Fear of failure is an Obstacle to Pursuing Goals

I recently was browsing through my book titled “The Wealth in the Great Kingdom” (an exceptionally engaging read, by the way!). and decided to analyze the quote. “People are afraid of failure, and that’s why they very rarely take on something that is in their best interest or something that is their dream.” This isn’t some revolutionary, unheard-of revelation, right? We all know it to some extent.” Think about it. How many times have you had an idea, a goal, a little whisper of a dream, and then… crickets? Not because you didn’t want it, but because the “what if” monster has reared its ugly head? What if I try to start a side business and no one buys anything? What if the office mocks my request for a promotion? What if I take that art class and my drawing looks like a toddler’s scribble? What if I start this blog (meta, I know!) and no one reads it? This fear of failure isn’t just an annoying voice; it’s a real lever at the door of our potential. It stops us from even trying to do things that are explicitly good for us or deeply rooted in our hearts. And here’s the thing: It’s not just about grand, life-changing dreams. It’s also about the smaller, everyday things that could make a big difference in our lives. Asking for help, setting boundaries, taking a different route to work, trying a new recipe, and learning a new skill can all make a significant difference in our lives. These are all things that could be “in our favor,” but the fear of messing things up, looking stupid, or “wasting” time can hold us back. So what’s going on here? We’re so terrified of a bad outcome that we completely shut out the possibility of a good one. To avoid the discomfort of potentially tripping up, we’re choosing to stay where we are, even if it’s not where we want to be. But here’s a little secret: Everyone fails. Seriously. Every successful person you admire has a graveyard of failed attempts behind them. The difference? They didn’t let those failures define them or stop them from taking the next step. They learned, they changed, and they kept going. What actions can we take to overcome this? Reframe failure: Rather than viewing it as a catastrophic event, view it as a valuable piece of information. “Okay, that didn’t work. Why? What can I do differently next time?” This isn’t a stop sign; it’s a workaround. Start small. Do you have a big dream? Break it down into the smallest, most doable first step. Don’t want to fail while writing a novel? Just write one sentence today. Don’t want to fail your presentation? Just make a plan on the first slide. Embrace imperfection: “It’s better to be done than perfect” is a mantra for a reason. Go out there, try, stumble, and learn. It’s all part of the process. Think about the cost of not trying: What’s worse than failure? Imagine looking back years later and wondering "what if" you had just taken that step. Regret is often much more painful than a wrong step. This line from “The Wealth in the Great Kingdom” isn’t just an observation; it’s a challenge. It’s a call to look at what we’re hiding from ourselves because of fear, which is often much scarier in our heads than it really is. What is one thing you’ve been putting off because of fear of failure? Maybe today is the day to take just one small step in that direction. Even if it feels like a stumble, it’s still a step forward. What are your thoughts on this? Let me know in the comments below! Let’s overcome these fears together. 

 

