This summer has been a symphony of emotions, each note resonating with the highs of Olympic triumphs, only to plunge into the discordant lows of riots across the UK. As the U.S. election saga unfolds with its unyielding tension, and the Middle East crisis looms like a darkening storm on the horizon, I find myself longing for a respite—a sanctuary far removed from the relentless torrent of news.

Perhaps some of you, in your wisdom, have already disconnected, choosing silence over the ceaseless stream of unsettling events. And indeed, there is wisdom in that, for in a world that demands our constant attention, the choice to step back is a form of self-preservation. Yet, to truly live, to be fully present, is also to engage with the world as it is, in all its chaos and beauty. We cannot dwell forever in the safety of our bubbles.

Gestalt theory reminds us that when we encounter an event or a piece of news that strikes a chord within us, we instinctively position ourselves in relation to it. Our minds, ever eager to make sense of the world, seek clarity in the simplest terms: what aligns with us, and what alienates us. We draw lines between the good and the bad, the heroes and the villains. It’s a primal response, this need to categorize, to find comfort in the black and white, for the grey areas demand more of us - they require reflection, nuance, and, perhaps most unsettling of all, uncertainty.

But why challenge our views when they offer us the solace of certainty? Because certainty, while comforting, can also be perilous. When we are certain, we stop listening. We surround ourselves with voices that echo our own, reinforcing our beliefs and shutting out anything that might disturb our carefully constructed worldview. This is how echo chambers form, how conspiracy theories take root—by feeding our need for psychological safety, we become deaf to the complexity of the world around us.

It is worth experimenting with being wary in those moments when you feel most certain, most justified in your beliefs. It is in these moments that we risk losing sight of our shared humanity. Instead of settling into the comfort of polarity, consider the dialectic—a concept that might seem daunting, but is in fact a simple acknowledgment that reality is composed of opposites that can, and do, coexist. In grief, we see this truth clearly: we can mourn a loss and yet feel relief that suffering has ended. So too, in our interactions with others, gestalt encourages us to hold space for opposing viewpoints, to approach them with curiosity rather than condemnation.

The world today is in desperate need of such dialectical thinking. By embracing the tension between opposites, we move closer to our truth and presence—and, more importantly, closer to one another. For in understanding, even without agreement, we lay the groundwork for dialogue, and in dialogue, there is hope for connection.

Written by Marie-Anne Chidiac