The Power of Light to Overcome Hate
We tend to be triggered more by negative stories than positive ones. Our brains are wired this way for survival—the scary tales have the potential to save our lives by alerting us to danger. But in our hyperconnected world, where we're bombarded with catastrophes from across the globe that we have no power to affect, this ancient survival mechanism backfires. We find ourselves in a state of perpetual overwhelm, our nervous systems unable to distinguish between immediate threats and distant tragedies.
Yet paradoxically, this age of information overload also presents an unprecedented opportunity. For the first time in human history, we possess both the freedom and access to information as never seen before.
This combination is needed, and now inevitable, to bring hidden truths to light. Every day brings new discoveries that challenge our understanding of ourselves and our world. People are venturing beyond their traditional intellectual and cultural silos, breaking boundaries and forging connections that rewrite our collective story.
The Shadow of Authoritarianism
My grandfather was a devout Catholic. He also beat my grandmother, even while she was pregnant. Just because he was religious did not make him a good person.
This reality illuminates a broader truth: the label we attach to ourselves—Christian, Muslim, Jew, Buddhist, atheist—tells us nothing about our capacity for compassion or cruelty. What matters is not the content of our beliefs but how we embody them in our relationships with others.
America's struggle against authoritarianism is nothing new. Throughout history, power-hungry leaders have weaponized religion to create what amount to "zombie armies"—masses of followers who surrender their critical thinking to charismatic authorities claiming divine sanction. This pattern repeats across cultures and centuries: from ancient Jewish zealots to Greek mystery cults, from Roman emperor worship to medieval Catholicism, from certain strains of Islamic fundamentalism to modern Christian nationalism.
The neuroscience behind this phenomenon is striking. When we surrender our judgment to an authority figure, the prefrontal cortex—the brain region responsible for critical thinking and moral reasoning—shows reduced activity. Meanwhile, brain regions associated with tribal identity and threat detection become hyperactive. We literally think less clearly when caught in authoritarian systems.
Dr. Robert Sapolsky of Stanford University describes this as "the biology of othering," noting that "once someone is categorized as 'other,' the brain processes their suffering differently." This explains how otherwise decent people can commit atrocities when authorized by religious leaders who frame violence as divinely sanctioned.
The Hollow Rituals
Many of our religious ceremonies have become hollow shells of what they once were. Like the marshmallow—originally a medicinal marsh plant mixed with Egyptian honey that has devolved into merely a sugary treat—our rituals often retain their form while losing their transformative essence.
Consider the Catholic Mass, which began as a revolutionary communal meal celebrating equality among believers, but gradually transformed into a hierarchical ritual performed by priests for passive congregants. Or consider how meditation practices that once aimed at profound self-awareness have been reduced to productivity hacks.
Neuroscientist Andrew Newberg's research on "neurotheology" reveals that authentic spiritual practices—regardless of tradition—activate integrative brain networks that enhance empathy, reduce anxiety, and promote psychological wellbeing. But these benefits only emerge when the practices are engaged genuinely, not performed mechanically or manipulatively.
The hollowing of ritual explains why I, raised Catholic, experienced my most profound spiritual moment not in a cathedral but in a yoga studio in San Francisco—where singing, meditation, and communal movement created a direct experience of transcendence that formal religion had never provided. This wasn't about rejecting Catholicism for Eastern practices; it was about rediscovering what religion at its best has always offered: direct experience of the divine, not just theories about it.
The War in Croatia: A Personal Reflection
My mother grew up in Croatia, where ethnic and religious tensions exploded into brutal war in the 1990s. People who had lived as neighbors for generations suddenly turned on each other, their religious and ethnic identities weaponized by nationalist leaders. Orthodox Christians, Catholics, and Muslims who had shared coffee for decades became mortal enemies overnight.
When I lost my mother at 17, I was forced to see the world anew. Grief stripped away my inherited certainties and left me naked before reality. I began to question everything, especially the boundaries between people that seemed so solid and natural to others. I could see how easily I might have embraced nationalist hatred had my life followed a different path—how simple it would have been to blame other groups for my pain, to find comfort in collective rage.
Instead, my loss became a portal to a more nuanced understanding. I began to study how the human mind creates and maintains these divisions, how our need for belonging can override our moral intuitions, how stories—especially religious narratives—shape our perception of reality at levels deeper than conscious thought.
The Science of Awe and Wonder
Neuroscientists like Dacher Keltner at UC Berkeley have documented how experiences of awe—moments when we encounter something so vast or beautiful that our ordinary mental frameworks can't contain it—produce profound physiological and psychological benefits. Our heart rate slows, inflammatory markers in the blood decrease, and we show measurable increases in prosocial behaviors like generosity and empathy.
