Strange coincidences regarding my column have occurred twice in recent weeks. First, in the same issue that I'd written an article of concern for global warming there was an opposite article pooh-poohing it.

eric@ericnagler.com Then last week, in the same issue where I'd written about dealing with the misunderstandings and negative judgments that result from being transparent, someone wrote to the editor that Eric Nagler hates God (because I think His Old Testament advice to Adam - earth population 2 - to go forth and multiply is not appropriate today - earth population 6 billion).

The words, "Eric Nagler hates God" sent a shock through my body. What a hurtful accusation. Forgetting my article on transparency I immediately fell into a combative reaction. That guy doesn't know what he's talking about; there's no reasonable justification for his conclusion; he's blinded by his religion, etc.

I considered writing an article going back to Genesis to show that God never said His conjunction should last forever. I would pick apart piece by piece the writer's logic and flawed belief, ending with the observation that it always seems to be the Golden Rule Christians who feel free to publicly stab others with the deepest insults.

Then my partner came home and seeing her reminded me of her picture of letting the negative judgment flow through.

So I opened myself to experiencing what that might mean. I took a look at what had just happened to me.

The insult was like a dart aimed at my heart. My defenses were an attempt to diminish and ward off the pain, sending it back where it came from.I saw that staying in a defensive mode prolonged my wallowed in the gunk instead of stepping through it.

But 'putting it out of my mind' wasn't the answer; I'd just be swallowing the hurt.

Instead of turning away, I turned toward the pain, soaking in the negative judgment, feeling everything I could about this person's attitude toward me. I allowed myself to feel as bad as I could feel, inviting it, welcoming it, turning my heart into a guest house for his insult.

And in allowing the vehemence of this rejection to disperse through my body, it dissipated.

Then I went a step further. I

wore the statement myself, putting myself in that person's shoes, repeating over and over, "This-person hates God. That-person hates God. Eric Nagler hates God."

I became overwhelmed with the sadness of it as I identified with the deeply unhappy place from which this thought arises. I felt the fear and pain needed to give rise to these words and my heart went out to the person who accused me. I am grateful for the opportunity he provided to be his mirror.

The process of inviting the judgment to pass through is not without pain.

But the pain cleanses.