I thought I was wrong once, but I was mistaken.
A look at beliefs and being open to new possibilities
Is it possible that I could be wrong? Have you ever been so certain about something, ready to fight tooth and nail to defend your position, only to later realize you were wrong? No? Me neither… ;-)
I actually don’t mind being wrong sometimes (though my husband might disagree). It’s usually the smaller things I’ll fight to death about being right, rather than the big things - they are for exploring, for pondering. I’m not perfect and I don’t expect others to be either. Who really knows if my beliefs are right?
I have pretty strong opinions on things that most people won’t agree with me on - in parenting, health, the environment, spirituality and religion, government… I was raised in a mainstream house, with mainstream media, in a mainstream school, so at some point I believed what the majority believed too.
Whilst I’m sure that many of my current beliefs still need to be looked at, many of the ones that I held in the past turned out to be false. It is curiosity that keeps me from being too certain that I am right. The more I know, the more I realise that I don’t know. I try to be detached from what I believe to be ‘right’, because I always think that there is more to learn. It’s harder to do this when your identity, —or livelihood—is tied to that belief.
I appreciate that my opinions have evolved over time, because I have learned more, and because my philosophy and how I perceive the world has also changed. But it’s my worldview, shaped by my life experiences. I’m not naïve enough to think everyone should see things the same way I do.
For example, I used to believe that viruses and bacteria were these evil things, always waiting for the right moment to attack when my body was tired, run down and weak.
I used to believe that medications fixed diseases, and then I also used to believe that it was supplements from a factory, that were the key to being healthy. At that point I also thought that every medication was bad, and hung my hat on the identity of being one of those parents that would never give my child a pharmaceutical product.
I used to believe that crying was bad. I would breastfeed my son to stop him crying every time. I wasn’t able to see crying as a healthy release of emotion.
I used to believe that the Government was here to help us, not control us. The role of government was to unite us so we could build roads and the other essential infrastructure for a functional society.
I used to believe God was the man in the clouds. And then I thought that was so ridiculous, that there was no God. If I left my curiosity there I would have missed out on the journey, and the depth and insights of my current beliefs. I still don’t know what God is, (how can I ever be sure?), but I love the exploration of what is possible.
For now I am holding several ideas about the shape of the earth - I look outside and it’s flat, but all the things I ever learned about it tell me it’s round. I am not attached to the answer and I enjoy exploring more than one view point. When a group of people so strongly believe something that I don’t agree with, then I wonder - are they all crazy, or do they know something that I don’t? Maybe there is an aspect of their belief that I can learn from.
‘Climate Change’ is another belief I used to hold. I thought that I was bad because I was a human, and it is humans ruining the Earth, therefore I am part of the problem. There is a lot that I can agree on with activists, like the need to look after our planet and that big corporations are doing a lot to pollute it. But the term ‘Climate Change’ feels more like a political battle than actually connecting to the Earth and living abundantly and consciously with nature.
I also don’t like being told what to believe. It’s almost to the point where, if the government, mainstream media, or big pharma tells me something, I’ll instinctively assume the opposite. Of course, that’s not always ideal, and I hope the pendulum swings back to the middle, where I can hear a viewpoint without immediately thinking someone’s lying to make a profit. In GNM, our perception of a conflict is shaped by our previous traumas and life experiences, so I recognise the pattern here to protect myself, that not everyone will feel that.
And then there’s the repetitive nature of themes in movies and media. They subtly shape our beliefs, almost like a form of hypnosis. Are our beliefs really ours, or are they the ones we’ve been told to hold?
The more I explore, the less certain I feel about anything. But that’s not usually unsettling to me—it’s freeing. It’s a reminder that growth comes from questioning, not clinging to rigid beliefs, and I honour that others will see things differently. The world is complex, and my understanding of it is ever-evolving. Maybe that’s the beauty of it all—remaining open to what’s possible, without getting stuck in the illusion of absolute certainty.