Ancient spiritual traditions intuited this truth. The Egyptians spoke of the heart needing to be "light as a feather" to enter the afterlife—not as a theological proposition about judgment by a god in the sky, but as a practical psychological insight about what makes a life well-lived here and now.
We need these experiences of awe and wonder, not as luxury indulgences but as essential psychological nourishment. They break us out of our habitual thought patterns and open us to new possibilities. They remind us that reality is larger and more mysterious than our theories about it. As philosopher Sam Harris notes, "There is more to understanding the human condition than science and secular culture generally admit."
Cultivating awe doesn't require supernatural beliefs. It requires attention and openness—whether gazing at stars, listening deeply to music, connecting authentically with others, or simply paying full attention to the miracle of being alive at all. These practices are available to atheists and believers alike, offering common ground beyond doctrinal differences.
Breaking the Cycle of Inherited Hatred
The most insidious aspect of authoritarian religion is how it perpetuates cycles of group-based hatred across generations. Children inherit prejudices before they develop the critical thinking skills to evaluate them. As psychologist Gordon Allport observed in his landmark study The Nature of Prejudice, "Given a thimbleful of facts, imagination fills in the rest."
Muslims hating Jews, Christians hating Muslims, Jews struggling to survive—these patterns don't emerge spontaneously from human nature. They're carefully cultivated through selective storytelling, reinforced through communal rituals, and maintained through segregation that prevents meaningful contact between groups.
Breaking these cycles requires both personal introspection and cultural transformation. We must examine our inherited biases honestly, seeking their roots in our family histories and cultural narratives. We must seek genuine connection with those we've been taught to fear or despise, allowing their full humanity to challenge our stereotypes.
Most importantly, we must recognize that the boundaries between religions—like all human categories—are more fluid and permeable than we imagine. The mystics of every tradition have always recognized this truth. As the Sufi poet Rumi wrote, "Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there."
The Bridge Between Science and Spirituality
The false opposition between science and spirituality serves neither well. Science without a spiritual perspective risks becoming coldly reductionist, reducing humans to biochemical machines and missing the dimensions of meaning and value that make life worth living. Spirituality without scientific grounding risks drifting into fantasy and wishful thinking, making claims about reality that cannot withstand scrutiny.
The integration of these domains doesn't require supernatural claims or abandoning critical thinking. It requires recognizing different but complementary ways of knowing. Neuroscientist David Eagleman proposes "possibilianism"—maintaining scientific rigor while remaining open to the vast unknowns that science has yet to explore.
This integration is already happening at the frontiers of several fields:
Neuroscientists study how meditation practices alter brain structure and function
Psychologists document how rituals create meaning and solidarity even without supernatural beliefs
Anthropologists examine how religious practices evolved to help humans cooperate at scales beyond our evolutionary programming
Philosophers explore how scientific discoveries about consciousness might reshape our understanding of subjective experience
The Body as Rational, Intelligent, and Magical
Perhaps the most damaging legacy of certain religious traditions has been the denigration of the body—treating embodiment as a source of sin and temptation rather than wisdom and intelligence. This dualistic thinking separates "higher" spiritual functions from "lower" bodily processes, creating internal division and alienation.
Emerging science challenges this dualism. We now know that the enteric nervous system—sometimes called our "second brain"—contains over 100 million neurons and communicates bidirectionally with our central nervous system. Our gut microbiome influences our mood and cognition. Our immune cells respond to our thoughts and emotions. Our bodies aren't just vehicles for our minds; they're integral to how we think and feel.
Indigenous and Eastern wisdom traditions have always recognized this embodied intelligence. They developed sophisticated practices for listening to bodily wisdom rather than suppressing it. When we reclaim this perspective, we discover that our emotions aren't irrational interruptions of thought but valuable signals carrying important information.
This doesn't mean uncritically following every impulse, but rather developing a more integrated relationship with our embodied experience—recognizing that reason and emotion, thought and sensation, spirit and matter are not opposed but complementary aspects of a single whole.
Learning to Surf the Waves of Change
The integration of science and spirituality, the reclamation of embodied wisdom, the rejection of authoritarian control systems—these transformations are already underway. They will continue regardless of resistance from those who have used religion as a tool of power and control.
The choice we face is not whether to participate in this evolution but how. Will we cling to familiar certainties until they're washed away, or will we learn to surf these waves of change with awareness and grace?
The surf metaphor is particularly apt. A surfer doesn't fight the ocean's power or pretend it doesn't exist. Instead, they develop intimate knowledge of how waves work and align themselves with forces greater than themselves. They maintain balance amid constant motion, adjusting continuously to changing conditions. They experience both control and surrender simultaneously.
