The Only Thing That's Real - Part 2: When Belief Becomes Real

Aug 21

7 min read

An Essene Life Mantra

Dr. Kenn McSperitt

What if the most important things in life aren't the beliefs we hold, but the impact we have on the world around us? In the concluding installment of The Only Thing That's Real series, Dr. Kenn brings together the themes of personal evolution, consciousness, and ancient peace traditions to explore what truly gives life meaning. Through warm reflection and practical wisdom, this Essene Life Mantra invites readers to look beyond opinions and appearances toward something far more enduring—something each of us has the power to shape every single day.

Last time we talked about something I think most of us rarely stop to consider.

The possibility that much of what fills our minds isn't reality itself...

it's our interpretation of reality.

That doesn't make those interpretations bad.

They're incredibly useful.

They help us make sense of the world.

They help us organize information.

They help us navigate life.

The problem isn't that we have beliefs.

The problem begins when we forget they're only beliefs.

Tonight I'd like to take that one step further.

I'd like to ask a question.

When does something that's only in your mind become real?

Think about that for a minute.

Suppose I have an opinion.

Maybe I think chocolate ice cream is the greatest invention in human history.

Someone else prefers vanilla.

Who's right?

Honestly...

who cares?

Nothing has really happened.

Two different opinions.

No consequences.

No harm.

Now imagine I decide that my opinion somehow makes me better than the other person.

I ridicule them.

Mock them.

Treat them as less intelligent because of their preference.

Something just changed.

The opinion was still imaginary.

But my behavior...

that became real.

Because now another human being has experienced the consequences of what was once only inside my own head.

That's fascinating to me.

The belief wasn't the problem.

The consequence was.

I've come to think that's one of the simplest ways to distinguish imagination from reality.

Reality leaves fingerprints.

Reality changes something.

Reality has consequences.

If something exists only inside my own mind, it's still part of my private world.

The moment it begins affecting my body...

or another person's experience...

or the world around me...

it has crossed into reality.

Think about how often this happens.

You remember an embarrassing moment from ten years ago.

Nothing is happening.

You're sitting quietly in your living room.

But suddenly your stomach tightens.

Your heart begins racing.

Your breathing changes.

A memory...

something existing only inside your mind...

has become physically real.

Your body doesn't know the difference.

It responds as though the event were happening all over again.

Our thoughts are far more powerful than we often realize.

That's one reason I've encouraged us to think before thinking.

Not because thoughts are dangerous.

Because thoughts become worlds.

Sometimes beautiful ones.

Sometimes painful ones.

And here's where life gets especially interesting.

The same thing happens socially.

Imagine someone asks you,

"What religion are you?"

Or,

"Who did you vote for?"

Or,

"Where are you from?"

Or,

"What team do you support?"

Those are fascinating questions.

But before you answer them...

who are you?

You're still you.

You haven't changed.

You're breathing.

Your heart is beating.

You're alive.

You're conscious.

Then you answer.

Immediately labels appear.

Categories.

Teams.

Boxes.

Some people now feel closer to you.

Others feel farther away.

Did anything about your humanity change?

No.

Only the story surrounding it.

Now please don't misunderstand me.

I'm not suggesting these things have no value.

Religion has value.

Culture has value.

Family traditions have value.

Communities matter.

Organizations matter.

Even sports teams have their place.

These things enrich our lives.

They help us belong.

They help us celebrate.

They help us find meaning.

But they're still maps.

They're not the landscape itself.

Problems begin when we mistake the map for reality.

When we begin believing that because someone belongs to a different group...

they somehow become a different kind of human being.

That's never made much sense to me.

Strip away the labels...

and every one of us laughs.

Every one of us cries.

Every one of us loves.

Every one of us loses people we care about.

Every one of us hopes.

Every one of us fears.

Every one of us wants to belong.

Maybe underneath all our different maps...

the landscape is much more alike than we imagine.

And perhaps that's what the founders of the ancient peace traditions kept trying to teach us.

Look beneath the labels.

Look beneath the stories.

Look beneath the identities.

Because underneath all of them...

there's another human being.

Just like you.

I'm continuing directly from where Part II left off.

Let's stay with that idea for just a little longer.

Imagine you walk into a room with ten people you've never met before.

