They’re Just Not Making Any Sense
Finding Peace With Those Whose Views Differ Radically From Yours
Let’s be honest. Talking to someone you disagree with—especially if they’re related to you by blood, marriage, or awkward high school memories—is like playing dodgeball in a minefield.
At any moment, someone might throw the “You’re just brainwashed by NPR grenade, and next thing you know, you’re defending your entire belief system over a plate of slightly undercooked turkey.
And yet, there’s a Tao breadcrumb in this. A way through the madness. A path, not of confrontation or conversion, but of curiosity and connection. Because, believe it or not, it is possible to be both right and humble, to hold your truth without smacking someone upside the face with a moral spatula.
And for this, we turn to two unlikely bros…..Johann Wolfgang con Goethe and Friedrich Schiller.
Yes, that duo, the 18th-century German intellectual tag team who disagreed on just about everything—from the purpose of art to the meaning of life—but still managed to have one of the most profound, respectful, and wildly generative friendships in literary history.
Instead of cancelling each other out, they challenged each other. And in doing so, they refined one another’s thinking in ways they never could’ve done alone.
Goethe, well he was a romantic realist. Schiller, a idealistic firebrand. And yet, they kept writing letters. Long, handwritten letters.
Can you imagine that today? “Dear Cousin Jeff, Regarding your recent comments about migrants on Facebook…” (Nope.)
What Goethe and Schiller teach us is that true dialogue doesn’t require agreement. It requires commitment—to growth, to nuance, to staying in the ring without throwing punches.
This is where the Taoist vibe kicks in. In the Tao Te Ching, Lao Tzu tells us, “The wise man does not contend, and no one can contend with him.”
There’s profound strength in not needing to be right all the time. In Taoism, water is the strongest force because it yields. It flows. It finds the crack in the boulder and slips through anyway.
So maybe you don’t need to dunk on your cousin’s conspiracy theory. Maybe you can ask questions instead. Maybe—just maybe—you can respond like water.
But what if the disagreement hurts? What if it’s personal? What if someone’s views feel like a direct threat to your existence or your values?
This is where the I Ching—the Book of Changes—adds another layer of wisdom. Consider Hexagram 38: Opposition. It doesn’t say “Run away.” It says, “Opposition within a relationship can strengthen it, provided both sides are willing to reflect.”
There’s fire above and lake below in this hexagram structure—a visual metaphor for clarity rising above emotion.
The I Ching isn’t about avoiding difficulty. It’s about how we show up to it. And about are we adding fuel to the fire or letting the lake cool things down?
Here’s a radical idea: disagreement isn’t always dysfunction. Sometimes, it’s divine choreography. The Tao doesn’t care about echo chambers. It thrives in contrast. Yin and Yang aren’t enemies—they’re dance partners.
So the next time someone you care about drops a worldview that makes your skin crawl, take a breath. Channel your inner Goethe. Or Schiller. Or some poetic blend of both. Ask yourself, “Is this a moment for persuasion, or for presence?”
You can say:
“I see it differently, but I’m listening.”
“I hear your fear underneath that.”
Or the true Taoist refrain: “Mmm.”
This doesn’t mean condoning harmful beliefs. It means refusing to lose your own center in the presence of difference. It means honoring connection over conquest.
And it might just mean that you become the teacher. Not the preachy kind. The magnetic, mysterious kind who embodies calm like a bonsai tree in a thunderstorm. Who doesn’t take the bait. Who says little, but says it with soul.
The Tao invites us to remember: “He who knows doesn’t speak much. He who speaks much doesn’t know.” So don’t feel pressured to fire back every time someone’s wrong on the internet—or at your dinner table. Sometimes the most revolutionary thing you can do is sit, breathe, and smile.
Because here’s the cosmic joke….. that very person you disagree with might just be the mirror you need to polish your own practice.
Maybe your stubborn aunt is the next evolution of Schiller. Maybe your argumentative friend is your reminder to soften. Maybe that disagreement with your partner or spouse is the curriculum of the soul.
So go ahead. Pass the gravy. And the grace. Both might be exactly what the Tao ordered.
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I love this and wholeheartedly agree. Who we are being is what we contribute to and we have to become aware of where we ourselves are contributing to conflict instead of peace.
And also be humble enough to acknowledge that we may not be right about everything!
Love Rumi’s quote: The truth was a mirror in the hands of God. It fell, and broke into pieces. Everybody took a piece of it, and they looked at it and thought they had the truth. ✨
Reminded me of the old Country recording, "Would someone please pass the biscuits?"