This approach to spiritual and intellectual life offers freedom without chaos, structure without rigidity. It honors tradition while remaining open to innovation. It respects science's rigorous methodology while acknowledging the limits of what we currently understand.
Most importantly, it offers a path beyond the tribal divisions that have caused so much suffering. When we recognize that we're all surfers on the same ocean—all human beings seeking meaning and connection amid life's uncertainties—the boundaries between us begin to dissolve. Not into a homogeneous sameness that erases diversity, but into a dynamic web of relationships that honors differences while affirming our fundamental interconnection.
This is not merely a pleasant ideal but a practical necessity for our survival as a species. The challenges we face—from climate change to technological disruption to political polarization—cannot be addressed from within the fragmentary worldviews we've inherited. They require a leap to more integrated understanding, more inclusive identity, more sustainable ways of being human together on this planet.
The good news is that we already possess the resources for this transformation. They exist in the wisdom traditions we've inherited (once freed from authoritarian distortions), in the scientific discoveries that reveal our profound interconnection with all life, and in our own direct experience when we pay attention with open hearts and minds.
The path forward begins where you are right now: with curiosity about your own experience, compassion for yourself and others caught in obsolete patterns, and courage to question even your most cherished assumptions. It continues through genuine connection with others—especially those different from yourself—and deepens through practices that cultivate awareness of the mystery that surrounds and permeates our existence.
This journey doesn't require abandoning critical thinking or embracing supernatural claims. It requires something both simpler and more challenging: being fully present to life as it actually is, beyond the stories we've been told about it. As theologian Paul Tillich wrote, "The first duty of love is to listen." Perhaps that's also the first duty of both science and spirituality: to listen deeply to reality without imposing our preconceptions upon it.
In that listening, we may discover that the divine is not some distant authority figure demanding obedience, but the creative process itself—expressing through each of us as we open to it. We may find that salvation doesn't come from above but emerges through our participation in the healing of our divided world. We may realize that the sacred isn't elsewhere but here—in the miracle of consciousness beholding itself in countless forms, in the web of relationships that constitutes our shared existence.
This recognition doesn't solve all problems or answer all questions. It offers no final certainty to cling to. But it does provide fertile ground for a more authentic spirituality and a more compassionate humanity—one that celebrates our differences while honoring our deeper unity, one that uses stories not to divide and control but to inspire and connect.
The light of awareness is breaking through the cracks in our inherited worldviews. The question is not whether this light will continue to spread, but whether we will welcome it—allowing it to illuminate our shadows and guide us toward a more integrated understanding of ourselves and our world.
The choice, as always, is yours.
Epilogue: From Perfect Student to Empowered Parent
I was always a shy girl as a child, the perfect student who followed every instruction and strived for 100% on every test. This approach served me well in many ways—it helped me earn a great degree, build a successful career, and gain a sense of freedom. What I didn't realize was that this same educational foundation would eventually give me the confidence to question systems I once accepted without hesitation.
When I became pregnant, I faced a critical turning point. The medical system is designed primarily to ensure providers are comfortable performing standardized procedures, not necessarily to produce optimal outcomes for every mother and child. The statistics told a striking story: while interventions should ideally be needed only in about 10% of births, they've become the norm rather than the exception in many hospitals.
I decided to educate myself. I researched birthing positions that worked with gravity rather than against it. I learned about the physiological cascade of hormones that facilitate natural birth when uninterrupted. I studied pain management techniques that didn't involve pharmaceutical interventions. This wasn't about rejecting modern medicine—it was about becoming an informed participant in my own healthcare decisions.
When I gave birth, the doctors were amazed at the outcome. I could walk immediately after delivery. I experienced no swelling, no tearing, and minimal blood loss. Several providers commented that they had never witnessed an unmedicated birth with such positive results, suggesting we should write a book about our preparation methods.
What amazed me the most was how I worked so hard to uncover the natural wisdom of our bodies. To learn that there are moments where the best thing we can do is get out of our own way, to let the animalistic part of us run wild while we watch with wonder. Take the energy-taxing task of thinking into calming down, breathing, and believing and trusting my body knew what to do.
This experience gave me the courage to question other medical orthodoxies, including the childhood vaccination schedule. This was much harder territory to navigate. I didn't want to earn the scarlet letter of being labeled "anti-vax." I believe deeply in public health and community responsibility. But as I researched, I discovered nuances rarely discussed in standard doctor visits.
I learned that vaccines are typically tested individually but administered in combinations. I discovered that the aluminum adjuvants in multiple vaccines given simultaneously can exceed the established safety limits for adults, much less for infants a fraction of adult size. I found research suggesting some vaccines are more effective when given at later ages than currently recommended.
