What’s the Real Issue?

Our society is known for its sensitivity. Any suggestion that we might be mistaken prompts a classic retort of "I know you are, but what am I?"

But what if my goal is clarity rather than being right?

To truly dissect the layers of ideology surrounding an issue requires a certain level of detachment, as Rock exemplified. I strive to keep a professional distance from my opinions, allowing for growth. My views, much like my career, do not define me. Just as I don't feel offended by someone’s differing profession, this approach shields me from provocation when encountering opposing opinions.

Throughout my childhood, my mother took my sister and me to pro-life demonstrations. It was common for us to stand outside an abortion clinic while she pleaded for the lives of unborn babies.

Language is crucial in contentious debates. Phrases like "terminate the pregnancy" were spoken with disdain in our household; to us, it was murder.

As a child, I found it hard to disagree. I had seen images of fully developed infants who could have been peacefully asleep were it not for the purple marks from saline injections used to end their lives.

Children naturally view the world in stark contrasts. There’s good and evil, heroes and villains.

For much of my youth, I identified with She-Ra, the brave heroine. As I matured, I saw myself more as Lorena Bobbitt—standing against injustice.

Yet, with the little maturity I’ve gained, I’ve had to acknowledge that both John Wayne Bobbitt and his infamous past are as much a part of my reality as my heroic ideals. The world is not merely black and white; it is filled with complexity.

Recognizing this truth fosters compassion, even for those with whom I disagree. My own dark side, as Carl Jung referred to it, is just as present in others. Disdaining another's flaws only leads to unbearable self-loathing, arising from the refusal to acknowledge our shared humanity.

Most of us are aware when we are acting against our morals because we instinctively conceal it. But what about our public actions? Like participating in rallies for or against abortion?

Everyone, on both sides, believes they are right. How can we criticize others for standing up for their convictions? By not identifying too closely with my beliefs, I can empathize across the board while distancing my emotions when discussing the topic.

Simplifying Complex Issues

I firmly uphold Occam’s Razor, which asserts that simpler explanations are often the most accurate. After viewing numerous videos and images, I recognize that at a certain developmental stage, a fetus is indeed a human baby. To deny this seems nearly impossible. We don’t require scientific validation; our eyes tell the truth.

However, it’s equally clear that the fetus is part of a woman's body, giving rise to a unique bond. While she is pregnant, her body encompasses her pregnancy. The freedom to govern our own bodies is the foremost right granted to us by any government.

Conservatives recognize this, opposing government mandates for vaccinations—and they are correct. No authority should enforce medical treatments upon its citizens.

Similarly, the right to bodily autonomy entails our freedom to choose substances for our use. Existing laws already protect individuals from crimes associated with drug use. The right to our own consciousness may even transcend bodily autonomy.

Yet, many conservatives attempt to utilize government to regulate our choices about what we can consume. Meanwhile, liberals insist on "my body, my choice," while advocating for mandatory vaccinations.

Political parties act as the big-box retailers of ideology, inflicting considerable damage. When our opinions come pre-packaged and delivered, the hard work of critical thinking is bypassed. We no longer question whether our views are valid as long as they align with half the population.

I have friends across the ideological spectrum—from flat-Earthers to hyper-liberal activists. They are all well-meaning individuals, and I wish they could recognize that.

Labels generate unnecessary conflict. The friction ignites an environment where individuals must choose between denying the reality of a fetus as a baby or supporting government-mandated pregnancies while ignoring their desire for personal freedom.

Do We Enjoy Dividing Ourselves?

Politics is rife with contradictions. Were I not aware of the genuine honesty within political discourse, I might suspect these inconsistencies are intentional. When our logic falters, even to ourselves, we resort to vehement attacks, fixating on the perceived wickedness of our opponents.

This schoolyard-style conflict distracts us, benefitting those who thrive on our anger. Deep down, we might sense this, but perhaps even more deeply, we enjoy harboring animosity toward one another.

It could be the ego boost from feeling superior to those we deem foolish, or maybe we simply lack the capacity to exist without enemies. Whatever the reason, it has fostered a world where disaster seems perpetually imminent, and it’s always someone else's fault.

The threat of impending doom keeps us reactive, allowing us to direct our anger toward the wealthy while inadvertently enabling their agenda through our misdirected outrage.

I remain indifferent to the rich accumulating more wealth. Let them drown in their own despair. What others possess does not affect me. I am more interested in contributing to a world where radical compassion flourishes, free from labels.

"We're all going to die, all of us. What a circus! That alone should inspire love among us, yet it doesn’t. We’re paralyzed by trivial matters, consumed by nothingness." — Charles Bukowski

In America, there are three types of people: the wealthy, those who envy them, and truly happy individuals. As more of us shed our resentment toward those who possess more while simultaneously empowering their greed with our misplaced focus on superficial labels, happiness will flourish in equal measure. When blame is absent, we begin to take accountability for our circumstances.

"I Am Responsible for Everything"

Indian mystic Sadhguru's assertion that "I am responsible for everything" encapsulates a feeling I had struggled to articulate.

I’ve been involved in animal rescue throughout my life. I can’t walk past a struggling bug without intervening—an inclination inherited from my mother. We joke about it being a family trait.

When an animal my mother has rescued requires food or medication, I step in. The slight annoyance that the dog is her responsibility never bothers me. The dog needs assistance, and since I can help, it becomes my duty. It’s not about placing blame; it’s not my fault the animal was abandoned or mistreated.

However, I wouldn't have arrived at this realization through coercion. I know a community that embraces self-responsibility is achievable because I witness this mindset growing every day.

Countless individuals have begun helping animals simply because they were exposed to my rescues. I could never compel people to assist animals; doing so would breed resentment, and a society where animals are no longer in need of rescue would never emerge.

I am responsible for everything. No one can force this belief upon me; it must arise from my own voluntary actions.

Reaching this understanding is where we discover genuine freedom. It may seem counterintuitive initially, but when I recognize my responsibility for everything, only I hold the power to instigate change.

If I desire a better world, I need not rely on anyone else. I don’t need to resent those who disagree with me. I don’t have to wait for everyone to align with my views or for my side to win the next round of ideological tug-of-war.

And if I can do it with a broad smile while my astonished audience grapples with the truth, all the better. Chris Rock didn’t wait for someone else to voice what needed to be said; he took it upon himself, unafraid of the potential backlash.

This model of freedom might just be our salvation from ourselves.