Here comes the judge

The email snuck up on me yesterday. 

An official looking correspondence from our local AAF chapter. The chapter I’m actively involved with as a board member. 

But instead of a note reminding me of our next meeting, it was a very polite but disappointing message informing me that I didn’t win at the ADDYs. Damn. It always hurts when something you create doesn’t get recognized. But this one stung more because my entry was for The Pudding Factory website, the business I’ve spent the last two years building. Not only did I put a ton of effort into this project, like everything I work on, but I literally poured my soul into it, into every word, every pixel. 

Not good enough, apparently. 

Yikes. I’ve always known my style isn’t for everyone. But a nice attaboy (even a bronze!) from the judges would have been cool. 

That said, now what? As part of my ongoing training as a coach, I’m in the midst of a a program that teaches us to deal with the part of our mind that likes to judge everything we do and everything that happens to us. And that judge is telling me I suck right now, that my truest self is not welcome in the business I’ve worked in for over 25 years. It’s also telling me that those people who didn’t like my site are clueless idiots who clearly don’t understand my unique genius. 

It’s wrong on all counts.

So instead of listening to that judge, I’m trying to listen to the part of me that is more curious and optimistic. And that guy wonders what I can learn from this experience. Can I view this “loss” as an opportunity? A chance to grow or improve in some way? 

I’d like to think so. But man it’s hard to think that way when you’ve got this louder, judgier voice calling you a doofus all the time. 

My instinct is to embrace that doofus—it’s pretty on brand for me anyway. After all, I have a company called The Pudding Factory and a website filled with cat pics and testimonial quotes from dead presidents and former world champion basketball players. I really am kind of a doofus. 

So perhaps that’s what I can learn from all of this. To be okay with my doofusiness. To be the best damn doofus I can be, knowing full well that it won’t be everyone’s cup of kombucha. 

They say you should visualize your judge when it’s telling you that you’re a big fat failure. I’ve decided to visualize mine as Judge Reinhold, of Fast Times at Ridgemont High and Beverly Hills Cop fame. Perhaps the ultimate doofus of all time. 

So, the next time he calls me a clueless gooberhead, I can simply say—one doofus to another—“I know you are, but what am I?”

See? I’m growing already. 

#judging #selfcritic #coaching #doofus