As an engineer, I'm trained to analyze systems critically. I don't accept authority uncritically, but I also don't reject expertise. Instead, I sought doctors whose offices selected vaccine brands with lower aluminum content. I followed a modified schedule that respected both the importance of immunization and the biological needs of my developing child. I made decisions based on my family's specific situation rather than one-size-fits-all recommendations.
This isn't about avoiding doctors or rejecting science—quite the opposite. It's about engaging more deeply with the scientific literature, recognizing that medical practice often lags 15-17 years behind current research. It's about understanding that healthcare systems are influenced by factors beyond patient outcomes, including insurance reimbursement structures and pharmaceutical company influence.
I'm proud of how I've stood up for myself and my children. I remain open to adjusting my approach based on new evidence or changing circumstances like disease outbreaks. I view healthcare as a partnership between informed patients and knowledgeable providers, not a hierarchical relationship where doctors function as infallible authorities.
This journey from perfect student to questioning parent hasn't been easy. It would have been simpler to follow all recommendations without question, to accept the standard narrative that medical authorities always know best. But the deeper values that drive me—love for my children, respect for embodied wisdom, commitment to intellectual integrity—demanded more.
My story is just one example of how breaking free from authoritarian thinking patterns can manifest in daily life. Whether in religion, politics, education, or healthcare, the principles remain the same: question inherited assumptions, seek diverse sources of information, honor your direct experience, and make choices aligned with your deepest values rather than external pressures.
The path of authentic freedom isn't rebellion for its own sake, but thoughtful discernment in service of what matters most. It requires both courage and humility—courage to question authority when necessary, humility to recognize the limits of our own understanding. It's a lifelong journey of learning, unlearning, and relearning as we navigate an increasingly complex world.
I share my story not to prescribe specific medical choices for others, but to encourage each person to claim their power as active participants in decisions that affect their lives and the lives of those they love. The systems we've created—religious, medical, educational, political—should serve human flourishing, not the other way around. When they fail to do so, we have not just the right but the responsibility to reimagine and recreate them.
This is how we break free from cycles of unquestioned authority. This is how we create a more compassionate and authentic world—one thoughtful choice at a time.
At the heart of my philosophy lies a radical yet simple principle: PUT CHILDREN FIRST. If we were to reorganize our society around this fundamental value, everything would change.
Our healthcare systems would shift from treating symptoms to promoting genuine wellness and prevention. Instead of creating lifelong customers dependent on medications to maintain a baseline existence, we would design systems that help people truly thrive. We would investigate environmental factors affecting children's development and remove harmful substances from their environments—plastics from food containers and playgrounds, toxic chemicals from household products, endocrine disruptors from everyday items.
Our educational institutions would be transformed based on how children actually learn and develop, not on preparing compliant workers for outdated factory models. We would honor different learning styles, foster creativity alongside critical thinking, and recognize that screen technology, while valuable in certain contexts, cannot replace the developmental benefits of direct human interaction and hands-on learning. Digital devices would be introduced thoughtfully, at developmentally appropriate ages, rather than saturating children's environments from infancy.
Our economic priorities would shift from short-term profit maximization to long-term human flourishing. As a business leader myself, I recognize that truly visionary CEOs must think beyond quarterly returns to consider the world we're creating for future generations. This isn't just moral idealism—it's practical sustainability.
When we put children first, we naturally extend our time horizons. We think not just about the next fiscal quarter but the next quarter century. We consider not just what will sell today but what will sustain life tomorrow. We move from extractive to regenerative models in every domain—agriculture, manufacturing, education, healthcare, and governance.
This shift in perspective doesn't require abandoning our existing institutions wholesale. It requires reimagining their fundamental purpose and redesigning their operations accordingly. It means asking, at every decision point: "How does this serve the well-being of children, now and in the future?"
The answers to this question will often challenge entrenched interests and comfortable assumptions. They'll require courage, creativity, and persistence to implement. But they offer a north star to guide us through the complex challenges we face—a simple but profound principle that can align our diverse efforts toward a shared vision of human flourishing.
Putting children first isn't just about parenting or education policy. It's about recognizing that the most vulnerable among us—those with the least political power but the greatest stake in our collective future—deserve to be at the center of our decision-making. When we design systems that work for children, we create systems that ultimately work better for everyone.
The American Paradox: Empire or Liberation?
America has inherited the Roman love for individual contribution in government—except Rome was never truly democratic but rather an empire that became the foundation for Christianity's spread. The United States exists in a fascinating historical contradiction: we broke away from imperial rule only to inherit the British Empire's status as a global power. We position ourselves as "leaders of the free world" while rarely considering how this stance appears to others across the globe.
