At 72 years old, I can honestly say that if I've heard it said once, I've heard it a thousand times: "People never change!" Somewhere along the line, I quit saying it. But today — is a good day to ask myself, "Why?"

Did I quit saying it because I know it's not true? Or did I quit saying it because I felt at the time that I had changed, so everyone else must be able to change, too? After all, that seems pretty straightforward. What's good for the goose is good for the geese — or something like that.

So, a few nights ago I sat down at my computer to write all about the problems caused by the assumption that people never change. Problems in our relationships because we believe that our judgments and assessments of other people are true, and we treat them accordingly, no matter what they do differently.

I had done some research on first impressions and how they're important because first impressions last! And on our natural bias for remembering negative impressions. So, I started with that. All seemed to be going well until it wasn't.

Something just didn't feel right. So, as I often do, I slept on it. Nothing new on this the next morning. But there was inspiration for Krishnamurti and the Tao which I finished and later published. So, I slept on this one for another night.

This morning, still nothing as I was waking. Looking at my phone to check the weather, I see a notification from YouTube about a video from my favorite spiritual teacher, Adyashanti. It was titled "Dealing with Judgement from Others". It was excellent, as usual. But, still, nothing. Until there was.

A few hours later I was able to sit down to write. As usual, I started with reading out loud what I had so far. I didn't get past the fourth paragraph, and it was clear as a bell.

I realized that none of what I wrote was really pertinent to my question. Rather, it was a surreptitious attempt to avoid engaging my question. And it was almost successful. I fell into an old habit of thought. I had been gathering information to support what I thought would be my answer. No surprise here; my favorite course in high school was debate and speech.

In debate, you prepare to answer the question from either side (Y/N) of the question. You're not looking for the truth. You're looking for facts that can be used in support of your answer, be it yes or no.

This skill and approach isn't wrong or bad. It's well suited for discerning truth from facts when paired with critical thinking skills. And it helped me to learn to take other perspectives. But the question I was inspired to write about isn't really about whether this commonly accepted truism is true or false. The question is, "Why did I quit saying it?"

The answer to this question is not going to be found through research followed by critical thinking. An intelligent approach. But not the appropriate intelligence.

"The ability to observe without evaluating is the highest form of intelligence." Jiddu Krishnamurti

So, I turned in my chair, propped my feet on my bookshelf, and watched my breathing with Attentive-Awareness. When it felt right, I turned around to the keyboard.

The truism appropriate for the question of why I quit saying that people never change is this: "I want them to change."

I won't rationalize this as something I want for their sake. I want it for me. There are still times when some people closest to me assume that I am just the same as I have always been, and that's not in a good way. And I can get defensive. Strangely (or maybe not so strange), I would then behave in the manner they expected from me.

This morning, Adya had pointed out something I had known for some time, and I nodded along. When confronted with judgment from others it helps to remember to accept the truth of the moment, "[that person] is, in this moment, the way that they are" without judgment. Then, we are open to seeing the full truth of the moment and are able to respond from the creative space of Awareness in the most appropriate manner.

For me today, without actually being confronted with these assumptions about me by someone else, but with attentive-awareness reflecting on recent situations in which I felt someone had, a blind spot has been revealed. The desire in me for some of my loved ones to change so that they could see that I had changed. But why this desire?

"Closing my eyes and settling in, I breathe… I see her get angry with me as if I was doing 'that' again when I wasn't. … I feel a knot in my lower abdomen, just below the belly button. … I watch it … no, I sense it and feel into it. Slowly, it's fading away, and I feel a smile on my lips. It almost makes me laugh out loud. I was actually afraid that I had changed. And if I have changed that much, who will I be?

I can't say who or what. But the Truth is, it is Free and it Loves.