The difference between a stupid, smart and wise person

Have you ever wondered what separates the person who is constantly putting themselves out there from the person who is always one step ahead and then the person who just seems to understand life on a deeper level? We often throw around terms like "stupid," "smart," and "wise" quite loosely, but there's a fascinating distinction that goes far beyond just IQ. Think of it as different levels of understanding of how the world works, or maybe just how well you learn from those inevitable bumps in the road."A stupid person doesn't accept mistakes." Now, I'm not talking about someone who struggles with complex math, because that's just a skill gap or a different kind of intelligence. I'm talking about someone who keeps making the same beginner's mistakes, over and over again. You know the type: touches a hot stove, burns their hand, and five minutes later reaches for it again, genuinely surprised that it's still hot. Or he falls for the same phishing email, even after you’ve explained it to him three times. It’s not a lack of information; it’s a complete failure to learn from experience or simply a complete disregard for basic common sense. As the old saying goes (often attributed to Einstein), “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” Indeed, our "stupid" friend is trapped in a cycle, seemingly impervious to learning. A smart person learns from their mistakes. What about the “smart” person? They are quite different. Once they come into contact with a hot stove, they suffer a burn and swiftly grasp the lesson. The next time they recall the pain, they might even reach for an oven mitt or at least proceed with caution. They excel in problem-solving, comprehending the relationship between causes and effects, and effectively applying their knowledge. They will figure out a more efficient route to work after getting stuck in traffic, or they will read up on how to avoid phishing scams after a dangerous situation and implement new security measures on their computers. They effectively navigate the world by gathering, processing, and utilizing information. They know that “knowledge is power,” as Francis Bacon said, and they use that power to accomplish their work done and avoid pitfalls. They are adept at adapting and optimizing. "A wise person learns from the mistakes of others." This individual does not require experiencing harm firsthand to understand that it will be painful. They merely observe another individual being struck by a bus and contemplate, "Note to self: avoid playing in the bus lanes." They absorb the experience secondhand like a superpower. Example: You’re at work. Brenda in accounting just spent three days working on a giant report, didn’t save it once, and her computer crashed. You hear a blood-curdling scream from her office. But the wise person? They watched Brenda’s crash from afar, silently opened Google Drive, and set their document to “autosave every minute.” They didn’t have to go through the data loss themselves. They learned from Brenda’s very public, very painful mistake and proactively avoided that future headache altogether. That’s wisdom. The result is efficiency on a whole other level. But they will also carefully warn others, explaining danger not just as a rule but as a principle of safety and well-being. They see the bigger picture, foresee long-term consequences, and often possess an incredible sense of empathy and judgment. They don’t just solve problems; they often prevent them or propose solutions that benefit all involved, considering not only efficiency but also harmony, ethics, and sustainability. It's not just knowing what to do, but when, why, and the impact it will have. As Aristotle wisely observed, “Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom.” They understand human nature, their limitations, and the vastness of the world around them, often guiding them with a gentle, insightful hand. So what’s the point? Stupidity is your greatest obstacle. Smartness is being your own teacher. Wisdom is letting the whole world be your teacher. It’s a reminder to loosen our grip on our ego, to pay attention to the mess people around us make, and to realize that not every lesson has to be learned the hard way. So the next time people make a mess around us, just smile. They’re giving you a free lesson. All you have to do is be wise enough to accept it. 

The only problem with a person who always finds fault with another is because of their weakness