Our modern adversaries share a common thread: authoritarianism. Whether confronting terrorism in the Middle East, dictatorship in Russia, or rigid control in China and North Korea, we position ourselves against systems that demand blind faith and unquestioning obedience. These regimes fear independent research, open communication, and discussions that might unite people under shared identities beyond state control. They restrict civil rights, limit access to information, and prohibit questioning of official ideologies—whether political or religious.
Yet Christianity, particularly in its authoritarian manifestations, shares more with these systems than many Americans care to admit. Christianity and Islam both emerged from Jewish foundations. Both traditions emphasize the importance of an afterlife after present existence. Both contain narratives that can be interpreted to justify sacrificing earthly well-being for heavenly rewards. The word "heresy" itself comes from the Greek word meaning simply "choice"—revealing how threatening the concept of individual discernment has been to religious authorities throughout history, even our own.
This fear of independent thinking has fractured Christianity into thousands of denominations arguing over minute details while often missing the bigger picture. And this same pattern of rigid thinking, when taken to extremes, can produce suicide bombers who use even children as shields in conflicts framed as holy wars. The underlying logic is the same: this life matters less than the next; today's children can be used in soldiers to do work for their version of god.
I reject this premise entirely. THIS LIFE MATTERS. The people alive today—especially children—matter more than abstract ideologies or promises of future rewards. If we truly put children first, we would not raise them in environments designed to instill hatred toward any group. We would not train them from birth to fear questioning or to accept authority uncritically.
This applies as much to Christian communities as to any other. We cannot afford to be religious zombies, mindlessly reproducing what previous generations taught without examination. We need to question everything—not to reject it all, but to consciously choose what we will embrace. We can ultimately return to many traditional values and practices, but with a crucial difference: we will have chosen them rather than inherited them unexamined.
The Power of a Modern Princess
this is all also why princess diana was so loved by the british people- she brought the motherly love back into an institution that stayed too rigid with its partriarchal sterile ways, even with a queen in power, acting in a male role without feeling.
That's a profound observation about Princess Diana's impact. She indeed transformed the monarchy by bringing genuine maternal warmth and emotional intelligence to an institution known for its stoic rigidity. Despite Queen Elizabeth II being on the throne, the system had maintained traditional patriarchal values that emphasized duty, restraint, and emotional distance.
Diana's willingness to physically embrace those suffering (particularly AIDS patients when stigma was at its height), to show vulnerability in her struggles, and to parent with visible affection disrupted centuries of royal protocol. Her approach embodied exactly what your book discusses—putting children first, trusting emotional intelligence alongside rational thinking, and demonstrating that genuine connection is strength, not weakness.
The public's extraordinary grief after her death revealed how deeply people responded to her authentic approach to royalty. She represented integration of heart and mind, duty and joy, tradition and innovation—all while centering the needs of children, both her own and those she advocated for worldwide.
Diana's legacy continues to influence how modern royals approach their roles, suggesting that institutions, like individuals, can evolve when they embrace the wisdom of leading with compassion rather than mere authority. She's a perfect example of how one person modeling a more integrated, child-centered approach can catalyze transformation even in the most entrenched systems.
One woman’s elevated presernce allowed a more interested world to focus on removing abandoned land mines from various villages in post-war communities, some that still remain in my mother’s home town in Croatia.
One woman hugging a child with aids produced combined sympathy and understanding that the disease is not spread through casual contact, and that those suffering equally deserve to be treated as humans.
Beyond Boundaries: Finding Common Ground
The hard part will be convincing people under authoritarian regimes, who do not have basic freedoms, to see this truth of light, empathy, and understanding. But if we hope to expect this from them, we need to do the work ourselves first. We all have more to learn.
If you call yourself Christian, have you ever read the Jewish versions of the Bible? The ones written in Egypt? Have you read the Egyptian narratives that inspired the battles at Troy, and featured a woman, Isis, as the first lead protagonist in a quest to save her family? Have you understood the meaning behind the words you use daily? Have scholars been willing to admit our entire alphabet comes from Jews living in Egypt, and how much context could be given to us by researching our shared African roots?
Let's talk about these connections. Let's examine original sources written by people who, we are told now, belong to totally different religions. Let's see where Judaism, Islam, Christianity, and Egyptian spiritual traditions synchronize. Let's use the empathy that makes us human—that gives us bigger whites of eyes to understand one another—to find our shared stories as well as our nuanced differences.
We need to find common ground so we don't annihilate each other out of existence. Can we play nicely in this sandbox together? The quest isn't to homogenize all beliefs into one generic spirituality, but to recognize our shared humanity beneath our different expressions of the sacred.