Without anyone saying a word, what do you actually know about them?

You know they're human.

You know they're alive.

Beyond that...

not much.

You don't know what they believe.

You don't know who they voted for.

You don't know what religion they practice.

You don't know what keeps them awake at night.

You don't know what they've survived.

You don't know who they've lost.

You don't know what dreams they carry.

You certainly don't know the story that shaped them into the person standing in front of you.

And yet...

isn't it amazing how quickly our minds begin filling in those blanks?

We look at clothing.

Age.

Skin color.

Hair.

Tattoos.

Jewelry.

The car they drove.

The neighborhood they live in.

Their accent.

Their job.

Within seconds, we've started writing a story.

Not because we're bad people.

Because that's what the mind does.

It organizes.

Categorizes.

Simplifies.

It's trying to make the world manageable.

Again, that's not the problem.

The problem comes when we begin believing our story more than the person standing in front of us.

Have you ever had someone completely misjudge you?

Most of us have.

Maybe they thought you were arrogant.

Or unintelligent.

Or unfriendly.

Or privileged.

Or inexperienced.

Whatever it was...

they created a story about you that wasn't true.

How did that feel?

Probably frustrating.

Maybe even hurtful.

Now here's the uncomfortable question.

How often have we done the same thing?

It's humbling to think about.

One of the reasons I enjoy meeting people from different backgrounds is because they constantly remind me how incomplete my own perspective is.

Someone from another country.

Another faith.

Another political viewpoint.

Another generation.

Another profession.

Another culture.

They don't simply teach me about themselves.

They teach me about my own assumptions.

And that's a gift.

If I'm willing to receive it.

I've often said that the world is one of our greatest teachers.

People are part of that world.

Every person you meet is carrying a perspective you'll never have.

A childhood you'll never experience.

A combination of joys and sorrows uniquely their own.

The moment I assume I already know who they are...

I've stopped learning.

That's one reason I think curiosity is one of the highest forms of respect.

Curiosity says,

"Tell me your story."

Judgment says,

"I already know it."

Which one sounds more loving?

Which one sounds more peaceful?

Which one actually contributes to personal evolution?

Here's something else I've been thinking about.

Imagine for a moment that every belief system disappeared overnight.

Religion.

Politics.

Nationality.

Race.

Economic class.

Professional titles.

Social status.

Every label.

What would remain?

You.

Me.

Another human being standing across from us.

Hungry.

Hopeful.

Sometimes afraid.

Wanting to be loved.

Wanting to matter.

Wanting to belong.

In other words...

the things we all share.

Those things are remarkably difficult to argue with.

Because they're experienced by nearly everyone.

That's why I don't think peace begins by convincing everyone to believe the same things.

I don't think that's ever been possible.

And honestly...

I don't think it's necessary.

Peace begins when we recognize that another person's humanity is more real than the labels attached to it.

That doesn't mean beliefs become unimportant.

It means people become more important than beliefs.

That may sound simple.

But imagine what would happen if we actually lived that way.

Imagine political conversations.

Religious conversations.

Family dinners.

Social media.

Imagine beginning every disagreement with one quiet reminder:

"Before me stands another human being whose life is every bit as real as my own."

How different might the conversation become?

Next time we'll bring this entire series to its conclusion.

Because once we begin seeing through the labels...

once we begin recognizing beliefs for what they are...

we're left with one final question.

If our beliefs are not the most real thing about us...

what is?

And I think the answer is beautifully simple.

It isn't what we think.

It isn't what we believe.

It isn't what group we belong to.

It's something much closer to home.

Something every one of us has the opportunity to choose...

every single day.

Dr. Kenn Challenge

I'd like you to practice what I call "Seeing the Human First."

Until we meet again, every time you find yourself making an immediate judgment about another person—based on their appearance, beliefs, politics, religion, profession, lifestyle, or any other label—pause for just a moment.

Ask yourself:

"What do I actually know about this person... and what story am I creating in my own mind?"

Then ask a second question:

"How would I treat this person if I knew nothing about their labels and only remembered that they are another human being, trying to find peace, purpose, and belonging, just like me?"

You don't have to change your beliefs.

You don't have to agree with theirs.

Simply practice seeing the person before the label.