This week I had the idea to jot down a few lines about the quote from The Wealth of the Great Kingdom—"The only problem with a person who always finds fault with another is because of their weakness"—it's really different, isn't it? It’s one of those lines that makes you think, “Yeah, that explains a lot.” The quote's simplicity belies its profound depth. When we talk about someone who “always finds fault with another,” we’re not just talking about a one-time complaint or a valid complaint. We’re talking about someone who seems to have a built-in flaw radar, constantly pointing out what’s wrong with everyone else—their choices, their appearance, their work, and their life in general. It’s a pattern, almost a compulsion. The quote states that the only issue with this behavior is their "own weakness." Aww. However, it's also quite cleverly said. It’s not about the person they’re criticizing; it’s about the critic themselves. These “weaknesses” don’t necessarily have to do with them being physically weak or downright poor people. They are usually internal, hidden struggles. Think about it:  Insecurity is a big one:  This condition is probably the most common culprit. If someone is deeply insecure about themselves—their appearance, their intelligence, their success, their happiness—what's an easy way to feel temporarily better? This can be achieved by highlighting the perceived shortcomings of others. It's akin to saying, "If I can make you feel inferior, perhaps I'm not as bad as I thought." It's a defense mechanism, a way to deflect attention from their fears and self-doubt. Example: Do you know that colleague who consistently makes sarcastic remarks about others' presentation abilities or their fashion selections? However, if you look closely, they might be quite shy about presenting themselves or dress in a way that blends in, trying not to draw attention. Their critiques might stem from their fear of being judged or their feeling that they aren't quite "good enough." Envy and Jealousy: Another classic. When someone sees another person achieving something they secretly desire—be it success, a fulfilling relationship, happiness, or even just a cool new gadget—their dissatisfaction often masks deep-seated envy. Rather than experiencing genuine joy for others, they seek to undermine their happiness. "Oh, she got that promotion, but she probably just got lucky," or "His new car is nice, but it's probably a money pit." Example: Imagine a friend who constantly finds fault with your partner or your relationship. "Are you really sure they're right for you? They seem a bit [insert negative trait]." Often, this response comes from a place where they might be struggling to find a path, or their relationship isn't as fulfilling as they'd like. Lack of Self-Awareness/Personal Fulfillment Sometimes, individuals who are perpetually dissatisfied with others may actually be deeply dissatisfied with their own lives, but they struggle to pinpoint the reason or why. They might feel a lack of purpose, emptiness, or just general unhappiness. They project their unhappiness outward onto everyone else instead of doing the hard work of looking inward and fixing their own issues. Blaming others is easier than blaming yourself. Example: Think about folks who spend an excessive amount of time online, trolling comment sections, or tearing down strangers. What personal challenges might lead individuals to find comfort in critiquing those they are not acquainted with? It's often a void that they're trying to fill, a way to exert some kind of power or control when they feel powerless in their existence. Fear of the Unknown/Change: For some, constantly finding fault in others stems from a rigid worldview and a fear of anything that deviates from their norm. They criticize different ways of thinking, living, or loving because they challenge their safe, familiar box, which can feel threatening. For example, a family member may nitpick every decision a younger relative makes regarding their career or lifestyle, consistently finding something "wrong" with those choices. They might be genuinely operating from a place of fear—fear of the unknown, fear that things are changing too fast, or fear that their life choices weren't the "best" ones. Therefore, the quote from " The Wealth of the Great Kingdom" offers insight rather than meanness.  Individual struggles often reveal the source of someone's persistent negativity, which typically stems from their own unaddressed flaws. It provides you with an alternative viewpoint, not to justify unacceptable behavior, but to comprehend its underlying causes. And indeed, it also serves as a valuable reflection for ourselves: if we find ourselves habitually scrutinizing others, perhaps it is time for a moment of self-examination. 

Author: Sezgin Ismailov