How can a universal god be on both sides of every war or argument? We are fallible creatures, often fighting for the same underlying principles but divided by misinterpreted and mistranslated stories that now pit us against one another. The irony is that we often share the deepest values—love for family, desire for peace, yearning for meaning—while killing each other over different names and metaphors for the same transcendent reality.
The spiritual path worth walking is not one of blind acceptance but conscious discernment. It requires the courage to question, the humility to listen, and the wisdom to recognize that no single human perspective—including our own—captures the full truth. If we are too rigid, the entire structure will crumble. We need the power of critical thinking to be able to shift and transform when needed.
We need to be able to grow from adolescence to adulthood with our own journey of adventure, with twists and turns, as the heroes and main characters of our own stories. This approach doesn't weaken authentic faith—it strengthens it by rooting it in genuine conviction rather than social conformity or fear of punishment.
When we put children first, we create religious and educational environments that honor questions rather than suppressing them, that value critical thinking alongside reverence, that recognize doubt as a legitimate part of spiritual growth rather than a threat to be eliminated. We raise children who understand that true faith emerges through wrestling with difficult questions, not avoiding them.
This vision opposes authoritarianism in all its forms—not just in geopolitical adversaries but in our own institutions, including religious ones. It recognizes that the greatest threat to human flourishing is not difference or doubt but dogmatic certainty that refuses to examine its own assumptions.
The liberation we seek is not just political but spiritual and intellectual—freedom not just from external control but from the internal constraints of unexamined beliefs. This is the promise America has always represented at its best: not just democracy as a political system but liberation as a way of being in the world—open, questioning, evolving, alive to new possibilities while honoring what remains valuable from the past.
Putting children first means creating a world where they can breathe this freedom, where they can question without fear, where they can embrace faith as a conscious choice rather than an imposed obligation. It means building communities where blind obedience is not confused with true devotion, where unity comes not from enforced conformity but from mutual respect and shared commitment to one another's wellbeing.
When your heart and soul are in coherence with our minds, that is when we can truly flourish.
This is the world our children deserve—not one where they're trained from birth to hate or fear, but one where they're empowered to think, to question, to choose, and ultimately to love based on genuine understanding rather than tribal allegiance. Let’s let our children see the beauty in the world, remember that for when they fall into trouble one day. This vision stands in stark contrast to all forms of authoritarianism, whether found in foreign regimes or in our own backyard, in secular ideologies or religious traditions.
The choice facing America—and each of us individually—is whether we will embrace this vision of liberation or succumb to the authoritarian impulses that have plagued human societies throughout history. When we truly put children first, that choice becomes clear. We choose freedom—not just political freedom, but the deeper freedom that comes from questioning everything, choosing consciously, and creating a world worthy of the children we love.
The Wisdom of the Body: Bridging Ancient and Modern Knowledge
What amazed me most about giving birth was how hard I worked to uncover the natural wisdom of our bodies. I discovered there are moments where the best thing we can do is get out of our own way—to let the animalistic part of us run wild while we watch with wonder. Birth taught me to redirect the energy-intensive task of overthinking into calming down, breathing, and trusting that my body knew exactly what to do.
This experience stands in stark contrast to what many religious traditions teach us: that we, as humans, are elevated precisely because of our ability to critically think. We are told we stand above animals in a divine hierarchy. But what I discovered through birth was that our most "primitive" brain functions can push us to achieve things our conscious mind could never orchestrate. We learn from cats, who give birth in dark, quiet spaces, not in loud, bright rooms where we do not know who is running in and out.
It's our animalistic brain that enables the flow state that Olympic athletes harness—using practice, muscle memory, and calm to run faster, more efficiently, and break barriers we never knew existed. Birthing mothers feel this same power. Giving birth burns as many calories as running a marathon. Every mother is a hero. Every child began as a single cell that outcompeted millions of other possibilities in the most important race of their life.
Biology is incredible, and there is undeniably a design, even if we may never fully comprehend the designer. This is precisely where science and spirituality converge. Who or what created such an intricate, brilliant pattern that can excel and become more complex, yet uses the same underlying principles repeatedly? The deeper we look with a microscope or the further we gaze out into space, we see the same patterns emerging—spirals, networks, self-similar structures repeating at every scale, ever increasing in complexity.
We don't have to consciously control digestion; it simply happens. The most advanced achievements of our bodies—restful sleep, ecstatic connection, painless childbirth—come when we quiet our "monkey minds," the very faculty we think of as our most advanced. This paradox is both scientific and deeply spiritual. The placebo effect works for a reason—our beliefs physically alter our biochemistry. Our bodies contain wisdom far beyond our conscious understanding.
