Tolerate and be Tolerated

You’ve probably heard something like this before:

• “Don’t talk about so-and-so in front of me.”

• “I don’t want to hear anything that questions my beliefs.”

• “You can’t say that—it’s offensive.” 

We all have lines we don’t want crossed. That’s fair. Boundaries are important. But lately, it feels like personal preferences have become public commandments. Not just “please respect my space,” but “you’re a bad person if you don’t agree with my rules.” 

I can’t help but think: Is this what the Pharisees did? 

In religious texts, the Pharisees were the people who added layers and layers of rules, turning something meant to be freeing into something heavy and exhausting. They were more focused on keeping people in line than actually helping anyone. 

I’m not saying people today are quoting scripture at each other, but we do something similar. We throw rules into the room like grenades: 

• Don’t bring up that politician.

• Don’t question this narrative.

• Don’t say anything that makes me uncomfortable.

And when we do, we’re shunned. Cancelled. Labelled. Branded. 

What happened to live and let live?

Real tolerance isn’t agreeing with everyone. It’s not pretending we all think the same. It’s letting people be—even if they’re wrong, even if they push your buttons, even if they make you pause and think. 

We’re losing that. We’re replacing it with a culture where everyone has to tiptoe, where people talk in code, and where a single misstep means you’re done. 

We’ve gone from sharing space to shrinking it. From being honest to being afraid. 

The moment we start slapping labels on people—“ignorant,” “toxic,” “problematic”—we stop listening. We stop seeing people as people. We reduce them to a word and dismiss them. 

Some of us go even further: we tighten the noose. We hold people to an impossible standard. Say one wrong thing, and they’re hung out to dry. No conversation. No grace. Just judgment. 

It’s exhausting. It’s not kind. And it’s not working.

Let’s be honest. Some subjects make our skin crawl. We react. We get angry. Defensive. Hurt.

 

Why? Because it’s not just about the topic. It’s about what it touches in us.

 

1. It’s personal

Some things hit a nerve because they remind us of pain. Our past. Our upbringing. A wound we haven’t dealt with. When something feels personal, it’s easy to take it as an attack—even if it isn’t meant that way.

 

2. It challenges us

Sometimes we’re not as sure about our beliefs as we thought. A challenge feels like a threat. So we double down instead of admitting, “You’ve given me something to think about.”

 

3. It threatens our sense of identity

Beliefs have become identities. It’s not just what I believe—it’s who I am. So if you disagree with me, it feels like you’re rejecting me. That’s dangerous. It turns every disagreement into a battle.

 

4. It reminds us, we’re not in control

Some topics remind us we’re not in control. Injustice, grief, regret. It hits a place we don’t want to go.

 

These feelings are real. They’re human. They’re not shameful.

 

We can’t stop people from saying things we don’t like. But we can stop and ask ourselves: 

• What’s really going on inside me right now?

• Is this about what they said—or about something I haven’t dealt with?

• Can I be curious instead of just angry or hurt?

That kind of honesty isn’t easy. But it’s freeing. The more we understand what’s behind our reactions, the less we need to control everyone else just to feel okay.

 

 

 

Sway, Stretch, Adapt!

The oak fought the wind and was broken, the willow bent when it must and survived. ~ Robert Jordan

The hard truth about life is that it doesn’t care if you’re ready. It’ll huff, it’ll puff, and it’ll blow you down whether you’ve reinforced yourself with bricks of endurance or just slapped on some faith so that you don’t fall through the cracks. You can either stand like a stubborn old oak and snap under the pressure of every bad thing that happens, or you can bend like a palm tree and ride out the horribleness of it all.

I can’t talk for everyone, but I can look at my own reactions to hardship. I tend to make it harder on myself. I bulldoze over my own limits, ignore the flashing neon signs my body throws up, and then act surprised when I feel awful—physically. I know not every gut feeling is a wise old sage whispering secrets. Sometimes it’s just trauma or bad habits that die hard. But there’s still wisdom in listening to my body.

I’ve learnt that the whole “push through at all costs” mindset is a fast track to burnout. Yes, I break. Yes, I bend. But I’ve also learnt to extend. I’ve learnt to extend myself a little grace. I’ve learnt to extend my awareness past the need to just get through an upsetting experience and actually “experience” it head-on.

Life can’t be good all the time. If it were, we’d never grow. Instead of treating life like a battlefield where we’re either victorious or roadkill, maybe we should learn to move with it—sway, stretch, adapt. Because real strength is not just about standing tall. It’s knowing when to lean, when to flex, and when to throw our hands up, eat a chocolate, and try again tomorrow. 

Afterall… tomorrow is another day!  

