Like a Sunset: Meeting Your Thoughts with Non-Judgment

Have you ever noticed how quickly we judge a moment?

A thought arises, and we already want to change it. A feeling appears, and we label it as too much, too heavy, not welcome. We resist, react, tighten - often without even realizing it.

But what if there’s a different way to meet our inner world? One that doesn’t demand fixing, explaining, or justifying. One that simply asks us to stay and witness.

We all have preferences

Of course we do. We’re human.

We’re drawn to some things and not to others.

We gravitate toward warmth, peace, familiarity, and feel resistance to discomfort, uncertainty, or the unknown. This is natural.

And yet, there’s a difference between noticing what feels good and judging what doesn’t.

Judging vs. discerning

Judgment comes with labels: This is wrong. I shouldn’t feel this. That shouldn’t be happening.

It often arrives with a tightness in the chest, a shrinking, a sense of needing to fix something fast.

Discernment feels different. It’s spacious. Curious. Rooted in the body, not in the mind’s fear.

It says: Something feels off, what might this be telling me? or This feels nourishing, maybe I want more of this in my life.

Discernment allows room for choice, without guilt. Judgment traps us in resistance.

What if we simply observed?

This is where non-judgment begins.

It doesn’t ask us to love every moment or feel at peace with every emotion. It asks us to see what’s here, fully and clearly, before reacting to it.

When sadness arises, can we meet it like a wave rather than a wall? When joy visits, can we let it expand without gripping too tightly?

To observe is to soften. To let things breathe before we name them. To listen before we label.

Even judgment is just a thought passing through. You don’t have to believe it, only notice it. Like a cloud drifting across the sky.

To be the guesthouse Rumi speaks of, welcoming every visitor, even the ones we didn’t expect.

“Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows…still, treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight.”— Rumi, The Guest House

And when the swirl of thoughts becomes too much, we can come back to the body. Feel our breath. Notice where our hands are resting. Let our presence be the guesthouse.

Like watching a sunset unfold

When we watch a sunset, we don’t rush it. We don’t say, It should be brighter, or this part is too orange. We simply take it in — the colors, the slow descent, the quiet way the sky changes.

What if we gave our inner world the same grace?

What if every emotion, every moment, was allowed to unfold in its own rhythm, without being pushed away or pulled apart?

We’re not here to fast-forward the sky. We’re here to witness its beauty as it moves... even when it’s cloudy.

An invitation to soften

If you feel called to practice this kind of gentle presence —to observe without fixing, to meet yourself with more spaciousness - I invite you to explore Breathe & Bloom.

Learn more about the course here — a 4-week journey into mindfulness, creative flow, and self-compassion.

And if you're not ready for a course but would love to receive reflections like this,you're always welcome to join my newsletter — a quiet corner of the internet that feels like a deep exhale.

P.S.

What’s one feeling you’ve been judging lately, and how might it feel to simply let it be here, without trying to change it?