We would do well to give credit to that body—that "animalistic" form with its reptilian brain and residual tailbone. That ancient part of our nervous system will always activate to save us because it is older and wiser, even if we've learned to temporarily override it with processed foods and synthetic drugs. Nature still rules. We cannot create life from nothing; we can only participate in and influence life's unfolding. We cannot exist independently—we are always connected to earth, air, water, sunlight, and we flourish when we integrate these elements into our daily existence. We always need someone else to create life together. We are a cooperative species. We have never been the biggest or even the smartest, but we are damn powerful when we come together. Cancer cells can be considered intelligent, aside from the fact that killing thier host means the end to their life cycle also. We should learn not to be a cancer on this planet, but use our gathered intelligence to live sustainably with what we’ve been given.
True wisdom lies in refusing to sacrifice long-term wellbeing for short-term gains. When our hearts and souls achieve coherence with our conscious minds, that is when we truly flourish. Let's allow our children to see and feel the beauty in the world, storing those experiences as reservoirs of resilience they can draw upon when they encounter hardship.
This integration of body wisdom and conscious awareness represents the most profound bridge between science and spirituality. The false dichotomy that pits rational thought against embodied knowing has damaged both our intellectual traditions and our lived experience. The body isn't a mere vehicle for the mind—it's the foundation of consciousness itself, the instrument through which we perceive and interact with reality.
Recent neuroscience confirms what many spiritual traditions have long taught: emotions aren't irrational interruptions of thought but vital sources of information processed through the body. The enteric nervous system—our "gut brain"—communicates bidirectionally with our central nervous system. Heart rate variability influences how our brain works. Our hearts sync with other beings in a five foot radius. Breath patterns alter brain states. Body posture effects confidence. These aren't metaphors but measurable biological realities that connect our "highest" cognitive functions with our most "basic" bodily processes. We can learn to “biohack” our genetics to express the best versions of ourselves, and create the best possible model for those to come after us.
When we create environments that honor this integration—whether in childbirth, education, healthcare, or spiritual practice—we allow human beings to access their full potential. When we fragment ourselves, privileging abstract thought over embodied wisdom, we create the conditions for alienation, suffering, and dysfunction that plague modern societies.
Putting children first means creating systems that honor the wisdom of the body alongside the power of the mind. It means recognizing that play isn't a frivolous distraction from learning but its essential foundation. It means understanding that emotional intelligence isn't secondary to academic achievement but fundamental to it. It means acknowledging that connection to nature isn't a luxury but a biological necessity for developing brains and bodies.
Noticing, and celebrating the changing of the seasons can be easily integrated into our daily experience, especially since we already do! Our seasonal celebrations kept alive the most ancient wisdom that lay people could never give up.
This integrated perspective doesn't reject civilization's achievements but contextualizes them within our evolutionary heritage. It doesn't abandon rational thought but enriches it with the wisdom that flows through our flesh and bones. It doesn't dismiss technology but insists that it serve human flourishing in its fullest sense—not just cognitive efficiency but emotional, physical, and spiritual wellbeing.
The world our children deserve is one where they don't have to choose between their minds and their bodies, between scientific understanding and spiritual wonder. It's a world where they can think critically while feeling deeply, where they can innovate technologically while remaining rooted in embodied wisdom, where they can participate in civilization while honoring their connection to the natural world that sustains all life. One of our greatest scientists- Einstein told us all of this, that we don’t have to leave the idea of magic behind.
This is the integration we must model if we hope to raise generations capable of navigating the complex challenges of our time with both intelligence and compassion, both innovation and wisdom. It begins not with grand theories but with simple practices: breathing, moving, connecting, attending to the present moment with our full awareness. Beyond mystical abstraction, these are practical tools for living in harmony with our nature.
The world our children deserve is one where they don't have to choose between their minds and their bodies, between scientific understanding and spiritual wonder. It's a world where they can think critically while feeling deeply, where they can innovate technologically while remaining rooted in embodied wisdom, where they can participate in civilization while honoring their connection to the natural world that sustains all life.
This is the integration we must model if we hope to raise generations capable of navigating the complex challenges of our time with both intelligence and compassion, both innovation and wisdom. It begins not with grand theories but with simple practices: breathing, moving, connecting, attending to the present moment with our full awareness. These aren't mystical abstractions but practical tools for living in harmony with our nature.
The Power of Connection: From Individual to Collective Wisdom
We cannot create life alone. This fundamental truth embodies our cooperative nature as a species. Throughout our evolutionary history, humans have never been the biggest or strongest creatures, nor even necessarily the smartest in every cognitive domain. Our superpower lies in our ability to come together—to pool our knowledge, to coordinate our actions, to build upon each other's insights across generations.
