As California enters its second lockdown, I keep thinking about freedom. What does it mean to be free? Some people would say it’s doing whatever you want, whenever you want. But is that really true?
I read a great essay by Rebecca Solnit on “Masculinity as Radical Selfishness.” She mentions the axiom, “My right to swing my arm ends where your nose begins,” which is about balancing personal freedom with the rights of others. It’s also about watching out for someone else’s rights. She says what we’re seeing a prevalence of right now though is the idea that my right to swing my arm doesn’t end where your nose begins, but instead just doesn’t end. And in fact, your nose is not my problem and should get out of the way.
She also says in the U.S., “unlimited armswinging peaks at an intersection between whiteness and maleness, with plenty of white women on board who seem to believe that a white lady’s job is to protect white men’s armswinging (often with a selfless disregard for their own noses).” I think she’s right. Often what we associate with “freedom” is really just hypermasculinity because again to quote Solnit, the isolated individual (ideally white and male) are the metaphorical fists and must rule supreme. However, there’s a lack of understanding here that no man is an island; we don’t live in our own self-contained bubbles accomplishing everything by ourselves. It seems to me this pandemic more than anything is highlighting that. We want someone else to cut our hair. We want someone else to make our food. We want someone else to sit next to us and smile.
Would this woman be able to travel safely without the limit of road rules? No. Photo by Averie Woodard on Unsplash
Humans are social creatures. We are not meant to live in isolation. The hypermasculine freedom some in the U.S. idealize is a myth because what happens when that individual gets sick? They rely on the collective to help them out – they go to the hospital for care, or a doctor, or the drugstore.
My spiritual teacher says “just as my life is important to me, others’ lives are equally important to them; and if we do not give proper value to the lives of all creatures, then the development of the entire humanity becomes impossible.”
It becomes impossible because individual life is bound to the collective. Collective welfare lies in individuals and individual welfare lies in collectivity. There is no instance where my individual welfare doesn’t contribute to collective welfare. And furthermore, real freedom requires constraint. That may seem like an oxymoron but hear me out. Retired Navy SEAL, author, and podcaster Jocko Willink says, “Freedom is what everyone wants – to be able to act and live with freedom. But the only way to get to a place of freedom is through discipline. If you want financial freedom, you have to have financial discipline. If you want more free time, you have to follow a more disciplined time management system. Discipline equals freedom applies to every aspect of life: If you want more freedom, get more discipline.”
He’s talking specifically about individual freedom of course, but I think the same message applies to collective freedom. We’re able to drive safely, for the most part, because there are rules associated with driving. We’re able to buy food we enjoy because there are regulations that keep expired food off the shelves. I realize there are problems with the rules and regulations I listed, but I’d much rather have those problems than going into a grocery store and wondering if the food I’m buying will poison me.
Real freedom requires discipline and a care for others. Anything else is just selfishness that will eventually catch up to us.
I dream of a world where we recognize true freedom requires giving up a little bit of freedom. A world where we understand we can’t do what we want whenever we please without consequences for ourselves and others. A world where we understand real freedom requires limits.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
All week I’ve been thinking about the starfish story. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, the story goes like this: One day a man was walking along the beach littered with starfish, also called sea stars. He noticed a girl picking them up gently throwing them back into the ocean. Approaching the girl, he asked, “What are you doing?” She replied, “Throwing starfish back into the ocean. The surf is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them back, they’ll die.”
The man said, “Don’t you realize there are miles and miles of beach and hundreds of starfish? You can’t make a difference!” After listening politely, the girl bent down, picked up another sea star and threw it back into the ocean. Smiling at the man she said, “I made a difference for that one.”
I love this story because it’s the reminder you don’t have to save all the sea stars, or all the people, or all the animals, or all the whatever. Even one life matters. It’s hard for me to remember that because instead I think of quantity. Quantity is what’s encouraged in our capitalistic culture. “How many views did that blogpost get?” “How many followers do you have?” “How big is your email list?” We think in terms of quantity because quality is hard to, well, quantify. How do you measure if listening to a song brought a person to tears? Or reading a book changed someone’s life? You can’t really. We try by saying, “Well, it was popular. It went viral,” but lots of things go viral.
