It's an uncomfortable time to have ideas.
I have a lot of them that I don't know what to do with, but they’ve been begging me for some resistance and growth. So I talk to my husband, who I’m often near and who has mostly the same ideas. We push and pull a bit, but overlapping core values and beliefs usually lead us to mutual validation.
Sometimes I call my best friend, and if both of our babies are napping or otherwise engaged, we’ll wade through an idea together in short, powerful strides. Those quick conversations feel sacrosanct; it energizes me to unpack life with someone who doesn't live within these same four walls, has a different worldview than me, and is not only willing, but eager to engage in this questioning and exploring. She’s my beneficial adversary (a term I borrow from Jordan Peterson), in some ways. In others, she's my lifelong best friend, so there is of course still a lot of mutual validation happening 😂
More often than not, I sit on my ideas or I exchange Instagram DM memes with a few select individuals who I know are on exactly the same page as me on the controversial topic du jour. At least this outlet provides me a little dopamine hit, bolstering my sense of belonging — of us vs them.
The irony is that I don't believe in us vs them. At least I claim I don’t. I'm a mindfulness teacher, with years of training under world-class mentors. One reason I'm drawn to this practice is its emphasis on interconnectedness — a central tenet of Buddhist teachings that inform the practice of mindfulness (as its widely taught in the West today). Interconnectedness says nothing exists in isolation. The idea of flourishing in isolation is an illusion of "otherness"; of believing you are fundamentally separate from those who suffer, when in fact, you are not. For example, picture your home life (if you live with anyone else). If you’re feeling exuberant, and then your housemate walks in crying, your feeling of exuberance will likely shift or dim a bit, now reflecting back some of that sadness. Whether you feel emotionally connected to that roommate or not, if they're unhappy, you're — on some level, however subtle — also unhappy. We have all felt this effect with our parents, siblings, or children. If one of us is suffering — we are suffering. (I remember feeling so unsettled as a child when my brother or sister were upset, regardless of how well my day had been going.) All things exist in relationship to others. This applies equally to individuals, societies, and entire countries and continents. I subscribe to this idea — it feels like a deep truth in my bones. It's also something that consistently tests my faith, as it competes for my loyalty with my fiercely protective us vs them instinct.
The thing that nourishes me most about the quick conversations with my best friend is the ensuing sense of mutual belonging; a shared belonging to humanity that includes members of all religions and faiths, political parties, countries, cultures, genders, races, sexualities, socio-economic statuses — everything. A sense of interconnectedness. I know for a fact that there are several topics we disagree on, but our agreement on our mutual belonging creates time and space for us to explore all the edges of our disagreement. Doing this helps me discern what I believe deeply to be true from what I’m holding onto for the sake of consistency and not wanting to be proven wrong.
My Instagram DM exchanges have the opposite effect on my psyche — as much as it pains me to say this, because I love them. They feed my sense of exclusive belonging (i.e. me and my ideas belong here [in this neighborhood / in this country / in this world], you and your ideas don't]. My social media feed (just one example of a platform/space where I spend large chunks of my time) always feeds me a cheap us vs them thrill. I don’t fundamentally believe in this approach to life, but it’s too much effort to peel myself away from the slot machine of scrolling for validation. My team always wins!
I know the ideas I hold about life and this world are incomplete — half-baked tidbits that I pick up along the way and weave into my idea of who I think I am and how I think we all should be. I'm just one person, with a relatively narrow perspective on life; I can only draw on so many firsthand data points to inform my ideas. My perspective has been shaped by my upbringing and experiences — as has yours and virtually every other human being's. I grew up in Chesterfield, Missouri; I've always had a loving and caring mother and father, who are still married; I received higher education; I was born with chronic, sometimes debilitating, eczema and allergies. There is an infinite number of data points I can point to that make up the matrix of my being, and each one has another infinite layers beneath it that make it unique. The same is true of you.
Despite my half-baked ideas, I also know I have something of value to offer this world, and I know you do, too. But I don't know exactly what my offering is — I feel out of touch with that, to some degree. In Jonathan Haidt’s words (on Ten Percent Happier), "We understand that to get stronger, we need resistance to push against. But how do we get smarter? We naturally look for evidence that we're right, but if we look for evidence that we’re wrong, we get smarter a lot faster. If you read things that are contrary to your view, you'll get smarter really quickly. If I seek out people who disagree, my work gets better, faster."
I feel restless, craving engagement more than ever. I feel myself dulling down and, with that, my opportunity to contribute to this world in a way I can feel proud of slipping away. I've managed to swaddle myself into a cozy cocoon of an echo-chamber — the voice of validation lulling me to sleep. I’m surrounded by the gentleness of ideas that support my own, in part thanks to the ease of social media and in part because I have placed higher value on comfort and kindness than on growth and truth. Instagram (my toxin of choice, as a millennial) makes me feel good about my biases and prejudices for a few short moments most days. It never stretches me, or provides me with any meaningful resistance for growth. It feeds the most base human instinct in me — us versus them. And I'm always on the right side. What's not to love?
I'm only now realizing that I love growth more than comfort, and that I value truth above kindness (more on that another time). I don’t really want people to tell me I’m right, day in and day out, without giving me any food for thought. The well-intentioned proverbial mother of validation is suffocating me and my ability to contribute to the world around me as a thoughtful, engaged citizen.
There are so many threads and themes in my mind these days that feel interconnected. (E.g. my first post here was on creating vs consuming, which may not seem clearly linked to today’s topic, but they feel intrinsically linked to me.)
Daily writing feels like one way to lay these thoughts out and see where I'm really at, what I really think, and what feels like it's getting closer to truth. That’s what brings me here.
If you’re still reading, I would love to learn from you as we go. Books are wonderfully rich, there are great articles out there, and YouTube has an incredible library of content from great thinkers across the globe, but there's still a layer of disconnectedness and a lack of accountability. None of these resources push and pull on ideas the way you and I can together. I think you know and feel this too, and that that’s why you’re here. How can be invite more authentic discourse into our lives?
I’m curious to know if you’ve found a community that challenges you to stretch and strengthen your mind. When’s the last time you had civil discourse (not an argument) with someone who disagrees with you, and you allowed yourself to change your mind? If no instance comes to mind, is that because you are unequivocally always right in your convictions and beliefs? Or do you avoid the discomfort of acknowledging others’ humanity all costs? I find it much harder to politely end the conversation and close the door on a salesperson in real life (this was recently tested) than to simply hang up on a telemarketer who is mid-sentence. There’s a discomfort in disrespecting one another when we’re invited to actually be with one another. I think this is a good thing; remembering and recognizing that we’re both human beings feels like the bare minimum that should be in place before we shut ourselves off from one another’s ideas. So let’s look one another directly in the eye and let’s pause long enough to be in this moment together, dignifying our ideas with a mutual acknowledgement of our shared humanity.
If eye contact isn’t possible (hello, Substack reader), at the very least, I’d love to know your actual name.
Thank you for being here. I can’t wait to keep untangling this all with you :) I’ll continue to share what’s on my mind every week. Some of it may excite you and some of it may upset you. Some of it may bore you (my writing muscles have atrophied; I’m grateful for this space to rebuild strength!). My sincere hope, if you choose to stick around, is that you’re willing to reflect and engage with an open mind and heart.
Kindness vs truth is an interesting dichotomy. Hopefully one can aim for both, but in some situations that can be difficult.
I love this, Miriam. Such a refreshing, honest exploration - and deeply resonates with my own ambivalence towards "being right," "having the answer," and "us vs. them."