This Month, Prioritize Human Connection.
I find myself in a deeply reflective space. For me, contemplation is a coping mechanism I use to make sense of my world when things feel overwhelming or out of control. And today, should’ve been a day in which we all felt a greater sense of control. It’s Election Day—a day when we’re told our voices matter, a day when choice and empowerment should feel tangible. Yet somehow, with each election, I've been old enough to participate, I feel a growing sense that our voices are falling into an abyss, that the choices we face feel shallow and fractured, as if casting a vote has become nothing more than tossing a penny into a wishing well.
We were raised to believe that voting is not only a right but a responsibility, something we should be proud of. Today It felt heavy, more like a somber duty. For me, this weight has less to do with any candidate or issue on the ballot and more to do with the disconnection between us, all of us. Our leaders, like it or not, are a reflection of us, although the word "symptom" strikes me as more fitting. It saddens me to consider, regardless of the election outcomes, we are unwell. We are divided, isolated, adrift in a sea of judgment, fear, and resentment. We may all agree that healing is needed, but have we asked ourselves what it truly means to heal?
Healing cannot be legislated or mandated. If we genuinely want to heal, it will not come from whoever sits in office. It has to start with us—by choosing to reconnect, by making a deliberate decision to close the gaps between us. I'm often reminded of the Judaic concept Tikkun Olam, which translates to "repairing the world." The real wisdom of this concept is found deeper than the literal translation, Tikkun Olam teaches us that "it may not be YOUR fault, but it is OUR responsibility." The spirit of this wisdom is found in all religions, Christianity calls on us to “love thy neighbor as thyself,” and Islam emphasizes ummah, a compassionate, united community. Buddhism speaks of metta, loving-kindness, and the understanding that all life is interconnected. Hinduism calls for seva, the selfless service to others. Even without a faith tradition, deep within each of us is the spirit of human solidarity—a recognition that our individual well-being depends on the well-being of others.
But we’ve allowed this truth to fade. We’ve become separated, convinced by influences that masquerade as connection but are designed to isolate us. It’s everywhere, from media that profits off our division to algorithms that trap us in echo chambers. In authoritarian regimes, one of the first rights to be stripped is free speech and the right to assemble. When people can’t gather, we can’t connect. And when we can’t connect, we lose our collective power. But the hard truth is, we haven’t needed an authoritarian regime to separate us. We’ve done it to ourselves. We’ve walled ourselves off, forgotten the essential nourishment that human connection provides, and, in doing so, have allowed ourselves to become divided.
Connection isn’t a luxury. It’s as essential as food, water, air. Without it, we’re not just lonely—we’re starved for meaning, for understanding, for belonging. And that’s when we lose ourselves. We have more in common with each other than with virtually any candidate on the ballot. If we want to bridge this divide, we need to begin by connecting not only with others but with ourselves. It’s easy to pick apart another person’s imperfections, to question their motives, to label them as ignorant, arrogant, even detestable. It’s easy to dismiss those we view as hypocrites. But it’s much harder to see these qualities in ourselves. After all, each of us believes we’re doing the best we can, that when we do something that contradicts our values, it’s justified “just this time.”
Connect with yourself. Ask where you’ve judged others unfairly, especially those who hold different values. Can you acknowledge moments in the past decade when you got caught up in the moment, only to later see things differently, maybe with a little regret? Where have you taken hard stances that now feel trivial, insincere, or even wrong? It can be scary and painful to confront ourselves in this way, but it is worth it. And the more we forgot the truth that, as human beings shaped by experience and circumstance, I am capable of being you and you are capable of being me, the further apart we drift from each other and ourselves.
Over the past 20 years, our culture has been captivated by superhero movies. These stories have valuable lessons, but they can be misleading, too. In the movies, it’s easy to tell the good-guys from the bad-guys. In real life, it’s rarely that simple, because in real life, the bad guys don’t think they’re bad. And it’s almost certain that the good-guys you support in this election are seen as the bad-guys by someone else—and for legitimate reasons if we can be honest with ourselves. Yet, you’re a good person. You love your family, you look out for your neighbors, you help others when you can. You want your loved ones to be safe, to live in peace, to pursue their dreams. These desires unite us. They are the bedrock of our shared humanity.
