Have you ever noticed how often the word "weird" is used? For whatever reason I've been noticing. It even "starred" the other day in the punchline of one of my favorite comic strips:
Adam @ Home; little 7-year old Katy ends a conversation with her father by declaring that drawing attention to a special father-daughter moment is "weird". "Weird" is such a handy word when we want to express that someone or something is unusual, strange, odd, bizarre. Usually, when I think or say something is weird, I don't want to have anything to do with it.
"Weird" -- a simple, familiar word -- so easy to use without

thinking twice about the judgments we are making when we do use it. "Weird" has a range of impact from an innocuous dismissal to an outright condemnation of something that is not of our liking. It seems to me that our judgments of "weird" are some of the hardest to release. Recently, in a workshop I was giving on
Nonviolent Communication (NVC), one of the participants offered an example. I will call him Joe.
I had asked the participants to do a simple reflection on a judgment they were making. Joe chose to work with his judgment of his next door neighbors who he had determined were "just plain weird". He had even blamed them for a serious incident that could never possibly have been their fault. Using the tool I had given the participants, Joe unpacked his judgment by noting:
1. what his neighbors actually do out of which he judges them
weird
2. his feelings that come up when he thinks about his
neighbors
3. the needs of his that are not being met in his predicament
with his neighbor.
Then he tried to imagine:
1. what his neighbors' feelings might be
2. what needs his neighbors are trying to meet.
Joe generously shared with his colleagues and co-workers what he learned from his reflection. He started by saying it was very difficult for him to "nail" what his neighbors actually do out of which he judges them as weird. He'd come up with some behaviors, but then rejected a lot of them as assumptions he had made and not fact. He found it helpful to own what his feelings and needs are behind his judgment of his neighbors. He felt dislike for his neighbors and a bit unnerved and resentful. Among others, his needs for cooperation and reliability were not being met. Then he said that, to his surprise, he was able to imagine what some of his neighbors' feelings and needs might be and that some probably were the same as his own.
Obviously, Joe gave up thinking about his neighbors as weird.

Right? No! He'd shake his head in dismay thinking about them. "I still think they're weird", he said, "but, I see now that it's me who's got to change, not them." Weird! A simple little word that belies a tight grip on our judgments about others. Joe at least experienced a loosening in that grip. He committed to letting "weird" be a cue to try to replace his judgment with curiosity. He was willing now to at least explore the path to respect and understanding of his neighbors next door. May we all go with courage on that path!