I wanted to use spirituality to fight injustice. Until I realised something very difficult

In recent years I have heard on several occasions – partly because of my star sign – that I am someone who is very self-centred.

The truth is that a large part of my own exploration of spirituality stemmed from precisely the opposite need.

I wanted to find out if there was any way we could be of more help.

Not just ourselves. Not just our personal lives, our relationships, our finances or our personal goals. But also people who are suffering. People who are being wronged. Situations that seem to have strayed from any notion of justice.

And the more I learnt about energy, intention, meditation, manifestation and various spiritual practices, the more a thought began to take shape within me:

If all these things can have an impact on our own lives, why shouldn’t they be put to use for something greater?;

Why not try to send energy into a war?;

Why shouldn’t we try to promote peace?;

Why not take practical steps towards greater justice in a country?;

Why shouldn’t we try to have a positive impact on a situation in which people are suffering?;

After all, why should we use what we know only for ourselves?;

These thoughts have crossed my mind on many occasions.

Especially when I witness events that make me feel angry or that I perceive as unfair.

There have been times when I’ve genuinely thought that I’d like to put what I know to good use in a much more collaborative way.

And every time I discussed it with people who had far more experience than me in these fields, the answer I received was almost always the same.

You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.

To begin with, I didn’t like that answer at all.

Because when you see something you consider to be unfair, the natural reaction is:

«But what do you mean, I shouldn’t intervene? Someone’s suffering, after all.».

And this is perhaps one of the hardest lessons I have learnt through my spiritual journey.

The fact that we observe a situation and have a very strong opinion about what its outcome ought to be does not necessarily mean that we are aware of all its parameters.

When many lives are at stake, you don’t know the whole story

In any major social, political or human situation, there is never just one person involved.

There are hundreds, thousands or even millions of people.

There are personal stories.

There are options.

There are vested interests.

There are fears.

There are things we know and things we will never know.

And for those who view life from a more spiritual perspective, there is yet another aspect to consider:

Karma.

I do not use the word in the sense of punishment.

Karma does not necessarily mean that someone «gets what they deserve». I consider this to be a very simplistic and often harsh view.

One might view it more as a sequence of choices, experiences, relationships and lessons that we are not always able to understand from the outside.

And that’s when I began to realise something.

If I try to force a particular outcome in a very complex situation, because I believe I know what the «right» solution is, what exactly am I doing?;

Can I help?;

Or do I make decisions on behalf of other people?;

Good intentions do not always mean that we have the right to intervene

This is perhaps the most difficult part.

Because we have learnt to equate good intentions with the right outcome.

If I have your best interests at heart, then it’s right for me to intervene.

If I want to protect you, then I have the right to tell you what to do.

If I think you’re wrong, then I have a duty to correct you.

If I know of a technique that I think might help you, then I can use it on you.

But it’s not quite that simple.

Because even the best of intentions can harbour an element of control.

It may conceal the belief that:

«I know better than you what you need.»

And this isn’t just about spirituality.

We see this every day in our relationships.

A parent who wants to «protect» their child from making any mistakes.

A partner who tries to change the other person because they believe they know what is best for them.

A friend who is constantly giving unsolicited advice.

A person who believes that, simply because they love someone, they have the right to decide which direction that person’s life should take.

We often do it out of love.

However, love without respect for free will can easily turn into control.

Sometimes what we call a «problem» isn’t a problem for someone else

That was yet another difficult thing for me to come to terms with.

There are times when we look at someone’s life and think:

«But can’t he see what he’s doing?»

«Why is she staying in this relationship?»

«Why doesn’t he just quit this job?»

«Why doesn’t it change?»

«Why does he keep making the same mistake?»

We may be right.

Maybe, maybe not.

The important thing, however, is that this life is not our own.

Just because something bothers us when we notice it doesn’t mean the other person is ready to change it.

Just because we can see a way out doesn’t mean he’s still willing to go down that route.

And sometimes, however hard it may be for us to admit it, a person has the right to do even what we consider to be wrong.

He has the right to give it a go.

May it fail.

Let him try again.

To take a path that we would never have chosen.

Let him figure it out in his own time.

What about manifestation for other people, then?;

This is something I’m now much more careful about.

There is a significant difference between:

«I hope this man is well»

and in:

«I want this man to do what I think is right.».

Is there a difference between:

«I hope for the best possible outcome»

and in:

«I want the outcome to be exactly that.».

And the difference is even greater when we start using techniques specifically designed to influence another person’s decision, emotion or behaviour.

