A Moment of Light and Compassion
Recently, I was sitting down with my parents, just having a normal conversation. My parents were talking about how ambitious I was as I was starting my corporate career where I spent two decades. I recalled my younger days and the delusions that can come with youth, a light seemed to flick on in my mind. It wasn’t a literal light, of course, but a sudden clarity about some beliefs from youth that I had always assumed to be true. I believed at the time that being successful in the corporate world was the most important thing and I was judging family and friends and the world in general based on this narrative.
In that moment, I was able to clearly see a rush of compassion for myself. I saw a younger version of me, frozen in time, clinging to this belief, using it as a lens through which I had viewed my life. This part of me was unknowingly stuck, seeing the world through a filter that had become a constant companion. The belief, however, was based on a delusion, and yet I was not able to see it. I hadn’t questioned it. I simply believed it. And then, in that single moment of insight, I recognized that I’d been living with this narrative, convinced it was the truth, without ever suspecting it. There was something heartbreakingly lovely about how genuinely I had believed in that perception. I was deluded, but I had never known it. I just believed in this narrative about myself and the world around me, and I believed it as purely as a child believes in the reality of their imagination.
As I sat there, still contemplating on this insight, another thought emerged: this is not just my story. It is the same for so many people. We all carry these delusions, narratives we cling to as truth. Each of us is attached to these ideas that shape our lives, and we hold onto them. I began to realize that for someone who is deluded, there really is no other truth than what we believe. It doesn’t matter if that belief is irrational or even harmful; it becomes our reality. They believe it wholeheartedly, just as I had believed mine.
The idea of judging someone else for any reason is a kind of delusion in itself. To judge someone for any reason suggests that I am somehow above them, that I see clearly while they do not. This is simply a reflection of my own attachments. But isn’t that just another narrative? Isn’t that just a hidden form of pride—a belief that I am somehow “better” because I see something they don’t? In that moment, I realized that judging someone else’s beliefs or delusions is simply layering my own narrative on top of theirs.
Our teachers speak of delusion, which clouds our perception. We suffer not because of the world itself, but because of our minds attaching meanings to a constant flow of narratives. We attach to concepts such as self, success, or failure, and these attachments keep us in cycles of suffering. By seeing through the delusion, by recognizing our own delusions, we open the door to wisdom. In that moment of seeing, and truly understanding, there’s nothing left to judge.
In that moment of insight, I felt a release from my own judgment of others. To see my own delusion clearly was a gift. I recognized that judging someone for any reason is also a delusion, because we all carry our narratives, and we all believe them fully because we are attached to them. It’s just part of being human. Wisdom arises not because we know “better” or “more,” but when we understand that each person’s truth is just as real and powerful to them as mine is to me. When we observe our minds and notice traces of pride and other delusions, we can cultivate wisdom. Wisdom in a way, arises when we see ourselves and others clearly and, in that clear seeing, compassion and love appear.
In grace,
Selin Uluer
28 January 2025