Actual indicators—how do you ascertain whether you have advanced?

 Have you ever paused to consider, "Am I truly making progress here?" It's a common thought, particularly when life seems like a never-ending cycle. We're often told progress equals a bigger title, a fatter salary, or a fancier car. And sure, those can be signs. But real, deep-down progress? That often looks a little different, and honestly, a lot more personal. How can you determine if you have advanced? For a moment, let's set aside the conventional scorecard and examine some authentic signs that you're not merely drifting aimlessly but genuinely creating a life you cherish.  Your financial situation feels less stressful. Okay, let's be real, money isn't everything. But having enough money and using it wisely is a giant freedom. Think back a few years. Were you constantly sweating over bills? Were you constantly balancing your rent and groceries? A sign of progress: You're not just getting by; you're building a buffer. Perhaps you have established an emergency fund and are actively contributing to a retirement fund, even if the contributions are small. Remember that old, beat-up couch you desperately wanted to replace? Now you can actually plan for that upgrade without sacrificing your ramen noodle budget. It's not about being a millionaire; it's about feeling a sense of security and choice with your finances. You're not just earning more; you're managing it better. You’ve Got More Free Time (And You Actually Use It!) This is a significant achievement. Working continuously is often considered a badge of honor in our hustle culture. But if your idea of "free time" is nodding off on the couch after a 12-hour day, that's not exactly progress. You're intentionally carving out time for things that aren't work. Maybe you used to work 60-hour weeks, and now you're happily clocking 40-45. You're rediscovering hobbies you loved, spending quality time with family or friends without feeling rushed, or just having genuinely lazy Sundays. Remember when you wanted to learn guitar but "never had the time"? You now find yourself picking it up a few times a week. That's not just more spare time; it's a commitment to your well-being and personal joy. You've Got More Control Over Your Life. Ever felt like a ping-pong ball, bouncing wherever life, your boss, or demanding friends pushed you? Feeling like others were always calling the shots? A sign of progress: You are now in control. This could mean: Saying "no" without guilt: no to that extra project that would burn you out, no to social plans you're not genuinely excited about. Setting boundaries: with work, with family, with friends. You're not letting people drain your energy reserves. Making big decisions for you, like changing careers, moving cities, or ending a relationship that wasn't serving you—because you decided it was time, not because you were forced. You’re less reactive and more proactive. You've Kicked (or Are Kicking) Those Pesky Addictions. When we discuss addictions, most people think of substances. But let's broaden that. The term "addiction" includes unhealthy habits, toxic relationships, endless social media scrolling, constant validation-seeking, or even just a nagging reliance on things that don't truly serve you. A sign of progress: You're breaking free from things that held you back. Maybe you've cut down on mindless binge-watching, you're no longer gossiping constantly, you've removed yourself from a draining friend group, or you've finally tackled that sugar craving that ruled your afternoons. It's about recognizing what isn't serving you and actively working to replace those habits with healthier ones. It's tough, but that feeling of regaining control over your habits is incredibly empowering.  You're Helping More People (Beyond Just Yourself). True progress often involves shifting your focus outwards. When you're constantly in survival mode, it's difficult to think about much else. But once you've secured a bit more stability and control, your capacity for contribution grows. A sign of progress: You're actively making a positive impact on others. This could be mentoring a junior colleague, volunteering for a cause you believe in, genuinely listening and offering support to a struggling friend, or even just consistently being a reliable, kind presence in your community. Remember when you barely had time to do your laundry, let alone help someone else? Now, you're sharing your knowledge, your time, or your resources without feeling depleted. It's the ultimate sign of abundance—you have enough to share. So, how's your scorecard looking? Progress is not a linear path, nor is it a competition. There will be ups and downs. However, if you're successfully completing even a few of these tasks, it's truly commendable. You're not just living; you're evolving. Keep going, you're doing great!

