Change Yourself to Change the World
In a world ripe with division, it is crucial to focus on ourselves over external noise. When we do this we spark connections with others that lead to meaningful change.
“Smart people change the world; wise people change themselves” – Confucius
As we approached the 2024 election, the familiar cycle of division began again in our country—rifts in opinions, perspectives, and beliefs. With each election, this divide has intensified, and it is no longer about differing views. It has evolved into a chasm, a barrier that constantly threatens the alienation of those who dare to think differently than us. I made a conscious decision to step away from the constant noise of the media. While so many were preoccupied with changing the world, I chose to focus on changing myself.
It is all too easy to point fingers, to cast blame, to criticize what others are or are not doing. It is comfortable even to identify where others have gone wrong. But the true challenge lies in confronting our own shortcomings—acknowledging where we, ourselves, have fallen short. How often do we truly reflect on our actions and attitudes? How often do we take an honest look in the mirror?
I decided to focus on becoming the person I wanted to see in the world. As a result, I saw a ripple effect in the people around me. The conversations in my social and intimate circles shifted—they became more thoughtful, more open, and more willing to engage with differing perspectives. Before we criticize others for their beliefs or the causes they support, we must first examine how we are speaking, how we are acting, and how we are treating others. Real change does not begin with the world; it begins within us.
The Problem Isn’t the World, It’s Us
“Great minds discuss ideas, average minds discuss events, small minds discuss people” - Eleanor Roosevelt. It is astonishing how effortlessly we engage in conversations about others—how easily we discuss why someone’s marriage fell apart, why someone is not losing weight, why someone keeps choosing the same type of partner despite knowing it is not what they truly want, or why someone cannot seem to get out of debt. Whether we do this internally in our thoughts, over drinks with friends, or through gossip, we all too often find ourselves dissecting the lives of others. But how does this serve us? More importantly, who benefits from this practice?
It benefits our ego. It fuels the parts of us that feel insecure, offering a false sense of comfort by making us feel better about our own shortcomings. When we partake in this practice, we distract ourselves from the real issue: we avoid confronting ourselves. The problem is not the world around us—it is us. As I began turning my attention inward, I became increasingly aware of a pattern that dominated most group interactions: much of the time was spent discussing the lives of others, whether they were public figures or people we knew. I recall a specific moment at the gym, waiting for a workout class to start, when I overheard the conversations around me. It was about other people, steeped in judgment and filled with criticism, often revolving around flaws or life drama.
At that moment, I could not help but wonder how I had not noticed this dynamic before. It was because I had once been a part of it—actively participating in such conversations. After all, it seemed to be the glue that connected me with others. There is a bond formed in shared gossip, just as there is in shared trauma. To refrain from engaging in such talk feels like an act of rebellion, a risk to stand apart. Though many claim otherwise, it is in our nature to want to belong. We crave connection, and sometimes, we will compromise our values or sense of self to get it. I made a conscious effort to stop contributing to it: the endless energy invested in analyzing the who, what, when, where, why, or how of someone else’s choices. At first, this can feel uncomfortable. You may find yourself standing alone, isolated on a metaphorical island and while this sense of solitude can be disorienting at the beginning, something profound happens as you begin to anchor yourself. Over time, those who share a similar mindset will be drawn to you, and the community you build will be, in many ways, revolutionary. It becomes a collective that is focused on self-reflection and self-evaluation—redirecting the energy, advice, and resources we once poured into others back into ourselves. As Michael Jackson wisely put it, “I’m starting with the man in the mirror.”
