And that's where I sat until recently. I happened across new information yet again, a perspective that put a whole new twist on my perceptions. Funny how that happens. When you learn of some of the private challenges that people face, when you understand the dysfunctions of generations to be overcome, and when you are willing to give credit where credit is due for how well they are managing, how can you not rewrap your mind in a different way around a newly-formed perception that makes a solid case for replacing the old one?

Having said that, not everyone is willing to allow their mind to be changed, and that rigidity can cut both ways.

[to be continued]