Weekly Reset: Cross the Aisle
Your enemy isn't your neighbor.
"How do we generate compassion? We begin by contemplating the difficulties of others, and then we put ourselves in their shoes.”
— Chagdud Tulku Rinpoche
Division.
Unrest.
Anger.
Fear.
These emotions swirl around us.
Every day.
Every hour.
What feels like every second.
Those in power often encourage it,
thriving in the chaos.
We hear we can’t get along.
Can’t communicate.
Can’t compromise.
But I’d like to gently challenge this assumption.
We have evolved to cooperate.
To share.
To build.
What we see today is manufactured.
It isn’t our natural state.
It’s a designed scarcity of goodwill.
But how do we get from here
to a place of cooperation?
Of community?
Of belonging?
Unwelcome Truths
Modern society has been shaped by forces
that distort our view of the world.
Isolating us while giving us
faux-connection.
Faux-community.
Faux-humanity.
This isolation makes us forget
how to speak to each other.
How to empathize.
Seeing a randomized name
yelling at the world online
makes it easier to yell back.
It removes a crucial barrier,
the one that prevents the worst of ourselves
from rearing its head:
our shared humanity.
We’re not designed to handle
thousands of digital "friendships."
Our capacity for true community,
for deep connection,
is much closer to 150 people.
The current design is antithetical
to the wisdom of the world,
to generations of evolutionary history
that say we need each other.
This digital distortion
often leads us to find only people
we already agree with.
Amplifying our beliefs.
Hardening our perspectives.
Leading to extremism.
How do we return?
How do we embrace our place in the circle?
Cross.
The.
Aisle.
Crossing the Aisle
Honest, respectful debate,
grounded in giving others the benefit of the doubt—
that is a key to returning to our roots.
We must learn to disagree,
without becoming enemies.
We must learn to compromise on what doesn’t truly matter,
but stand firm on what matters most.
Not on your integrity.
Not on human dignity.
But on the small things—
preferences,
not principles.
It requires being uncomfortable.
Being afraid, perhaps.
But doing the hard, necessary work anyway.
It requires seeing the other person as human,
heavily flawed, just like us,
but worthy of love and respect all the same.
There are things worth fighting for:
Empathy.
Equality.
Equity.
Justice.
But most daily arguments are not that.
For the majority of our disagreements,
when examined truthfully,
honestly,
there is often no single "right" answer,
and the outcome doesn't truly change our lives.
So instead of defaulting to anger at someone,
consider the events of their life
that molded their thinking.
Then look at them with compassion,
and love them, even when it's hard.
Especially when it's hard.
Try This: Building a Bridge
This week, the invitation is to practice
the quiet, courageous act of "crossing the aisle"
in your own life.
Find a Small Disagreement:
It doesn't have to be political.
It could be with a colleague,
a friend,
or a family member about something minor.
Notice the moment you feel
yourself digging in, preparing for battle.
Pause and Zoom Out:
Pause.
Breathe.
Ask yourself:
Is this truly one of the big things
worth fighting for?
Or is it one of the "most things in life"
that don't actually matter in the grand scheme?
Get Curious, Not Furious:
Instead of preparing your counter-argument,
get curious.
Ask a genuine question to understand
why they feel that way.
Try to see the world through their lens,
just for a moment.
("Help me understand your perspective on this.")
Find One Point of Connection:
You don't have to agree with
their conclusion to find one small thing
you can agree with—
a shared value,
a common feeling,
a mutual desire.
("It sounds like we both want what's best,
we just see different ways of getting there.")
This isn't about giving up your principles.
It's about choosing connection over conflict
wherever possible.
It's a practice of fierce love.
Mending Our World
This work is not easy.
It is, perhaps,
the hardest work there is.
To look past the noise,
the manufactured anger,
the fear,
and see the human being on the other side.
It's the work of mending our world,
one conversation,
one open heart,
at a time.
It is how we remember
that we already belong
to each other.
How we find our way back
to harmony.
To ourselves.