Photo by Pedro Lastra on Unsplash
A compilation video of cats freaking out when they see cucumbers has gone viral – 24 million views and counting – but has anyone’s life changed as a result? I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with cat videos, I’m merely pointing out whether something is viral is not a good measure of its quality. I have to keep reminding myself of this because otherwise I get too fixated on the end result. I start thinking about all the sea stars littered across the beach instead of the one in front of me, so to speak. And the one in front of me matters. It matters because every life is precious and also because every person cares about what happens in their life. We are all a little self-centered, in a good way.
What I have to keep coming back to is why am I even writing in the first place? Sometimes I write just for me. But the writing I make available for public consumption is for me and for others. My spiritual teacher said:
“In every expression, in every stratum of this universe, however crude or subtle, only one refrain prevails, and that refrain is the attainment of bliss. In that artistic movement toward welfare both the attainment and the bestowal of happiness find simultaneous expression. When litterateurs dedicate themselves to the service or practice of literature, they have to let their creative genius flow in this very current: They have to cleanse all that is turbid, all that is inauspicious in individual life in the holy waters of their universal mentality, and then convey it sweetly and gracefully into the heart of humanity.”
When I write the things that matter to me, I’m trying to touch the heart of humanity. I’m trying to share my experience, strength, hope, and perspective in an effort to let people know they’re not alone. Or to get them to entertain a new perspective. Or open their hearts a little more. When I lose sight of my intention, that’s when I start thinking it only matters if I hit a certain threshold of popularity. But it doesn’t. Because like the girl throwing sea stars back into the ocean, I may not be making a difference for a million people, but I’m making a difference for at least one. And that’s something.
I dream of a world where we remember quantity isn’t everything. A world where we remember quality counts. A world where we keep in mind our intentions. A world where we stay close to the “why” of our actions and use that as motivation to propel us forward.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I had a conversation with a friend this weekend and was reminded that believing in materialism is a choice. We in the West take it for granted that materialism is the most scientific, rational way of being and that conversely, spirituality is unscientific and irrational. But is that really true?
First, some definitions. Materialism is the theory or belief that matter is the fundamental substance in nature, and that all things, including mental states and consciousness, are results of material interactions. Spirituality is the theory or belief that there is more to life than meets the senses, and more to the universe than just purposeless mechanics. It also involves believing in a higher form of intelligence or consciousness.
Spirituality can be studied and one way to do so is through psychic phenomena. For instance, the feeling that someone is staring at you. Did you know that numerous scientists have run experiments on exactly that? The basic setup is a starer sits a few yards away from a staree. The starer flips a coin that determines whether or not they will stare at the staree. The staree then responds that yes, they are being stared at, or no, they are not. In a total of 33,357 trials of this experiment, the overall success rate was 54.5%, meaning 54.5% of the time, the staree guessed correctly. Left purely to chance, the success rate would have instead been 50%.
Isn’t this image great? Photo by Science in HD on Unsplash
As you can likely infer from the number of experiments – more than 33,000 of them – the setups have varied. Some people were separated by windows, some were stared at over a one-way video circuit, and some had a person sit in an electromagnetically sealed chamber! Yet despite the scientific proof over and over again showing extrasensory perception is real, skeptics say the experiments are flawed or fraudulent. They have no evidence to their claims but they hold on to their perspective anyway. I ask you, were all 33,357 trials “junk” science? Why is it so hard to believe psychic phenomena is real? It’s only hard to believe if you’re a hardcore materialist because in that worldview, psychic phenomena cannot exist.
People are welcome to believe what they want, but let’s not pretend materialism is the most rational and scientific way of being when science itself shows there’s more to life than what can be sensed with the eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and skin. Let’s also not pretend science and spirituality are silos when in fact, they can support one another, and also some spiritual teachers (like my own) welcome science.
My spiritual teacher said “science is indispensable for human progress.” And also that, “[W]e should probe for solutions to problems through the proper cultivation of science. . . No matter how complicated problems are, we have to evolve the necessary scientific means to meet the challenge.”
Science can be interlaced with spirituality. They don’t have to be separate. They can support one another and spirituality can motivate science. Aren’t people curious about the world? About the mysteries of creation? If we keep beating the drum that materialism is all there is, we miss out on explaining what is currently unexplained. We sell ourselves short and limit ourselves as well as our own understanding. That doesn’t seem very scientific to me.
