In the world we are living in, it sometimes feels as if reality has crossed a threshold into something almost like a dark film, where everything is intensified, accelerated, and emotionally saturated, and I notice that even when I try not to focus on it, there is something in the collective atmosphere that I feel in my body, a kind of subtle contraction when I see so much confrontation, so much polarization, and so much energy invested in opposing rather than understanding.
And I want to be honest with this, without turning it into negativity, because it is not coming from a place of despair, it is coming from observation, and from the simple fact of being a human being who is sensitive to what is happening around me, while at the same time I have been working on myself for many years and I keep hearing and remembering that the real work is not only outside, but inside, and I deeply agree with that, and I continue walking in that direction, but I also recognize that I am still part of this world, and it is not neutral for me to witness a planet with so many resources and yet so much competition and disconnection.
The inner work and the weight of reality
There is a tension that I live with, because on one hand I understand intellectually and experientially that I cannot control what is happening outside, and that the most powerful change always begins internally, but on the other hand I also feel the human reaction to what I see, and I do not want to deny that reaction, because I do not think it is healthy to pretend that we are unaffected, especially when we are conscious of what is happening in the world.
At the same time, I also see that everything seems to be moving in cycles, in polarities, in constant opposites that generate movement and tension, and I can observe that this polarity is not something external to life, but part of its structure, and this helps me not to fall into absolute conclusions, because when I zoom out a little, I can see that history, nature, human behavior, everything seems to oscillate between extremes.
Camus and the way of not escaping reality
This is where the philosophy of Albert Camus resonates with me, because he does not ask us to escape reality or to find a perfect explanation for it, but rather to look at it directly, without illusions, and still choose how to live inside it, and I find something deeply honest in that, because there are moments where life does not give clear answers, and instead of forcing meaning, there is a possibility of staying present without denial.
When I read Camus, especially his idea of the absurd, I understand it not as something depressing, but as a mirror of this very experience, the experience of feeling that there is a gap between what we long for in terms of coherence and what reality actually offers, and yet instead of collapsing into that gap, there is a strange form of dignity in continuing, in showing up, in staying conscious without needing everything to make sense in advance.
The space between what happens and what I am
What I am learning, and what I am still practicing, is something very simple in theory but not always easy in lived experience, which is the ability to create a certain distance between what I think, what I feel, and what I am, because when I am fully merged with my thoughts, everything becomes heavier, more absolute, more overwhelming, but when I can observe them as something that arises within me but is not all of me, something shifts internally.
I would not say this is always easy, in fact it is one of the most difficult things, especially in moments where emotions are strong or where external reality feels intense, but I also recognize that this is exactly where practice happens, not in ideal conditions, but in the middle of life itself, when everything is moving and still I try to remember that there is a deeper space of awareness underneath the movement.
The origin of what we call darkness
When I try to understand what people call evil or darkness in the world, I notice that I cannot reduce it to a single explanation, because depending on the lens you use, it appears differently.
From a psychological perspective, especially in the work of Carl Jung, there is this idea that what we do not integrate within ourselves tends to be projected outward, and that the shadow is not something external, but something that belongs to the structure of the psyche, and when it is not recognized, it can express itself in distorted ways, both individually and collectively.
From a philosophical point of view, there is also the idea that part of what we call evil is linked to fragmentation, to separation, to losing connection with empathy or with a broader sense of belonging, and in that sense it is not something alien to human nature, but something that arises when awareness becomes narrowed or disconnected.
Stoicism and the return to the inner center
There is also something very practical that I find in Stoic philosophy, especially in thinkers like Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius, which is the reminder that between what happens and how I react there is a space, and that space is not theoretical, it is something that can be trained and recognized in real time.
When I remember that I cannot always control what happens, but I can always observe how I relate to it, there is a kind of softening that happens inside, not because the world becomes easier, but because I stop adding unnecessary layers of resistance on top of what is already there.
Living with awareness without hardening
What I am trying to cultivate is not indifference, because I do care deeply about what I see, but rather a way of caring that does not destroy me internally, a way of staying open without becoming overwhelmed, and a way of remaining sensitive without collapsing into the sensitivity itself.
And maybe this is the real practice, at least for me right now, to stay human in the middle of a world that often feels in tension, without closing, without hardening, and without losing the inner place from which I can still choose how to respond.