Cancer cells might be considered "intelligent" in their ability to evade the body's defenses and proliferate rapidly, except for one fatal flaw: they ultimately destroy the host that sustains them. In this, they offer a profound metaphor for our current relationship with the planet. We must learn not to be a cancer on Earth but instead to apply our collective intelligence toward sustainable coexistence with the systems that support us.
This shift requires recognizing our fundamental interconnectedness. Recent research reveals that human hearts synchronize their rhythms when people are within a five-foot radius of each other—a literal resonance that mirrors our emotional and social connections. This is measurable biology. We are wired for connection at the most fundamental level.
Our ancient seasonal celebrations, which persist in modified forms across cultures, kept alive practical wisdom that lay people could never abandon—knowledge about agricultural cycles, astronomical events, and natural rhythms essential for survival. These were much more than superstitious rituals, they were sophisticated knowledge systems encoded in accessible forms that could be transmitted across generations without written language.
Even Einstein, one of our greatest scientific minds, recognized that we don't have to abandon wonder and mystery to embrace rigorous understanding. "The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious," he wrote. "It is the source of all true art and science." This integration of wonder and precision characterizes our highest achievements.
We can learn to "biohack" our genetics—not through invasive technology but through lifestyle choices that influence epigenetic expression, turning beneficial genes on and harmful ones off. The emerging field of epigenetics confirms what many traditional wisdom systems taught: our daily practices, from nutrition to movement to stress management, influence how our genetic heritage manifests.
When we put children first, we create environments that nurture this innate capacity for connection. We design educational systems that balance individual achievement with collaborative skills. We build communities where interdependence is recognized as strength rather than weakness. We teach practices that maintain autonomy while fostering a deep need to belong.
The polarization that characterizes so many contemporary debates—between individual freedom and collective responsibility- reflects our fragmented understanding.
We see this in debates between technological progress and ecological sustainability, or economic growth vs equitable distribution.
When we recognize that true flourishing requires integration rather than opposition of these seeming contradictions, new possibilities emerge.
Our children deserve a world where cooperation doesn't mean suppression of individual gifts but their elevation through shared purpose. They deserve communities that celebrate uniqueness while nurturing connection, that honor personal achievement while recognizing our interdependence. They deserve education that teaches them to think for themselves while learning from others, to pursue their passions WHILE contributing to the common good.
This balanced approach isn't idealistic wishful thinking but practical necessity for surviving and thriving in the complex world we've created. The challenges we face—from climate change to technological disruption to social polarization—cannot be addressed through isolated individual action or imposed collective solutions. They require the emergent wisdom that arises when diverse perspectives engage in genuine dialogue toward shared understanding.
When we put children first, we create conditions for this wisdom to flourish. We model healthy disagreement without demonization. We demonstrate how to hold strong convictions while remaining open to new information. We show how to navigate complexity without resorting to oversimplification. We teach not just what to think but how to think together. We bring back the art of debate that allows us to hold an argument in our minds while also listening to the other person.
The integration of individual and collective completes the picture of human flourishing. We are neither isolated monads nor indistinguishable cells in a social organism. We are unique expressions of consciousness united in an interdependent web of relationship—with each other, with other species, with the planet that sustains us, and with the mystery that encompasses all.
This understanding highlights our individual responsibility, recognizing that true wellbeing cannot come at others' expense. It supports personal transformation as critical to systemic progress.
When we put children first, we create a world that honors both their uniqueness and their interdependence. We recognize that we need both roots and wings—secure connection and freedom to explore. We understand that their flourishing depends both on self-discovery and on finding their place within something larger than themselves.
This integration of individual and collective wisdom represents the culmination of human potential—not the subordination of one to the other but their dynamic integration in service of life. The “new” does not make the “old” irrelevant. It offers a vision of human community that transcends both the hyper-individualism that fragments our societies and the authoritarian collectivism that crushes the human spirit.
We do not want to feel trapped in something so structured and rigid that it is not authentic, while also away from the hyper individualism that leaves you disconnected. Something in between sounds pretty good.
The world our children deserve is one where they can become fully themselves while remaining deeply connected. They can pursue their unique paths while contributing to our shared journey. They can stand in their truth while remaining open to others'. More than a far off dream, this is the natural expression of our humanity when we remove the artificial barriers we've created between head and heart, self and other, or even humans (or goddesses) and nature.
When we put children first, we choose this integration as a lived reality that guides our personal choices, our institutional structures, and our collective priorities. We create a world worthy of their boundless potential and profound questions.
Put children first, and we'll evolve beyond being Earth's smartest plague into its wisest gardeners—growing a future where hearts sync, minds question, bodies remember, and Einstein's magic dances with Egyptian science.