Author: Sezgin Ismailov

Why would someone turn on the very person who offered them a lifeline?

 We’ve all heard the adage, “Lend a hand.” It’s etched into our collective consciousness as the epitome of human kindness, a fundamental pillar of community and compassion. See someone struggling? Reach out! Offer support! Be the hero they need! It sounds wonderful, right? Like something straight out of a feel-good movie. But here’s a rather uncomfortable truth, one that flies in the face of all those warm fuzzy feelings: people sometimes prefer not to receive open help. And believe it or not, in today’s hyper-individualistic, often privacy-obsessed world, this sentiment is becoming even more pronounced. It’s a strange paradox: we yearn for connection but often recoil from direct intervention when we’re at our most vulnerable. Think about it. There’s a quiet dignity in solving your problems, isn’t there? You experience a feeling of victory when you successfully navigate a challenging situation without requiring assistance. When someone swoops in with an outstretched hand, no matter how well-intentioned, it can sometimes feel like an unspoken judgment—a spotlight on your perceived inability. It undermines the independence and self-reliance we all strive for. We curate perfect online personas, showcasing our triumphs and hiding our struggles, only to have someone directly address our very real, uncurated need for assistance. It feels exposed. It feels… less than. Now, imagine you’ve spotted someone in genuine need. A friend is overwhelmed with work, a family member is financially strapped, and a neighbor is struggling with home repairs. Your heart goes out to them. You see a clear path to make their life easier, so you step in. You offer your time, your money, your expertise, and your connections. You roll up your sleeves and immerse yourself fully, sincerely believing that you are performing a worthwhile act. Perhaps there’s initial gratitude, a sigh of relief, and a heartfelt thank you. You feel wonderful. You’ve made a difference! Have you successfully accomplished your mission? Now, prepare yourself for some complexity. What happens a few months down the line? Alternatively, as the cynical wisdom suggests, "After a year, they will drive you insane, labeling you as the greatest evil." It sounds extreme, almost unbelievable. Why would someone turn on the very person who offered them a lifeline? Yet, it happens more often than you might think, and the reasons are as messy and complex as human nature itself. Occasionally, the initial gratitude can morph into resentment. That feeling of being "helped" can slowly eat away at their self-esteem. They might start to feel indebted, or even controlled, by your generosity. Your assisting hand, once a comfort, can become a constant reminder of a time they were weak or struggling—something they’d rather forget. It’s like a shadow that follows them, and in their desire to shake it off, they might try to push you away. Or perhaps, your help inadvertently created a new dependency. Maybe they started relying on you for things they could (or should) have learned to do themselves. When you eventually pull back or set boundaries, they might feel abandoned or even betrayed. You were there, then you weren't, and now they're stuck, though you didn't mean to. The easiest target for their frustration? They relied on you to provide solutions. Then there’s the unfortunate human tendency to shift blame. If issues persist following your intervention, who is more readily blameworthy than the individual who 'intervened'? "If only you hadn't done X," or "Your help just made Y worse." It’s an irrational defense mechanism, a way to absolve themselves of responsibility and project their lingering problems onto an external source. Even if your kindness had nothing to do with it, you are blamed for their ongoing issues. Provide assistance generously, akin to offering someone a mirror during a difficult moment with their appearance. They didn’t ask for it, and now they’re mad at you for noticing. Philosophers might say it’s about autonomy. Psychologists might call it ego defense. I refer to it as “the boomerang of goodwill”—when you extend kindness, it occasionally returns and strikes you unexpectedly.  Therefore, does such behavior mean we should all just become hermits, never offering a shred of support? Absolutely not. But it does mean we need to be somewhat savvier, perhaps more nuanced in how we offer help. Instead of just swooping in, perhaps the best approach is to empower rather than enable. Ask, "What do you think would help?" or "How can I support your efforts?" Offer a listening ear, a resource, and a temporary boost, but always ensure the person maintains control over their life. Occasionally, the most valuable help isn't the open, obvious kind. It's the quiet gesture, the subtle nudge, the connection to a different resource, or simply respecting someone's space to figure things out themselves, even if it’s painful to watch. It’s about understanding that true help isn't about making yourself the hero; it’s about fostering resilience, preserving dignity, and acknowledging the complex tapestry of human pride, vulnerability, and the sometimes-uncomfortable dance between giving and receiving. Helping hands can be challenging, but with a little wisdom, we can still extend them in ways that truly uplift, without unintentionally creating future enemies. So what’s the lesson? Help quietly. Help wisely. Help like a ninja—no cape, no credit, just stealth compassion. In the end, the best kind of help is the type that does not seek applause. 

