What happens if we resign from the argument? If we do, we would have to face the fear that the world will go to hell. Doing so, we would come face-to-face with the reality of what we fear. We would find out whether our exhausting vigilance is required to keep the world on track.

For some that is too much to ask. What if it isn’t fear but the truth — the world actually will continue its downward spiral into hatred and division, murder and mayhem, prison camps and death marches.?

That is possible. That’s why many will not be able to stop. This is not an easy ask.

When you look at it closely you can see that the arguments, the judgement, what the mind calls discernment so it sounds better, adds to the division, murders the love between friends and family, and rather than standing for all others in love, marches off the cliff of death.

So do we do nothing? Do we stand by and watch as the world burns? If, both sides of the argument could it would be the end of the divisiveness and that alone would smother the flames. If only one side of the argument stands down it will be the same — just a bit slower — and there’s the fear again.

When an attack is met without attack it falls flat. Without push back the force of anger and misplaced righteousness has no where to go, nothing to push back against, so it ultimately fizzles. Bring both of your hands together as in prayer and push hard, one against the other. Now stop pushing with one hand and remove it from its positionality altogether. The competition stops. It is the law of non-violence, the truth of Aikido, the martial art of peacefulness within. It deflects and deflates the spear of outrage with its willingness to be as one is rather than compete.

What is needed? What is the fear? How do we come together to offer the remedy? If someone attacks it is so easy to, nearly automatic to, react with equal force and if instead of attacking the person we stand right in the middle of what we care about, what we support, the outcome no longer held solid by our resistance, shifts.

What if instead of engaging the storm of criticism, we calmly and compassionately say what we actually care about, what it is that moves us? For me it would sound like this. I care about all people, their exquisite experience of life, knowing it is perfect for them. I care about people of all colors. I love the chaos of diversity, the richness it adds to my life. I care about children, all the children, yes … even those in utero. I care that these little beloved have happy childhoods free of fear. I care that their mothers and fathers have the resources to care for them without worry and constant juggling so they can model peace within and without. I care about democracy, our right to vote — red , blue or purple. I care about a healthy planet and its ability to nurture healthy people. I care about my freedom and yours to express love and to care about each other. I care that we live free of life’s unnecessary anxiety, open to our precious ability to feel, so we are all able to find the way to express greater and greater love.

And … stop there, stop with what we stand for, stop with our love.

Perhaps if we did we might hear the truth behind the anger and hatred — the fear — what the other side cares about that is hidden from our view.

What if instead of reinforcing the mirror of divisiveness we shatter it forever, or better yet, project one back of unconditional love.

Stopping. Acceptance of what is releases the strong ties that hold opinion in place, allowing a loosening of rigidity. The old truth, what we resist persists is more true that most realize. We don’t change people. Our experiences change us all. What will that experience be? One of rejection, of reinforcing unworthiness or one of caring, of healing the damage already done by this divided world? The outcome will grow out of our response.

“Anytime you resist reality you are instantly in opposition to your immense, expansive self. That’s why resistance feels so incredibly wrong. In effect, you are being aggressive to your breathtakingly beautiful self, attempting to dwarf that which cannot be diminished.” Card #11, The Expanse — The Wild Child