Set the Bar Higher

When you set the bar too low—when you tell yourself that dreaming bigger is pointless—you’re basically rolling out the welcome mat for mediocrity. Maybe you think you’re being practical, avoiding disappointment, but let’s be honest: you’re selling yourself short. Worse, you might be relying only on your strength, measuring your potential by what you can do instead of what you can do with God. Going solo in life is like trying to assemble furniture without instructions. Frustrating.

Your mind is your only prison, and the only enemy is the part of you that refuses to be tamed—the doubt, the fear, the voice that tells you to play it safe. With faith as small as a mustard seed, you can move mountains. When you team up with God, doors open that you didn’t even know existed.

A good way to seize the day is to avoid settling. Instead of shrinking your goals to fit your fears, stretch beyond your comfort zone—way beyond—because that’s where real growth happens. That’s where faith is tested, courage is built, and transformation takes root. Set the bar higher than comfort and higher than reason. When faith gets involved, the impossible starts looking an awful lot like your next big challenge. And it’s not always about winning. It’s about learning how to live fully, in gratitude, while rising and staying above the muck and mire of the world.

The Good, the Bad, and the Grey In Between

I want to send a little apology to anyone who sees the world in black and white—because, let’s be honest, life is one giant grey area with a whole lot of messy in between. We all like to think we’re the good guys, the ones making the right choices, doing the best we can. But the truth is, without a little darkness, we wouldn’t appreciate the light. And without the light, we’d never see our own shadows creeping along behind us.

The biggest achievement in life is not perfection—it’s self-awareness. It’s about knowing who you are, quirks, flaws, bad hair days, and all. It’s about owning your mistakes, laughing at the ones that don’t sting too much, and learning from the ones that do. Sometimes, we’re the hero of the story, and other times, we’re the villain in someone else’s story. And that’s okay.

Life is like a game of darts. We aim for the target, the perfect bullseye, and half the time, we miss. Sometimes, we hit the wall instead. Because we’re imperfect, we’ll always fall short. In the end, what matters isn’t the miss, or the fall, or the failure; it’s the fact that we keep trying, adjusting, figuring things out as we go. Taking responsibility when we knock over the metaphorical beer on the counter, and celebrating the moments when we actually land a solid hit.

It’s not about having all the answers. It’s about being open, being real, and maybe, just maybe, having a little fun along the way.

I feel. Therefore I am.

Cogito, ergo sum—I think, therefore I am. (René Descartes)

We become what we think. We are what we think. Each statement is rooted in logic. There’s no denying the fact that we’re constantly thinking. 

Thoughts are fluid.

Thoughts come and go—some barely noticed, others lingering just long enough to spark a new thought. When we obsess, we hold on to certain thoughts and replay them over and over: worry, regret, excitement. And only we hold the power to give them weight and permanence. Thoughts that stay eventually shape and define us. 

I feel, therefore I am.

Today, I’d like to step away from the mind and talk about the heart. I feel, therefore I am. This statement isn’t grounded in logic or reason; it doesn’t try to prove anything. 

Feelings are less about understanding and more about experiencing. Feelings are raw, immediate, unfiltered. They don’t require any explanation. They just are. When we feel, we’re not just observing life—we’re living it. Whether it’s joy or sadness, hope or heartbreak, awe or anger, feelings pull us into the present in a way that thought cannot. 

Thinking questions. Feeling connects. Thought seeks answers. Feeling seeks meaning. And within meaning, there is richness of purpose. It’s not just about existing; it’s about truly being.

Does feeling define existence?

If feeling defines our existence, where does that leave those who feel less—or feel differently? What about someone who is emotionally numb, struggling with mental health? Or someone who doesn’t feel sympathy or empathy in the way we expect? Are they any less alive? The truth is, existence doesn’t depend on whether we feel deeply or rarely. It’s more complex than that.

Can we even separate thoughts and feelings?

Many feelings start in the mind—a memory that makes us cry, a thought that sparks anger, an idea that fills us with hope. Thought shapes feeling, just as feeling shapes thought. They’re tangled together in a way that makes it hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.

Feelings are powerful.

They shape how we act, how we connect, and how we experience life. But they’re not always reliable.

Learning to control our feelings is important. It’s not about learning to shut them down, but rather learning to guide them in a way that serves us. Anger, if left unchecked, can lead to actions we regret. Joy can blind us to risk. Sadness can trap us in dark places.

Feelings are good, but they can mislead us, overwhelm us, and even paralyze us.

Feelings are the colour of life.

Feelings don’t just help us connect to others—they connect us to ourselves. They remind us that we’re more than just minds in bodies. We’re whole beings—thinking, feeling, experiencing, struggling, and growing.

For those of us born with empathy, who feel the world’s weight as if it’s our own—yes, it can be exhausting. It can hurt. Sometimes it becomes too much. But that same empathy is a superpower. It’s what helps us understand people when no one else does. It’s what drives us to make the world softer, kinder, better.

Feelings enrich existence.