I dream of a world where we understand materialism is only one way of looking at the world. A world where we realize spirituality can be just as scientific as materialism. A world where we use spirituality to propel scientific innovation and solve the greatest challenges facing us today.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
A few weeks ago, I wrote that I feel sad regarding this pandemic. Now instead of sad, I’m angry. I hate this freaking pandemic. I hate that I haven’t been in the presence of another person without a mask in MONTHS. MONTHS. Yes, I’m going on walks with people, yes, I’m doing a lot of socializing virtually, but I just want to sit in the presence of another person and see their whole face. Is that too much to ask?
Frankly, I understand the appeal of the anti-masker, “plandemic” philosophy. It’s much more appealing to believe the pandemic is a completely made up thing that the government created in an effort to control humanity rather than the alternative. Because the alternative is this – not getting together with friends and family for the holidays, not seeing smiles on the faces of people you love, not touching each other. It SUCKS.
I purposely chose reddish paint swatches. Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash
So heck yeah I’d like to pretend none of this is real. Why am I sharing this? Because I ascribe to psychotherapist Michael Eigen’s philosophy. He wrote in his book Feeling Matters:
“As long as feelings are second-class citizens, people will be second-class citizens. Experience is an endangered species. An important function of psychotherapy is to make time for experiencing. Psychic taste buds really exist and rarely rest. They feed us each other, gauge states of being, states of spirit. We taste each other’s feelings and intentions.”
This is me offering up my state of being, my state of spirit. It’s not fun, it’s not pretty, but it’s real. And if anger remains unexpressed, it can turn into depression, which explains how I’ve felt this week watching holiday movies and realizing I will not have any of those experiences. I will not be at a holiday party. I will not be opening gifts with my siblings. I will not have a big indoor dinner with anyone. At first it depressed me but now I’m mad. I’m giving a big middle finger to this pandemic because it deserves it.
At the same time because life is complicated, I’m also grateful for the pandemic. This weekend I organized a Zoom call with the young people in my yoga and meditation group and we had attendees not only from the U.S., but also Mexico, Brazil, Portugal, Italy, Germany, and Denmark. I’m not sure that would have happened if we weren’t forced to socialize over the internet. Similarly, I’m seeing several of my college friends every week as we gather for a virtual Shabbat service. That also wouldn’t have happened without this pandemic.
Life is weird and complicated. And that means I can feel profoundly pissed off as well as profoundly grateful. Both can be true. I think being a fully functional adult means holding the paradox over and over again. It means allowing opposing things to occupy the same place. It means recognizing nuance. It means seeing shades of gray. And it also means creating space for our feelings.
I dream of a world where we express our emotions. A world where we feed our psychic taste buds. A world where we allow ourselves to feel happy and sad and angry and grateful and whatever else arises. Because ultimately we know life is nuanced.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I have to admit, I’m relieved the election is over and also that Biden won. I danced with joy and cried watching Kamala Harris give her speech on Saturday night. However, I know other people feel differently. There’s a part of me that still doesn’t understand how people can vote for a man who literally puts children in cages. Or how Kentucky residents reelected Mitch McConnell who laughed, laughed! when his opponent Amy McGrath criticized him for holding up a COVID-19 relief bill.
Are Kentuckians not suffering? Are they all employed and unaffected by the pandemic? Obviously not, so why would they vote for a man who clearly doesn’t care about their wellbeing? The first answer is that people like the familiar even if it’s toxic. It’s why they stay in jobs they hate or with people who are abusive. Change is hard. The second answer goes back to a question a dear friend of mine asks: “What is the boundary of your identity?”
There are people in the U.S. who only identify with people who look like them, act like them, think like them. And they vote accordingly. Research supports this. NBC News reported back in 2018 that when intolerant White people fear democracy may benefit marginalized people, they abandon their commitment to democracy.
“[P]eople who said they did not want to live next door to immigrants or to people of another race were more supportive of the idea of military rule, or of a strongman-type leader who could ignore legislatures and election results,” the research found.
It all comes down to fear but also groupism. I want to point out Democrats and progressives do this too – they also identify with people who think like them and act like them. And for those who don’t, they’re demonized and denigrated. They are not a part of the “in” group. No one, myself included, is immune from groupism and it takes commitment to keep expanding the boundary of your identity. However, whenever I think about the world I want to live in, it always hinges on universalism and cooperation. It always hinges on seeing myself in others.
