Introduction:

In the face of persistent narratives and judgments, it can be tempting to engage in direct, confrontational resistance. However, I have come to believe that such resistance is often futile and can lead to increased scrutiny and emotional exhaustion. In this blog post, I will explore the limitations of futile resistance and propose an alternative approach: mindful transcendence and creativity as a strategic path forward.

I. The Power of Narrative:

Narratives shape our understanding of the world and influence our perceptions of ourselves and others. They can be powerful tools for creating meaning and connection, but they can also be used to perpetuate stereotypes, biases, and injustices.

It is important to recognise that narratives are not neutral or objective. They are constructed by individuals and institutions with their own agendas and perspectives. As such, they are always subject to interpretation and revision.

II. The Allure of Direct Resistance:

When faced with a narrative that we believe is false or harmful, our first instinct may be to directly challenge it. We may try to argue against it, to present evidence to the contrary, or to confront those who promote it.

Direct resistance can be a powerful tool for raising awareness and challenging injustice. However, it can also be exhausting and counterproductive. It can lead to increased scrutiny, further polarisation, and emotional burnout.

III. The Limitations of Futile Resistance:

One of the most important aspects of my theological and philosophical views is the importance of agency. I believe that people must be free to choose what they believe, no matter the cost or what that may look like. This doesn’t negate responsibility or implications; rather, it means we must respect people’s freedom for their own agency. Maturation, the seeking of truth, and the pursuit of understanding, wisdom, and growth are embedded in agency — in people’s competence and capacity to endeavour to find out for themselves what is true or what is possible.

Because of this view, I must allow people the freedom to see what has been said about me and to make their own judgments, no matter how harsh or uncomfortable that may be. Agency requires me to turn around and say, ‘Judge me as you will.’ I cannot, nor will I, buy into the idea that it’s my responsibility to force my narrative onto somebody else’s agency.

This doesn’t mean I am passive or indifferent to the narratives that exist about me. It simply means that I choose to engage with those narratives in a way that respects the agency of others. For example, I have been in conversations with people who hold views that I strongly disagree with. In such cases, I choose to discuss the underlying assumptions and narratives that inform their perspectives, seeking to provide them with an opportunity to rethink their beliefs, while still respecting their autonomy.

Ultimately, I have come to realise that direct, confrontational resistance against the overarching narrative is often futile. It can lead to increased scrutiny, further polarisation, and emotional exhaustion. Instead, I believe that a more strategic and effective approach is to focus on what I can control: my own actions, my own choices, and my own path forward. I remember sitting with several psychologists, which was required as part of my processing towards parole. Each of them said something to me which really helped me reshape my understanding of reality: ‘It is not your responsibility to carry the emotional choices that somebody else has made. Your emotions are your emotions, their emotions are their emotions. All you are responsible for are your choices, your emotions, and nobody else’s.’

IV. Mindful Transcendence and Creativity as Resistance:

As I considered over the last few years, how I would choose to live the rest of my life, both in prison and through the book that I’ve written and published, I came to a conclusion: the only way forward was to mindfully transcend the darkness of people’s opinions and views of me, and to use creativity as a form of resistance. I cannot, nor will I, put the effort into changing people’s opinions of me. If people choose to believe what they believe, so be it. I celebrate people’s autonomy and freedom. But I am still left with what I can do.

I have discovered that the best thing I can do is to continue doing what is authentically myself: to share my thinking, to write, to be creative, and to express my ideas and my personhood through writing. Words are the most beautiful thing in the world. They capture the essence of people, the beauty and vistas about us. They strike at the heart of what matters and poetically excuse what doesn’t. They see a lot in silence, but also a lot in themselves. To me, words are a natural part of who I am as a person — where we get words from, what they mean, how they click together, what sense they make.

All of this is part of what I mean by mindful transcendence and creativity as resistance: to mindfully choose to transcend that which could drag me down, to move upwardly to a better way of thinking and being, and then to express the creativity of thought and ideas I have. There is my resistance to the narrative set. There is my standing firm.

For example, I chose to include a poetry section in my book, featuring poems I wrote while in prison. I’ve also taken some of those poems and created YouTube clips. Through poetry, I was able to channel the raw emotions and experiences I went through. It didn’t matter if people chose to listen or not; what mattered was that I enjoyed the process of saying what I felt needed to be seen. I was able to express something of what I had gone through, both in the act of writing the poems in prison and in creating a media-based way of expressing them after my release.

V. The Power of Influence and Inspiration:

Through my own experiences of being judged and of judging others without knowing the full story, I’ve come to recognise how easy it is to fall into the trap of reductionism and simply run with a narrative. It’s a common human tendency. That’s why, when it comes to the power of influence and inspiration, my primary goal is to reach out to those who have felt silenced or squeezed into a narrative that doesn’t reflect their true selves.

I want to encourage them to resist in their own unique and transcendent way, to choose to move forward even when it’s difficult. This means accepting that some people will dislike, distrust, or even despise you. But even the most popular people face hatred, so it’s an unavoidable part of the human experience. My hope is that my story will inspire others to rethink the futility they feel trapped in and to find the courage to push forward, even when it’s not the easy path. In fact, I believe it’s the only path.

Conclusion:

I acknowledge that my efforts may not lead to fame or popularity, and that I am comfortable with being a relatively unnoticed voice. I value authenticity and agency over public approval, and I am content with having a small but engaged audience.

Ultimately, I appreciate that death is the great silencer of narrative. In death, all narratives are forgotten, and individuals pass away into the echo of history, lost in the sound of the infinite. In that reasoning, all that we have is the moment that we exist in — our thoughts, our agency, our authenticity. All we have is the here and now, the embeddedness of the moment.

And so I choose to live in that knowing, aware that eventually I shall return, as indeed all of us will, to dust. The good news, from my perspective, is that justice is in the mind of God, not in the hands of human narrative.