Rather than saying feelings define existence, we should say feelings enrich existence. Our feelings allow us to leave ripples in the lives of everyone we touch.

To feel deeply is both a blessing and a burden, but it’s always a gift. If we learn to use our feelings well, we will not only live fully, but also light the way for others to do the same.

The Muchness of Life

I love words. I always have. And today, I thought about one that no one uses: muchness. By definition, it means greatness in quantity or degree.

For me, it means the depth and intensity that defies containment – the essence of being profoundly alive in any moment, whether in pain or joy.

I can’t imagine there’s a single person on this gigantic blue ball who hasn’t, at one time or another, experienced muchness: the muchness of a mood, the muchness of a feeling, the muchness of an act, or the muchness of a person.

We know the muchness of a heavy heart – the overwhelming ache that pulls us deep within ourselves. And we know the muchness of joy – the kind that bursts forth, lifting us beyond ourselves. Both remind us that we’re fully, deeply alive.

Let’s embrace the muchness in our lives. When it’s negative, minimize it by focusing on the muchness of what’s positive. Let us always dare to feel, express, and live in all our muchness!

 

The Bare Necessities of Change

The Only Constant in Life

Heraclitus, the Greek philosopher, once said that change is the only constant in life. I never gave it much thought—until recently. Scrolling through Facebook, I came across a post about different life laws. One of them, the Law of Impermanence, stopped me in my tracks. I’ve always known change happens, but I had never considered it a fundamental rule of life.

The Comfort of Familiarity vs. the Push of Change

Like most people, I’m not the biggest fan of change. There’s something comforting about the familiar, the predictable. It feels safer when things stay the same. But, as we all know, life has a way of pushing us out of our comfort zones. And for me, it’s been a lot of moving – from town to town, house to house, school to school, job to job. The only thing that remained constant in all that change was my marriage and my family. And in a way, that made the other changes a bit easier to handle. Life’s changes make you face things head-on, and eventually, you have to accept that nothing stays the same forever.

Resilience in the Face of Change

Change is necessary because it teaches us resilience. The tough times, when life shifts under our feet, are when we learn who we really are. We find strength we didn’t know we had. We learn to bend without breaking. We discover how to keep moving forward, even when everything feels like it’s falling apart. It’s in those moments of change that we grow, both as individuals and as people who share similar experiences with others.

Unexpected Loss

I remember when my friend’s sister passed away unexpectedly. At the time, I couldn’t fully understand the depth of her grief. I hadn’t faced that kind of loss in years. Then, a few years later, my brother died suddenly. It shook me to my core. And all I could think about was how my friend had suffered, how she had found a way through it. It gave me some comfort knowing that I wasn’t alone – that others, too, face loss and come out the other side.

Gratitude in the Midst of Change

While loss is painful, it’s also a reminder to appreciate the small things. The Law of Impermanence helps us see that everything, even the hard moments, is temporary. And if we can embrace that, we start to appreciate the present more. It’s those little moments – like a quiet morning with coffee or a smile from someone we love – that truly matter. Everything is fleeting, so we should cherish it while we have it.

The Peace of Gratitude

But gratitude doesn’t just appear overnight. It takes time, and it often comes through personal experience – the kind of experiences where we lose something or someone. But once we start to carry gratitude with us, we find a quiet peace. Knowing that nothing lasts forever, we can be present and grateful for what we have right now.

Growth Through Change

And then there’s the growth that comes with impermanence. Change pushes us to grow, to become better versions of ourselves. Life throws challenges and surprises our way, and each one shapes who we are. It’s so easy to resist change, to cling to what we know, but if we let go a little, we open ourselves up to life in ways we never imagined. Every change, every new experience, is an opportunity to learn and evolve.

Finding Spiritual Meaning in Impermanence

On a deeper level, impermanence brings a spiritual dimension. When we understand that everything in the material world is fleeting, we start searching for something more lasting. For me, that’s meant diving deeper into my spiritual side and looking for meaning beyond the daily grind. It’s helped me focus on what really matters – nurturing relationships, being present, and living in a way that aligns with my true self. The Law of Impermanence leads us towards a richer, more fulfilling life.

Navigating Change Together

And here’s what I’ve come to realize: We’re all navigating change together. Yes, our experiences are unique, and we each handle change in our own way. But at the end of the day, we’re all going through it. Whether it’s the loss of a loved one, a career shift, or personal growth, change connects us. It reminds us that we’re not alone in our journeys.

Embracing the Law of Impermanence

If you’re like me and struggle with change, I get it. I’m not here to offer advice on how to embrace it. Truth is, I’ll probably never enjoy change. But what I do know is that the Law of Impermanence isn’t something to fear. It’s a guide that helps us grow, understand ourselves and others better, and ultimately find fulfillment. When we accept that change is a part of life, we can face it with a little more grace and a little more hope for the future.