Unlooping Conflict

Explore the endless loop of conflict and a journey from reactive minds to open curiosity, unlocking a path to greater understanding and harmony.

Why do we accept conflict in our lives? Have you thought of this before? Or do you assume conflict is inevitable because we don’t know a world without it? Have you wondered if anyone has ended conflict in their lives entirely? And if they did, how? It’s definitely not an enjoyable feeling, moments of conflict. There are benefits, usually in the form of learning what not to do, but I’d still prefer no error than a supposed error correcting machine.

When I think of what conflict is, I imagine a chain reaction—cause and effect, with each response serving as the cause for the next reaction—an infinite loop. Just think of the nature of tribalism—the ism the majority of humans have subscribed to since our launch as a species. When there is a threat to one of our own, we mitigate it with a response. Religion, nationalism, gangs, sports teams—these are all forms of this. But there must be a cold start—an initial action that triggers the infinite loop. This is where our imagination comes into play. Often the idea of a threat alone is enough, regardless of if its validity. We imagine something that contradicts us and our imagination converts that contradiction into an irrational fear. And that fear then evolves into insecurity, triggering an initial action that sets off the chain of events.

This is a fact. When we realize that this is an observation of the actions of humanity over thousands of years, there is the possibility of something else. Of course, many have observed this loop, offering wisdom to turn the other cheek. But even with awareness of the behavior, we struggle in practice and are overcome by the desire to change those who are stuck in the loop. We foolishly believe that if we can show them what we’ve seen, that they will understand. But change must come from within. We can only hope that they too somehow lose themselves, so they may observe without their ism of choice, inherently separating them from other isms.

However, this does not seem like a clear solution for the end of conflict. For conflict to exist in reality, it must be accepted by both parties. Theoretically, one could do nothing. But this brings us back to the cold start—the opposition in the mind. Even silence is open to interpretation. So let’s pretend in this scenario, conflict arises from this silence—can conflict be resolved through communication? Or will we run into the limits of language? It seems unlikely we will find a solution to conflict within a finite framework of words that begets infinite interpretations. This is the problem with words, and with us.

So how else then can we end conflict? Well, if both parties wish for it to end of course. But not at the expense of the other. Compromise will not suffice, for compromise suggests the modification of beliefs, not their end. So we are left with curiosity—no attempt to resolve, but simply to inquire. Through this observation, with the absence of judgement and registration, we are free to communicate a collective will for the absence of conflict implicitly. An approach that does not outwardly contradict another’s beliefs, but examines the nature of conflict, born from these beliefs.

So perhaps the beginning of inquiry is the end of conflict. Before this, we must release the desire to resolve conflict by changing others. Maybe then, with an understanding of the structure, we can observe the same thing, breaking the infinite loop for good.

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