So how do we do that? Some people practice a loving-kindness meditation, or perhaps they follow the work of Dr. Candice Nicole, who seeks to help people become less racist, sexist, classist, etc. As for me, I practice seeing the divine in everyone, extending the feeling of love to everyone. In the spirit of moving our world to a collective, cohesive one, here is a meditation that I created:
Sit in a comfortable position. Close your eyes and inhale, filling your belly. Notice it rise with each inhale and fall with each exhale. Do that twice more, inhaling and exhaling. Think of a person or animal that you love deeply. Notice the feeling in your body when you think of this person or animal. Do you feel warmth in your chest? Is there a smile on your face? Just notice whatever arises as you feel love toward this being.
Looking at this cutie pie puts a smile on my face! Photo by Sharath Kumar Hari on Unsplash
Let the image of this person or animal fade away so all that’s left is the feeling of love in your heart and body. Take three more deep breaths as you let yourself bathe in this feeling of love.
As you let yourself bathe in this feeling of love, recognize this feeling is always with you. It lives in your heart and your body. It doesn’t require the presence of anyone else and is something you can feel at any time if you choose.
Now imagine a person who doesn’t look like you or think like you. Maybe they’re Black or White. Maybe they’re progressive or conservative. Before letting yourself feel scared, or angry, or whatever feeling usually arises, bring to mind the person or animal that you love. The being you conjured previously. Imagine the person or animal you love standing in front of the person you have trouble identifying with, acting as a shield. Notice you can still feel love even in the presence of this other person.
As you let the feeling of love come back into your body, imagine the person you have trouble identifying with shrinking. Shrinking until they’re one inch tall. Once the person is one inch tall, imagine the person or animal you love scooping up that one-inch person and placing them in their heart. That one-inch person has now merged with the being that you love, has dissolved into the being you love. Again, notice the feeling of love in your heart. Be aware that you still love this person or animal even though they now carry the same particles as the one-inch tall person.
Feel your heart soften as you realize we all have the same particles as every created being in this universe. And also that you can extend your feeling of love. Take three more deep breaths into your belly. When you’re ready, open your eyes. As you do, remember you are helping to bring more love into the world. And more love means a better world for us all.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’m freaked out by the upcoming election and I know I’m not the only one. Democrats are worried Republicans will win. Republicans are worried Democrats will win. We are all watching this election closely. I don’t have any advice about that but what I can say is regardless of what happens, I feel soothed thinking about something I learned recently.
You may already know this, but Harvard University political scientist Erica Chenoweth discovered in order to enact change requires only 3.5% of the population actively participating in protests. She told the BBC in 2019: “Numbers really matter for building power in ways that can really pose a serious challenge or threat to entrenched authorities or occupations.” And furthermore, nonviolent protest seems to be the best way to get that widespread support. Once that 3.5% threshold is reached, success is inevitable.
“There weren’t any campaigns that had failed after they had achieved 3.5% participation during a peak event,” Chenoweth said. Examples of such movements include the People Power movement in Manila that folded the Marcos regime, the Singing Revolution in Estonia in the late 1980s, and the Rose Revolution in Georgia in early 2003.
I love this picture because it’s from London’s Gay Pride parade in 1978. It’s a good example of how a minority can tip the scales of public opinion. Photo by Ian Sanderson on Unsplash
For the United States, 3.5% of the population is around 11 million, which is more than the number of people living in New York City. That number sounds like a lot when it’s phrased that way, but relatively speaking, the number isn’t that large. There’s something inspiring for me about knowing it only takes a fraction of the population to actually change things. So often I think change happens when the majority of the population is on board with something and how often does that happen? Chenoweth’s research shows otherwise, although an important caveat is that she thinks when the 3.5% threshold is reached, it’s indicative a larger swathe of the population feels similarly. But still.
As someone who cares a lot about people and the environment, I feel better knowing I don’t have to convince everyone to feel the same way I do. I only have to convince a few people. Just kidding! I don’t think I can convince anyone of anything but I’d like to believe telling the truth has some effect. And a new truth I’ve learned is that pioneers don’t require a majority, or even a large minority, to move society in a different direction. They only require 3.5% of the population.
