There was a time when I believed peace came from being right.
From identifying flaws quickly. From noticing inconsistencies in others. From calling out what should be better. It felt sharp. Intelligent. Protective.
But over time, I noticed something uncomfortable: the more I judged, the heavier life felt.
Eventually, I adopted a simple assumption that quietly changed everything—that people are doing their best with what they have, where they are. Not because it’s always true, but because it’s useful. And more importantly, because it frees me.
This assumption didn’t make me weaker. It made me calmer. More present. More rooted in reality.
Judgment Is a Mental Tax We Rarely Question
Judgment feels automatic. Someone speaks harshly. Someone disappoints us. Someone doesn’t meet our expectations. The mind jumps in instantly, constructing a story about who they are, why they did it, and what it says about them.
But judgment isn’t neutral. It costs energy.
Every judgment pulls attention away from what’s actually happening and places it into an imagined version of reality—one where we know intentions, motivations, and inner states we cannot possibly see.
This habit creates friction where none is required. It fuels resentment. It keeps the nervous system activated. It turns minor interactions into internal battles.
And the truth is, judgment rarely changes the other person. It only disturbs the one doing the judging.
Assuming the Best Is Not Naivety
There’s a common misunderstanding that assuming people are doing their best means excusing bad behavior or abandoning discernment. It doesn’t.
You can recognize harm without internalizing hostility.
You can set boundaries without assigning villainy.
You can walk away without poisoning your inner world.
Assuming the best is not about letting people off the hook—it’s about refusing to place your peace on their behavior.
It’s a strategic decision: I choose the interpretation that keeps me grounded.
This mindset shifts the question from “Why are they like this?” to “What is required of me right now?”
And that’s where power returns.
The Freedom of Living in “What Is”
Much of our suffering comes from living in the gap between reality and expectation.
We replay conversations that should have gone differently.
We imagine how people ought to behave.
We resent the present moment for not aligning with our internal script.
Assuming people are doing their best collapses that gap.
It doesn’t mean the situation is ideal—it means you stop arguing with reality. You work with what’s in front of you, not what you wish existed.
When you release the need for people to be different, you regain the ability to respond intelligently rather than emotionally.
Compassion as Self-Preservation
This perspective has an unexpected side effect: compassion stops being moral and starts being practical.
When I assume someone is doing their best, I stay out of their internal struggle. I don’t carry their frustration. I don’t personalize their limitations. I don’t escalate conflict unnecessarily.
This doesn’t make me passive. It makes me clear.
Clear enough to speak when needed.
Clear enough to step back when necessary.
Clear enough to move forward without dragging emotional residue behind me.
Compassion, in this sense, is not softness—it’s emotional economy.
What Changes in Daily Life
The shift is subtle but consistent:
- Arguments lose their intensity
- Disappointment becomes information, not injury
- Interactions feel lighter, even when imperfect
You stop rehearsing what you should have said.
You stop building narratives about who’s at fault.
You spend more time observing and less time reacting.
Most importantly, you begin to trust yourself—not because others behave perfectly, but because your inner state no longer depends on them doing so.
A Practice, Not a Belief
This is not a belief system. It’s a practice.
Some days it’s effortless. Other days it feels like discipline. There will be moments where judgment rushes in before awareness can catch it—and that’s okay.
The goal isn’t perfection. It’s noticing sooner.
Noticing when judgment tightens the body.
Noticing when assumptions escalate tension.
Noticing when peace is available, but pride stands in the way.
Each moment of awareness is a return.
Peace Is an Interpretation
At some point, I realized something simple and unsettling: peace is not found—it’s chosen.
It lives in interpretation. In the story we tell ourselves about what’s happening and why.
Assuming people are doing their best doesn’t make the world kinder.
It makes you steadier within it.
And in a world full of noise, outrage, and constant judgment, that steadiness is not weakness.
It’s strength.
TheSpiritualExplorer 