Author: Sezgin Ismailov 

The Pointlessness of Billionaires and Politicians

 We’ve probably all fantasized about such a scenario at some point. The world is turning upside down, and while everyone else is running around like headless chickens, you’re as cool as a cucumber, descending into your secret, fully charged, reinforced bunker. The lights come on, the air purifiers hum, and you settle in with your freeze-dried lasagna, ready to weather the end of the world in relative comfort. Sounds pretty sweet, right? Now, let's take a moment to confront the harsh realities of the situation. Is the idea of a bunker appealing to you? It’s probably the most complicated, energy-consuming, and ultimately depressing dead end in the entire survival guide. The truth is that when a global disaster occurs, there is truly no escape—at least not in a meaningful way. And a bunker, far from being your salvation, can just be a costly, very lonely tomb. Why I Think So. The critical question is: how can one gain access to a bunker and remain safe inside it? First, let’s talk about the sheer logistics and cost. Building a bunker that could actually withstand a major apocalyptic event—think nuclear war, a supervolcano, or a pandemic that could destroy the world—isn’t just digging a hole and pouring concrete in. We’re talking deep underground structures, sophisticated air filtration systems (for radiation, pathogens, ash, and whatnot), self-sustaining power sources, massive water purification plants, and enough food and supplies to last for years, possibly decades. This isn’t a DIY project for your backyard. The result is an engineering marvel that costs tens, if not hundreds of millions, and maybe even billions for really sturdy bunkers. Therefore, that dream remains unattainable for approximately 99.999% of the population. But let's say you're one of the ultra-rich who can afford it. Great! Now, what about the big moment? The "event" happens. Are you in your bunker? Are you at home? Are you at work? On vacation? If you're not physically inside, good luck getting there. The world outside will be a mess, the roads jammed, and the communications systems down. Your impenetrable fortress is useless if you can't reach it. And even if you do manage to get inside, the problems don't stop. How long do you have supplies? Experts say you'll need at least two years, ideally five, given how long it might take for the outside world to become at least somewhat habitable. That's a lot of dry food, a lot of clean water, and many air filters. And please keep in mind the medical supplies. One serious infection, one broken bone, one appendicitis, and your perfectly sealed haven turns into a very unpleasant hospice.  Human psychology emerges as the most terrifying monster of all time. For the real horror show: your own mind. Imagine being isolated from the world, sometimes for months or even years, with a handful of other people (if you're lucky enough to have company). Forget about external threats for a moment. What about internal ones? The fever of isolation is real. Even under normal circumstances, confinement can lead to intense irritability, paranoia, and depression. In an apocalyptic bunker, under immense stress and without end, these emotions will be amplified a thousandfold. Disagreements over diminishing resources, personality conflicts, boredom, and existential dread will become commonplace. Without purpose, without natural light, without simply going outside, the psychological toll will be enormous. The suicide rate will likely increase dramatically. Even if you survive the apocalypse, will you really survive?  Why There's No Escape. However, the significant issue is that bunkers offer a false promise: you cannot remain underground indefinitely. Eventually, you have to emerge. And what do you immerse yourself in? Let's say the air is breathable, the radiation has dissipated sufficiently, and the zombies have, well, decomposed. What's left? A world completely transformed. Cities are in ruins. Infrastructure is gone. The skills needed to survive in a bunker (managing complex systems, monitoring air quality) are suddenly useless. Now you have to hunt, farm, build, find clean water without a massive filtration system, and defend yourself from other, potentially desperate survivors. You've survived the apocalypse, but you haven't escaped its aftermath. You're trading one terrifying scenario for another. You have successfully dodged the initial blow, only to step into a whole new ring with new, equally deadly challenges. This time, you are beginning anew, likely weakened, socially isolated, and mentally fragile due to your forced underground vacation. What is the point of surviving if there is nothing to live for? There is no society, no culture, no community, and no purpose beyond surviving biologically. The bunker offers temporary relief from the immediate threat, but it offers no solution to the long-term, fundamental human need for connection, meaning, and a functioning world. The real survival strategy is given to you by God, the creator, energy, or nature, as you were raised to call it. Therefore, the next time you imagine yourself in a bunker, remember to breathe. Instead of daydreaming about hiding, maybe focus on building resilience now. Learn practical skills, foster strong social connections, diversify your financial stability, and generally live a life that prepares you for any challenge, not just the one you can afford to hide from. But it makes sense when you vote for politicians who truly care about people and their future. Don’t vote for politicians who prioritize defense and strengthening their military arsenal. History shows that these leaders consistently fail, but only after causing significant suffering to the population.  In the face of a real global disaster, the harsh reality remains that there is no real way out. There is no real escape to a bunker, a spaceship, or anywhere else. 