Let him come back.

To change his mind.

Let him choose us.

To leave someone else.

To make a specific decision.

To understand what we want them to understand.

At this point, I think we need to ask ourselves:

Where does intention end and intervention begin?;

And what’s more:

Could it be that we are using spirituality to try to control something that does not, in fact, belong to us?;

The biggest change came when I stopped thinking about «how I was going to save the world»

Over time, my question has changed.

It was no longer:

«What can I do to change all these people?»

It happened:

«Which part is mine?»

Because that is where we have real power.

We may not be able to end a war.

However, we can choose not to create conflict in our everyday lives.

We may not be able to put right all social injustices.

We can, however, be fair in our dealings.

We may not be able to rid the world of pain.

However, we can choose not to cause the person opposite us any further pain.

We can help whenever we can.

Let’s speak politely.

To stand up for someone when they really need support.

Let’s give our time.

To share knowledge.

Let’s give it a go.

We must not take advantage of a weakness.

Let us respect the fact that the person next to us may, at this very moment, be climbing a Golgotha of which we are unaware.

These may seem very small in the face of the world’s enormous problems.

It isn’t.

Because the world is not something abstract.

The world is made up of the people who inhabit it.

And we are one of them.

There is, however, something we often forget: not to lose ourselves in the name of kindness

For a long time, there was an idea that I took almost for granted.

That a good person is one who gives way.

Which makes room.

Who puts others first.

Which isn't a problem.

Who forgives.

Who makes sacrifices.

Where it leads.

And, of course, all of these can be wonderful qualities.

But not when they keep happening at your expense.

Because at some point, then, we’re no longer talking about kindness.

We’re talking about self-abandonment.

And here, too, there is a paradox that I often notice.

People who don’t feel particularly guilty about putting themselves first often seem to have a better time of it.

Whereas those who care about everyone constantly give in and worry about upsetting anyone, they often end up exhausted.

I don’t think the solution is to become indifferent or self-centred.

Quite the opposite.

I believe we need to realise that we, too, are among those people we have a duty to look after.

If we speak in terms of energy, every time you say to yourself:

«My needs can wait.»

«Everyone else is more important.»

«It’s all right if I back down again.»

«As long as they’re all right.»

In effect, you are training yourself to believe that you are not as valuable as everyone else.

True generosity does not require you to disappear.

So what does «help» actually mean?;

For me, it means something very different today from what it used to mean.

It doesn’t mean I’m taking over your life.

It doesn’t mean I’m correcting you.

It doesn’t mean I’m saving you.

It doesn’t mean that just because I believe I have a solution, I have to impose it on you.

It means I can stand by your side.

Let me tell you:

«I’m here if you need me.»

Let me ask you:

«Do you want to hear my opinion?»

Let me offer you a tool and leave it up to you to decide whether to use it.

I must respect even your decision not to do any of the things I believe to be right.

That is not indifference.

It is respect.

There are, of course, times when we have to step in

I do not believe that the principle of non-interference should be used as an excuse for indifference.

If a person is in immediate danger, if there is violence, abuse or a serious threat to their life or safety, I do not believe we should sit idly by and say:

«It’s his karma.».

To me, that’s not spirituality.

This is a disclaimer.

Spirituality must not cause us to lose sight of our humanity.

But in most everyday situations, where there is no immediate danger, we may need to do something that is far more difficult than simply giving advice.

Let us show respect.

Let us trust.

Let’s allow others to follow their own path.

The difficult lesson

I used to think that the more tools I learnt, the better I’d be at fixing things.

To help.

To influence.

To change.

I see it differently now.

Perhaps true power does not lie in acquiring so much knowledge that you can intervene in everything.

Perhaps it lies in becoming so self-aware that you know it is not your place to intervene.

Know when to speak.

When to make an offer.

When to take action.

And when to take a step back and let the other person take the helm of their own life.

After all, wanting to change the world does not necessarily mean you have to change other people.

It might mean doing your bit as best you can.

That you become a bit fairer.

A bit more human.

A little more self-aware.

That you give when there is room for your contribution.

And that you respect other people’s freedom, even when their choice is not the one you would have made.

Perhaps, in the end, this is one of the most difficult kinds of love.

Care without controlling.
To give without imposing yourself on others.
To help without having to be anyone’s saviour.

And remember that you don’t always have to do something huge to change the world.

Sometimes it is enough simply not to add to the injustice where there is already enough of it.