I want to close here with a quote from my spiritual teacher because it seems especially hopeful right now. He said: “Clouds cannot overcast the sun for a long time. The creatures of darkness never want the expansive exaltation of human society. Even then, humanity shall march ahead. None can arrest the speed of its progress. You be the harbingers; you be the pioneers of this victorious march. See that not a single individual lags behind.”
I dream of a world where the pioneers of social progress march ahead, inspiring others to join their cause. A world where we band together to ensure people and the environment are valued, respected, and cared for. A world where we realize a small minority has always pushed the envelope and made the world better for all of us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This week I’ve seethed with envy multiple times. That’s nothing new and if you’ve been reading this blog for a while you know I semi-regularly feel envy, especially regarding my career. When I see someone who has what I want, I don’t view it as a sign that I, too, can achieve what they achieved. I know I’m supposed to, but what can I say? I’m a flawed human being.
As I’ve wrestled with the feeling of envy this week, a story kept coming to mind that I shared with numerous friends. Way back in 2005 I studied abroad in London. When I was there, I wanted to travel to Italy but it didn’t happen – I ran out of money and time. For the next seven years, whenever someone talked about their trip to Italy, I burned with envy. I cannot convey how badly I wanted to go, how much that dream percolated within me.
Flashforward to 2012. I was working for a radiology publication and they decided to send me to Vienna, Austria, to cover a conference. I asked them if I could take time off after the conference for travel and they said yes, which meant I was flying to Europe on someone else’s dime. As you likely know, plane tickets to Europe aren’t cheap.
I did it! That’s me at the Ponte Vecchio in Florence.
Also, because of the timing, a friend of mine who was teaching English in France had off for her spring break. That meant not only could I finally travel to Italy, but also tour it with a friend. That trip? There were hard moments but it was also one of the most grace-filled trips of my life. I saw Michelangelo’s David for free because my friend and I “happened” to visit the museum on International Women’s Day and that meant free admission for us women.
I stayed with friends in Florence who I’d met well after my study abroad experience who showed me around the city, taking me to the best vegetarian restaurants. While in Rome, I checked Facebook and a monk I knew from the States announced, “I’m in Rome.” I messaged him and said “I’m in Rome!” He told me of a group meditation the next day, and how to get there via the train. I walked on the second to last train car and sitting at the end, in a seat facing me, was Shawn, a friend of mine.
The monk told me I’d see Shawn but I didn’t anticipate running into him on the train. I squealed in delight and Shawn was surprised to say the least. We ended up spending a day together touring the Colosseum, the church containing Michelangelo’s Moses with the horns, and more.
Why am I sharing this story? Because it reminds me the universe is conspiring on our behalf to bring us what we want, but there are more elements involved that just our desire. In the U.S. we sometimes operate with the myth that if we work hard enough, we’ll achieve everything we want. That’s not true for many reasons – including racism and sexism to name a couple – but it’s also not true because we’re not the only ones in charge of making a dream happen. There are other factors at play – like timing and relationships.
My version of this photo is grainy and dark so here’s one by Steve Barker on Unsplash
My spiritual teacher says that “whatever happens in this universe of ours is nothing but an expression of Cosmic desire or Cosmic will … when a human desire and His desire coincide, then only does the human desire become fruitful, otherwise it is a sure failure.”
What that means for me, today, is remembering my dream of being a bestselling author with social cachet will only come true if it’s the will of the Cosmos, and furthermore, these dreams have multiple moving parts. My desire is only a small part of the process. I will keep taking the necessary actions, but in the meantime, I’m offering this dream over to Divine Love. Maybe it will be like my trip to Italy where I’m surprised and delighted by what unfolds.
I dream of a world where we realize hard work is not the only ingredient required to make a dream come true. A world where we remember there are other factors at play. A world where we understand nothing manifests unless it’s in alignment with Cosmic will and desire. A world where we do our part and surrender the rest.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
A little more than nine years ago I wrote one of my favorite posts: “Hitching Wagons to Stars.” It wasn’t particularly well read. It didn’t garner numerous comments or shares, but it’s one of my favorites because it speaks to a recurring dynamic in my life: shining.
The phrase “Hitch your wagon to a star” comes from Ralph Waldo Emerson’s essay Civilization. In it he talks about partnering with the natural world to create something new. His quote though has since morphed to mean “Always aspire to do great things,” and then “Try to succeed by forming a relationship with someone who is already successful.”