Author: Sezgin Ismailov 

A Full Man Doesn't Believe a Hungry Man

Have you ever struggled to explain a challenging experience to someone who has never experienced anything remotely similar? Perhaps you were deeply worried about finances, and a friend with a trust fund kindly suggested, "Why don't you just save more?" Or perhaps you were battling a chronic illness, and someone perpetually healthy suggested you "just try thinking positively." In those moments, you probably felt a pang of frustration, thinking, "They just don't get it." "A full man does not believe a hungry man." It's a simple sentence, but its wisdom runs deep, touching on empathy, perspective, and the sometimes-invisible walls that separate our understanding of the world. First, let’s clarify that this proverb is not solely about someone who has eaten a large lunch and doubts the existence of someone who is literally starving.   This quote isn't just about someone with a full belly. It represents someone who enjoys a state of comfort, security, and privilege in various aspects of life. They might be financially stable, healthy, mentally sound, well-educated, or have a strong support system. They've rarely, if ever, had to truly struggle for their fundamental needs or face significant systemic barriers. Their "fullness" means they don't experience scarcity, fear, or profound lack. Conversely, the "hungry man" is someone experiencing genuine deprivation or hardship. Such destitution could be literal hunger but also includes financial insecurity, chronic illness, mental health struggles, lack of opportunities, discrimination, or living in an unstable environment. Their "hunger" signifies a deep-seated need, a constant struggle, or an awareness of limited resources that shapes their daily reality.  The core of the proverb is that it's incredibly difficult for someone living in a state of comfort  to truly grasp, or even believe, the stark realities and desperate needs of someone experiencing deprivation. Their comfortable reality makes the other's struggle seem alien, exaggerated, or even self-inflicted. This disconnect isn't necessarily because the "full man" is mean-spirited or intentionally dismissive. Often, it's a fundamental lack of shared experience. Our brains are wired to understand the world through our lens. If you've never had to worry about where your next meal comes from, it's difficult to internalize the paralyzing fear of food insecurity. If you've always had access to excellent healthcare, the concept of being unable to afford life-saving medication might seem like a distant, unbelievable horror. This lack of firsthand experience can lead to several things: Skepticism: "Is it really that bad?" Minimization: "They're just exaggerating." Blame: "They must have done something wrong to put themselves into that situation." Oversimplification: "Why don't they just obtain a better job/move/try harder?" It's easier for the comfortable mind to invent a simple explanation or dismiss the problem than to confront a reality that might be deeply uncomfortable or challenge their worldview. Imagine a multi-millionaire CEO who dismisses calls for a living wage, suggesting that minimum wage workers should rely on their own initiative. He may genuinely believe that anyone can achieve wealth if they work diligently enough, because that was his experience, perhaps forgetting inherited advantages or lucky breaks. Meanwhile, the worker struggling to pay rent and feed their family on poverty wages knows that "hard work" alone isn't always enough to overcome systemic barriers. The "full" owner simply cannot fathom the "hungry" worker's daily impossible choices. Someone who has always been robustly healthy might struggle to believe the severity of chronic pain, invisible illnesses like fibromyalgia or lupus, or the debilitating effects of long-term depression. They might offer well-intentioned but ultimately unhelpful advice like "just exercise more" or "you need a better attitude," because their own "fullness" of health prevents them from understanding the "hunger" for basic physical or mental well-being. Individuals who have never experienced racial discrimination, gender bias, or ableism might genuinely doubt the experiences of those who face these challenges daily. "Racism doesn't exist anymore," says the person who has never been judged by their skin color. "Women are treated equally," claims someone who has never faced workplace sexism. A student from a well-funded school district with ample resources, tutors, and extracurriculars might struggle to understand why a student from an underfunded, struggling school in a different neighborhood performs differently. They might attribute it to individual effort rather than the vast disparity in opportunities among their resources, blinding them to the need for basic educational support elsewhere. Understanding "A full man does not believe a hungry man" isn't just an intriguing observation; it's crucial for building a more empathetic and just society. When individuals in positions of power, influence, or comfort fail to acknowledge the realities faced by those who are struggling, it results in "full" people frequently devising solutions for "hungry" people; however, these solutions often fall short because they do not address the root causes or true impacts of deprivation. If struggles aren't believed, they aren't addressed, allowing cycles of poverty, illness, and discrimination to continue.  It creates a chasm of misunderstanding and resentment between different groups in society. If we dismiss someone's struggle, a beneficial first step might be to ask ourselves if our "fullness" is preventing us from truly hearing their "hunger." It challenges us to actively listen, to seek different perspectives, and to cultivate the empathy needed to bridge those understanding gaps, even when our experiences don't directly align. We can only start addressing their needs if we genuinely believe in the "hungry man." This just popped up in my mind because I see some people looking for money to conquer other planets. Others talk about how advanced artificial intelligence is and how everything will be great. Politicians discuss rearmament and cutting spending needed to improve lives. Others kill innocent people every day. Some call for the wars to stop; others call for us to provide them some food. And the reality is that half the world still does not have access to clean water. How many people really go to bed hungry is unknown, and others throw away food they bought and didn't use. Diverse individuals hold varying perspectives.

Author: Sezgin Ismailov