The Certainty Trap

There’s a lion lurking in the darkness and we’re all freaking out about it! Nobody actually knows where the lion is. It is sure to get somebody, but now that everyone thinks it’s their nearest neighbor, we’re all hunting each other down and creating a far greater problem.

   This came to me our last time out in the wilderness. If evil has an instrument, it is certainty. Nothing divides better than the feeling of being unquestionably right.

   In the forest, I realized two perspectives. One spread outward in branches, rooted to a common center, messy and many-limbed, like humanity. Difference without disconnection.

   The other view was that of categories. Labels, boxes, and arbitrary designations that mean this person or those people or those who act in such a way do so because they are x, y, or z. 

   All such things which fill us make room for less openness, love, and acceptance. Concepts do not mean understanding, but understanding means empathy. 

   Pick a side. Draw conclusions. Decide who is good and who is bad. With every conclusion, there’s less room for people not like yourself.

   The forest is hard to face. I don’t even like talking about good and bad. It feels too simple, so crude. But I continue trying to express our position more clearly. More than anyone is evil, they are convinced.

   And in case history hasn’t already made us aware, fighting isn’t the cure. We keep losing ourselves trying to win.

   Change the inside, change the outside isn’t a slogan. If the inside doesn’t soften, the outside never will. That’s how people end up killing each other while thinking they’re justified.

   So we try to accept what comes our way. Whoever shows up. As they are.

   Our one exception is harm happening right in front of us. If we can physically reach it there in the moment, it might be ethical that we step in. It might be imperative that we don’t! 

   I don’t know enough, nor am I attached enough to pursue my will of things. I can observe and move on, or observe and act (only with extraordinary evidence, and only when it presents itself plainly).

   I don’t have to act with righteous indignation or anger. I can act presently, without compulsion, repulsion, or emotional compromise.

   The mountain lion might be out there, but we can all still have a good time around the fire.