I’ve frequently taken the latter approach myself, trying to sidle up to someone else who is famous or successful. If we’re using the wagon and star analogy, I usually envision myself as the wagon and never the star. A part of me believes I can’t shine without the presence of someone else. I want someone else’s light to rub off on me. That means I cross my fingers Chris Evans will like an Instagram post where I thank him for playing Captain America, or that Elizabeth Gilbert will thumbs up a blogpost where I mention her. And when they don’t, I feel first sad and then angry because my master plan was thwarted. My master plan being if someone famous notices me, then I’ll finally achieve what I’ve wanted all along: to be a star.
We can all be one of these. Photo by Jess Bailey on Unsplash
I don’t want to be a star in the traditional sense – I can’t act and while I have a nice voice, it’s not Grammy-award winning. I don’t even necessarily want to be an influencer because it sounds exhausting to post something fun and interesting and beautiful on Instagram every day. But I still want to be a star, which for me means writing a bestselling book and having a large swathe of people care about what I have to say. I know numerous people already care about what I have to say, for which I’m grateful, but I want there to be more of them.
These days what I’m coming to understand is I don’t have to rely on someone else to give me what I want. I don’t need to be retweeted or reshared to propel me to stardom, which is perhaps why it hasn’t happened. I’m not doing myself any favors by viewing myself as a wagon instead of a star. I can shine brightly on my own. We all can. We are each of us stars in our own right – some smaller, some larger, but still a star.
I dream of a world where we realize we don’t need someone else in order to shine. A world where we don’t limit ourselves and what we’re capable of. A world where we understand we don’t need to hitch our wagon to a star because we can be our own star.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This past week I canceled a trip to Washington, D.C. I had planned for later this month. Way back in April when I originally intended to go, I figured by the fall surely everything with COVID-19 would be sorted. That we’d shelter in place for a few months and then we’d be able to go about our business as usual.
As you know, that didn’t happen and it’s quite likely the rest of the year will continue in the same fashion it already has. Canceling my trip was somehow the watershed moment for me as I’ve realized how much this year has taken from all of us. I’ve cried so many times this week. I’ve grieved my inability to travel abroad as well as domestically. I’ve grieved how I can’t be closer than 6 feet to my friends without worry. I’ve grieved that plans and parties have all been scuppered. This year has been rough.
It’s not only COVID-19, it’s all of it. It’s Black Lives Matter, it’s climate change, it’s Donald Trump and the circus he’s ringleading. It’s fear of the future as well as fear of the present. I watch television shows and movies filmed before the pandemic and I feel wistful and envious of life before. When we took physical presence for granted. When we shook each other’s hands without a second thought. When we didn’t feel alarmed every time someone coughed. I’m sad. I’m really sad.
I miss sharing moments like these with someone else. Photo by Matt Heaton on Unsplash
I posted on Instagram that I wish I could pull a Rip Van Winkle and wake up when the world is different. It’s true, I do. And at the same time as often happens with grief, the world becomes sharper so I’m recognizing what I truly care about. For me, this year is clarifying how much I miss my family and want to spend more time with them. It’s also clear to me if I don’t leave my bubble every three to four months, if I don’t travel somewhere, I lose my freaking mind. And because I can’t actually do that in the way I’d like, I’m dreaming more. I’m using Pinterest for the first time ever creating a board of all the places I want to visit. I haven’t made a list like that since high school.
For other people, the pandemic is providing clarity in terms of their living situations. They’re moving apartments, houses, states, even countries. They’re recognizing they don’t actually like where they live and doing something about it. The same is true with relationships: People are either breaking up or they’re settling down. This pandemic is shaking us all up like a snow globe, which has its pros as well as cons.
Something else this period is highlighting for me is how precious time is. It’s the commodity we can’t have back. I don’t particularly miss restaurants or going to shows. I miss lying on the grass next to someone else and watching the clouds go by, calling out the different shapes they make. I miss reading a book on the couch while my feet are brushing against my sister’s.
As a friend of mine says, this year is refocusing our attention on simple pleasures. Instead of worrying so much about achieving, progressing, and doing, in the U.S. anyway we’re slowing down, reconnecting with family and friends, and remembering what truly matters. In case it wasn’t clear, what truly matters is you.
