Why don't people like you?
Oh, yes, give me all your assumptions, your stereotypes, your opinions which you have formed in five seconds. Oh, wait, don't. I am interested in human interaction, not in useless banter, not in “I have a right to spew nonsense”. I don't give people “opinions” on them. Because I don't have opinions of them, usually. Because I haven't received enough data on them. And if I do happen to start thinking something about a person – it is often trauma speaking. Trauma loves to rely on stereotypes. Trauma is amazing at insulting everyone and everything. Trauma voice learns to protect you – but in ways that consider no one else, but you. And you know what kind of protection this is? Maladaptive. You feel further away from others when you are surrounded by stereotypes, when you have a label for everyone who ever crosses your path. You may feel separated, alone, frustrated – you, a complex human being, encircled by paper people, all of their steps predictable by your all-knowing brain. Oh, wait, they do something out of character? Now you are even more frustrated, bewildered: why, why are people not like you? Why don't people like you? Well, perhaps, you have to start examining the evidence. The easiest is to start with oneself. What do you know about yourself? Where does this information come from? Childhood, adolescence? Who shaped your perception of yourself? What scared you before? What scares you now? If you honestly partake in the process of learning yourself, slowly, very slowly, you will begin to see how the tangle of incomprehensible bits and pieces unravel – and perhaps, one day, you'll see with the eyes less clouded. It is a ton of work, though, and you have to engage in honest analysis of oneself. It is much easier to keep spewing nonsense at strangers, it is easier to keep your narrow definition of everything. But don't be surprised if loneliness knocks at your door. Don't be surprised to be wrong. Don't be surprised to be disliked. Or, maybe, try learning?.. Learning the complexity of the world, all the intricate nuance of the ever-changing, always evolving living beings, that cannot be sliced thinly enough to examine them closely enough. Understand that to understand the human world, you have to let it be, outside of yourself, outside of the universe that has formed in your childhood, that was meant to be easy to digest and predictable. Understand that to accept other human beings, you have to accept them whole – and see that their whole are inseparably intertwined with the complexities of the world around them. You cannot untangle the mystery of humans, of the world, but you can become one with them – by seeing that you, yourself, are a product of so many little incidents, so many coincidents, so many chances have met in your being alone. And in this complexity a paradox arises – the more you see the nuance, the more you see the simplicity. The unity, the wholeness that has always been there, not some ominous spirit, or an indifferent energy, but the collection of the myriad of molecules, always moving, always rearranging themselves; and in this dance of microparticles, we are all stuck, alone and together, so complex, yet so simple. Connect with yourself, honestly ask yourself, and give an honest answer. And in this honesty you'll see, most likely, surprisingly, a lack of violence, a lack of desire to control and manipulate, and an ability to adapt, change, together with the tides of the waves of history – let yourself, firmly, but gently, be moved, and move them yourself – the movement is never yours alone, but ours. In our collective stirring, we humans, have performed amazing feats of wisdom, courage, innovation, we have changed, and changed the world around us. But before we all see the unity of our opposites, before we all acknowledge that our only constant is change, we will forever separate, forever vibrate in a rhyme that is distractive, to ourselves, first and foremost.