Be The Bridge, Not The Fire

I’m not interested in fueling the chaos. I’m interested in staying human.

My family is a great example of what I mean by be the bridge, not the fire.

I’m not aligned with my parents’ point of view in several areas of life. And there’s also a geographical distance — we don’t get Sunday afternoons together or casual drop-bys. We see each other a couple times a year, and we stay connected the rest of the time through calls, texts, and the quiet choice to keep the relationship intact.

If being right were the leader of our conversations, we would’ve stopped talking a long time ago.

But we didn’t.

We don’t share our perspective of life to convince each other. We don’t stay connected to win. We stay connected because love is bigger than agreement—and respect is how love keeps its footing.

That doesn’t mean we pretend differences don’t exist. It means we refuse to let them be the only thing that exists.

And honestly, it’s not just family. It’s friends. Coworkers. People I care about who see things differently than I do. At the end of the day, we still have mutual loved ones. We still have shared history. And when life gets hard, most people don’t “pick sides”—they show up. They protect. They defend. They care.

Common ground is usually closer than we think.

The ground I try to stand on is simple: love and respect for each other’s individual thoughts, feelings and opinions as humans.

Because I believe we’ve all had at least one relationship terminate over differences of opinion that we wish hadn’t. Maybe it was slow. Maybe it was dramatic. Maybe it was just… silence that lasted too long. And if you’ve ever looked back and thought, “I hate that it ended like that,” then you already understand what I’m saying.

So here’s my personal challenge — small, but real:

This week, be the bridge with one person you disagree with.

Not to abandon your values. Not to pretend differences exist.

Just to keep humanity in the room.

Send the text. Make the call. Ask one curious question about real life. Offer one kind sentence that doesn’t come with a lecture.

And here’s the thought I can’t shake:

If we can extend love and respect to people we share blood, history, and memories with… what kind of world would this be if we extended even a fraction of that to a stranger?

Maybe peace doesn’t need a spotlight.

Maybe it just needs practice.