I often think people on opposite sides of the political spectrum may have similar values around care, around thriving or around independence, or around helping the disadvantaged, but they have different ideologies, different ideas and philosophies about how to go about that. It's important that we start to see each others humanness, while at the same time not losing sight of those differences, views and speeches and actions that do cause harm, that we're clearly taking a stand against.

It's important that we see clearly with wisdom and awareness, but also take action.

To some degree, the critic arises out of that negativity bias in that our brains are oriented towards threat and toward survival. The critic really started as a survivor mechanism in early infancy and childhood when we were trying to navigate our early family system and culture; when we're learning how to fit in so we could optimize that flow of love and affection. It was an internal voice telling us to shut certain patterns and reactions down, that negativity bias that's always looking for what's wrong, looking for the threat.

A baroque art-rock bubblegum broadcast on a frequency understood only by female teenagers and bred field mice.

I was an angry young man, as you say. I was a punk rocker, blaming the government, corporations, and anything external, like my family, for my anger. I was pretty miserable, festering in my own mind. I began to think, there has to be a different way, there has to be another way out.

One of the tools I like a lot is the Just Like Me practice. It's one of the empathy practices where we put ourselves in the other's shoes. Rather than get caught up in the difference in the ideologies, we actually come back to the fundamental idea: just like me, this person on the opposite political spectrum wants to be happy, wants to be safe, wants to thrive, wants to be healthy, wants to find peace of mind.

We live with that sense of not being enough, and it causes a very painful state.