We bathe daily in our own arrogance, so certain that our truth is the universal proof that ultimately justifies our way of life. We speak in absolutes, proselytize our ideology with such vigor that there is no room for discussion or dissent. To think otherwise is to be wrong, and to be wrong is to be worthless in our constrained little universe.
But your black and white leaves no room for my unique shade of gray. Your truth denies my proof and your ideology does not work within the comfortable universe I’ve built for myself. Your experiences don’t exist for me, and my eyes have witnessed the creation of a different reality set apart from yours by years of living my own story.
In simple terms: we’re different.
I’m amused by the eager heart so impassioned by a newfound cause that it spends its time and energy force-feeding revelations to anyone brave enough to enquire. While I admire the courageous heart that stands up for the rebellion, even if the evil oppressor exists in the confines of their own mind, I grow weary of those that wallow in the mud of some self-imagined perfection.
If a belief is so tender that it must be protected on all sides by violent voices and determined defenses, then perhaps the foundation of the idea is too tenuous to survive rational thought. Perhaps its defenders should give it another look.
If cruel words and personal attacks are necessary to ensure this “truth” isn’t killed off by fact, then it has no place in my world, thanks. If those that disbelieve must be labeled dimwitted or unintelligent, the proof is most likely nonsensical and ill suited for those of a practical bent.
There is much to be said for taking a step back from our fervent defending and giving others the space to think for themselves. Armed with compassion, disagreements can be a place of growth, not necessarily a place of battle. If you feel the need to attack, one must wonder why the “truth” cannot stand on its own.
Can we not reason together as adults? Can we not stand with mutual respect while engaging the mind rather than the tongue?
If I am asking too much, then perhaps we’ll revisit this at some other time....when you’ve grown up.
