Orlog, Judgment and Discrimination

I like to say that I am non-judgmental, but that isn't exactly true. I was recently told that it feels like I am judging every word that people say. And that is accurate, but misleading.

I am an air sign, very solidly so. As such, one of the things I do is analyze everything. So, yes, every word people say, every action that they do... all of it goes through my metrics, my algorithm of behavior.

And, yes, I very much judge people on that, but perhaps not the way you'd think. Good/bad judgments are reserved for extremes and overall assessments, if at all, and those are pretty liberal in nature. I will determine things like the person's self-identity, sexual orientation, gender identity, hobbies, likes and dislikes, etc.

Each one of those things puts that person into a category based on that. Not categories for how much I value them as a person, but categories to determine if they would like certain topics of discussion, potential hot-button issues, and how I should address them (particularly important in the case of self- and gender identities).

But while those things change how I interact with that person, none of them change how I value that person AS a person.

There are some topics that either directly or indirectly do change my valuation of the person. Sex (not identity or orientation) is one. A person likes sex - good for them. A person cheats on their partner - red flags. A person has lots or little money - no good/bad assessment at all. A person steals money or things, or cheats on their taxes, etc. - evaluation time. A person doesn't want kids - valid choice. A person has kids and refuses to take emotional, physical or financial responsibility for them - mayor of schmuck-ville.

In case you didn't see the pattern, here it is in a nutshell. People can make their own choices about their lives and how they live it. It may not be the choice I have made/would make, but it is theirs to make. It may change the way I talk to them about certain topics, but that's more situational awareness then judgment.

However, if the person ACTS in a way that can or could hurt or harm others, judgment is made. Plain and simple. And the judgment itself is simple, too. This person will hurt others. If they will hurt others, they have lost value or respect in my eyes. They are not as good of a person now.

Ok, so what does this have to do with Orlog?

Well, Orlog is a person's reputation. It comes from their own behavior and, to a lesser extent, their words. It can come from what people say about them, though that has less impact than direct experience. It can also come from the actions of their friends and family. A person you know nothing else about can, and will, be judged by "that's Robert's boy" or "he hangs with Joe the Stoner". You can overcome the Orlog of friends and family pretty easily, but it is still there.

So every time someone interacts with me, their Orlog is subtly adjusting, moving along one or more axis as the information comes in.

Do I judge people? Of course, I do. I can tell you which of my friends I will lend money to, and which have lost that privilege. I can tell you who in my blood family will get more than a bare acknowledgment, and who is only family because of the blood ties to myself and others. We all judge people. It's how we know who we can trust and with what.

That is your Orlog and your Honor. Don't taint it.

The Big Reveal: How I Became a Hoarder and Didn't Know It

This is a re-creation of our back room.

I moved this last month. That means we literally emptied our entire house of its stuff, from every nook and cranny.

And it was horrible.

We apparently believed that we will starve to death. Also, I was convinced I am a secret seamstress, and hubby thought carpentry and woodwork are his life's path. We also believed at one point we were really gardeners.

Hint: We are not.

Let's back up a bit, and give a little history on my hubby and I. Both of us grew up in households that were doing okay financially. Not great, but okay. When we left said houses, both of us had several experiences, to varying degrees, of financial distress.

In fact, we both are currently learning to adjust to a financial life that is not paycheck to paycheck. It isn't easy. Being poor, or even just above the poverty line, lends itself to certain lifestyle choices and habits that are extremely hard to break. (You can see some of this here, here, here, and here.)

One of the more insidious habits is that you become a hoarder, whether you want to be or not. It's not an accident. It's not even a compulsion, like in the TV shows. It's a mindset, and a choice, though it isn't always clear that you are choosing to hoard, per se.

When you have just enough extra, you stash it for when you won't have it, and for those living on the edge of poverty, that can be just around the corner. BTW, the best way to stash food is to take up prepping. Yeah, I mean doomsday survivalist stuff, like canning, buy
ing in bulk, etc. You want to know how to get enough food for who knows what and who knows how long, join a prepper chat group.

When you have to check the bank account to go get a fuse that blew in your home because the wiring is messed up, then you realize you can get the two-pack for only 50 cents more, that's what you do. Cuz you will need that other fuse when it blows again. So you stash the extra fuse. If you are lucky, the fuse doesn't blow for a few months, and by that time, you've forgotten where (or that) you stashed the extra fuse and you go buy another two-pack.

Light bulbs, tooth paste, mouthwash, the list goes on. I just dumped a triple handful of packets of glasses wipes that had dried out two years ago, which was at least a year after my mom gave them to us for free. But we didn't get rid of them cuz they had a use, a purpose.

And, worse, because they were in our possession, if we didn't use them, they would be nothing more than trash in the dump - a violation of our core, Pagan-y beliefs. At least if we used them, they would be somehow justified. We were too poor to turn our noses up at free stuff, but we literally couldn't use or store all the stuff we got, and throwing them away was practically against our religion.

"They keep bringing more stuff!! Make it stop!"

We dumped off probably 50 large trash bags full of stuff, plus some "loose" furniture, at the local thrift store. We filled a city dumpster to capacity THREE TIMES. We still have a box set aside for "goodwill", as well as a bit too much stuff altogether. Sadly, not necessarily the stuff we need, just stuff we can't justify getting rid of.

I repeat, the stuff we can't justify getting rid of.

And even when we get rid of it in a way that isn't contributing to the disposable cycle of capitalism or snubbing our noses at the ultra-fiscal conservation that helped us survive and get out of the poverty cusp, there are other considerations.

I dropped off two boxes and three bags of knitting needles, yarn and such. In doing so, I had to give up on the idea that I was, to any degree - despite not knitting in YEARS - a knitter. I had to release that from my own self-identity. I am not a knitter. I know how to knit, but I don't spend any real time on it.

I am also not a pasta maker. I can bake bread, make soft pretzels in lye, and can and ferment all manner of produce. But I had to let most of that go from my identity. I can do these things, but they are not who I am. They are not things that I have to do to save money or make money (I sold baked goods at the farmer's market), and they are not things that I want to spend significant amounts of time doing.

I can do these things, but I have to let them go lest they fill up my home with stuff, and my time with work, when I can and should be focused on the things that are part of my path. I can still make pretzels, but I am not a pretzel-maker.

I am a writer of Pagan-ish fantasy and Pagan non-fiction. I am an author, speaker, presenter, and teacher. And that means I don't need all the stuff. What it DOES mean is that I actually did spell-work to help break those bonds and reassert my self-identity. Yeah, it was that strong.

So we have a new motto: Never again the Hoarding Times!

And, in case you think that my problem is only my own, my parents, who live alone in a good sized 2-BR and have a garage, just rented a 5x10 storage unit for their stuff. My grandmother washed and reused bits of foil. There is a ton of stuff written on poverty and hoarding, and generational poverty, so I'm certain I'm not alone in this struggle.