I dream of a world where we remember what’s most important. A world where we value our relationships and connections over material goods. A world where we cherish the moments we have with one another as we recognize how finite they truly are.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I find it telling that when Trump announced he has COVID-19, many people assumed he was lying. I realize that’s because he’s a compulsive liar, but I think it also speaks to the larger milieu we find ourselves in – we don’t know what’s true anymore. And what’s so chilling is the inability to distinguish truth from untruth is by design as I learned recently from watching the documentary/drama The Social Dilemma. I’m going to quote from the film so if you’d rather be surprised, stop reading here.
An idea I hadn’t considered before watching The Social Dilemma is people are making money off of disinformation not only on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube, but also the supposed repository of truth, Google. If you google “climate change,” you’ll get different answers depending on where you live and what you searched for previously. That’s scary. It means we don’t have shared reality with one another anymore, as we’ve seen, and that creates division. There are “sheeple” and “idiots” and “people who haven’t done their own research.” There are people who’ve been “red pilled” and are “still living in the matrix.” How did we get here?
The truth is boring and doesn’t encourage engagement, whether that’s clicks or likes or comments or reshares. Misinformation spreads about six times faster on Twitter than the truth, according to a study from MIT. If Twitter cares about increasing the number of users, of getting more eyeballs to view an ad, what incentive does it have for shutting down fake news? It doesn’t. The same is true of Facebook and also YouTube. What’s even scarier is it’s easy to get brainwashed on YouTube. If you watch one conspiracy video, YouTube will recommend another and then another and then another until you’re convinced that the world really is flat. That’s exactly what happened to basketball player Kyrie Irving. He publicly said the Earth was flat and then later apologized, offering this explanation: “You click a YouTube link and it’s like how deep does the rabbit hole go? You start telling all your friends, ‘Did you see that? Watch this video.’”
We don’t know what’s true because there’s so much disinformation flying around and it’s easy to fall for fake news. I know I have. For instance, when the pandemic first hit, I saw a picture floating around saying dolphins returned to the Venice canals and repeated that to a friend. However, it wasn’t true – the picture came from the coast of Sardinia. Yes, sharing that fake news didn’t hurt anyone, but we’re not always so lucky. Early investor in Facebook Roger McNamee said, “If you want to control the population of a country, there’s never been a more effective tool than Facebook.”
Y’all. That’s scary. And we’ve seen this already in the U.S. with the role Facebook played in the 2016 elections. It also happened in Myanmar with the ethnic cleansing of the Rohingya Muslims. The U.N. said Facebook had a “determining role” in whipping up anger against the minority group.
Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Instagram, all of it, are directly affecting our lives: how we think, how we vote, and also how we behave. That’s a lot of power in the hands of companies that are unregulated. Clearly the tech giants need government oversight but also, we can mitigate some of the effects by turning off all notifications on our phones so that we’re not constantly checking them. A former YouTube employee also said don’t watch YouTube’s recommendations and instead search for and choose videos yourself.
Lastly, I think something needs to be said about the mind itself. Many spiritual people think they know “the truth” because they meditate, they’re tapping into their intuition, they’re aligned with the source of all knowledge. According to my spiritual philosophy, there is such a thing as immutable truth, as absolute truth. That “thing,” or entity really, is Brahma, which is a combination of the consciousness that pervades the universe as well as the creative force that pervades the universe. Everything else is a relative truth.
What is often missing among spiritual people is the understanding the mind has layers, or filters. This post is already quite long so I won’t go into it today but even without launching into an in-depth explanation this makes sense. We filter everything we hear, everything we learn through the lens of our perception. We compare it with what we’ve heard before, what we’ve been exposed to, what we’ve experienced in the past. All of which is to say we’re not imbibing a perfect, unadulterated truth.
The best I think any of us can do right now is practice some humility and recognize we may not actually know everything, that our sources are flawed, and we don’t know the absolute truth. The best any of us can do right now is to cultivate healthy doubt and skepticism while also recognizing some things are truer than others: for instance, the Earth is round.
I dream of a world where we realize lies spread faster than the truth. A world where we realize the truth is relative and can change depending on time and space. A world where we leave room for being wrong while also recognizing there is such a thing as consensus reality. A world where we seek to find that consensus and remember some companies profit off of sowing disinformation.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.