Imagine sitting across from someone whose beliefs directly oppose yours. It’s uncomfortable, maybe even infuriating. But in that moment, we have a choice. We can treat the conversation as a battle, an opportunity to prove the other person wrong. Or we can choose to engage with a “beginner’s mind”—approaching the conversation with openness, curiosity, without preconceptions. Perhaps we can learn something about their perspective we’ve been blind or deaf to? Perhaps policy they support, and you oppose is the right course of action, even if you wished it weren’t. We have to make a conscious decision to enter conversation without motive, without agenda, and without being attached to an outcome. We can choose to listen. Really listen. Not to correct or change, but to understand. Real learning isn’t about one person being right and the other wrong. It’s about the clarity and grace in the heart to see another person as they are and see ourselves reflected back. You may leave this conversation more frustrated than ever, and feel like it was a waste of time. But a seed has been planted, and that seed will grow... as long as it’s tended to. Think about how many times in your life you left a conversation in a defensive, agitated manner, so sure that you were right, and they were wrong, only to find yourself acknowledging later that they may have had a few good points you didn't consider. What did you do with that? What will you do with that?
When we’re willing to listen with openness, to ask, “What do you really want and need? What do you really fear? What do you really hope for?” we open up the space for something real. We begin to see that we’re not as disconnected as we think we are. Beneath every stance, every opinion, there’s a shared longing to feel safe, valued, understood. Most of us are searching for the same things—to belong, to be heard, to know that we matter. These are the needs that unite us, even when our beliefs diverge.
And so I find myself asking, what do we truly seek? Do we want to heal these fractures and live among those who hold opposing beliefs, or are we—if we’re honest—more interested in creating a society where those people don’t exist? I really don’t know sometimes. I know what I seek. Our votes today will influence policy and legislation, but our power runs far deeper. Real influence begins with taking responsibility of what we can control in our own lives, extends to our family and friends, and then moves outward: to our neighbors, our communities, our cities, and beyond. If we genuinely seek freedom of the individual, can we coexist peacefully when others use that freedom in ways we oppose?
Here’s a thought exercise: Think of one thing the other side is right about, in spirit, not the words they use. One thing they’ve done well. One point they’ve made that holds substance. Now do that again, and again. We can be so quick to dismiss rhetoric that we miss the real concerns underneath. We react to the delivery of a message instead of examining its heart. We hear a position we dislike, and rather than pausing to understand, we react, label it, categorize it, and dismiss it. But what if we didn’t? What if we shined the light of awareness on ourselves and question our own reactions, to listen with intention, and to seek the substance behind the words?
This isn’t easy work. It means holding space for complexity, and it means letting go of the need to be right and to win, so you can focus on what is true. In other words, regardless of what we think should be, what is reality? What should or shouldn’t be is irrelevant, it’s a fantasy. What matters is what’s real, and when we meet in reality, we have a chance to hear and be heard. I’m reminded of a painful lesson I finally learned. Someone once told me “Jason, sometimes when you win, you really lose.” I didn’t understand it until the game was over, and I lost big. Forget about the win, first seek to understand. It requires the humility to see ourselves as part of the problem as well as part of the solution. And it demands the courage to allow others to have their views—even when those views clash with our own.
We can’t legislate respect or tolerance into existence. But we can choose, in our own lives, to create it with everyone in mind. So ask yourself: What role am I willing to play in healing these fractures? Am I prepared to live alongside those I may never fully agree with, even downright oppose? Am I willing to try understanding, even when it’s painful? If we want to build a world that honors freedom, then we need to be ready for the challenges of coexistence, of compromise, and of meeting each other halfway.
I come back to the title of this entry, "this month, prioritize human connection." It's the one thing I keep coming back to as the only thing that will heal our fractures. Just like recovering from a major illness, injury, or surgery, healing takes time, it takes patience and compassion. And even after all of that, you still probably won’t like each other, perhaps you’ll better understand each other, but that’s all it takes. Most importantly though, you have to want ALL of us to heal.
I want us to heal. I want to heal. I believe we can. So, I’m going to try.
In an effort to help you prioritize human connection, I'm going to use this email to promote one thing, an opportunity to connect. This Friday, 11/8 from 6-8pm, Column & Stripe, the young professionals group of the Cleveland Museum of Art is hosting a Social Hour at City Goods in Ohio City. We're bringing together artists (specifically photographers this month) and art lovers, creatives, makers, and thinkers to connect with each other, without motive, other than to share an experience together. I invite you to join us, disconnect from the noise to reconnect with our shared humanity. Please RSVP in the link above.
That's all for now,
Jason