Blog

The fire crackled softly as Emil stared into the dancing flames. A distant siren wailed in the city beyond the hills. Tension hung in the air like smoke—another protest, another clash. The world felt loud, angry, and unyielding.

“Grandfather,” Emil said, his voice tight, “why does everything feel so extreme? People are either shouting for justice or shutting down those who are.”

Grandfather gently poured tea into two cups and handed one to Emil.

“Extremism,” he said calmly, “is often born from real wounds—oppression, loss, injustice. When people are stripped of their rights, when their dignity is trampled, when their very identity feels under siege, anger begins to burn.”

He pointed toward the fire. “It begins as a small flame of pain. But if no one listens, if dignity isn’t restored, it grows—becomes a wildfire. And sometimes, even those with good intentions fan the flames without realizing it.”

Emil frowned. “But aren’t they just fighting for what’s right?”

“Yes,” Grandfather nodded. “The cry for justice is valid. Always. But justice isn’t a solo instrument—it’s part of a symphony. You cannot blow your horn so loudly that it drowns out ten others. That’s not justice—it’s imbalance.”

He paused and sipped his tea.

“Imagine a man who demands freedom for his people, but in doing so, he silences another community. Or a group that rises against tyranny, only to become tyrants to others in the name of ideology. That’s how even noble causes, when turned into rigid ‘isms’, can become harmful.”

Emil shifted. “But how do you stop that?”

“You start by remembering we live among others. No cause exists in a vacuum. We are interdependent—like a forest where trees share roots beneath the soil. Uproot one without care, and you disturb many.”

He leaned in.

“The pursuit of one justice must not blind you to ten injustices you may cause along the way. Always check your fire. Is it warming others—or burning bridges?”

Emil looked back at the flames, his reflection flickering in the glass.

“So justice needs both courage and restraint?”

Grandfather smiled. “Yes. Justice is not only about standing up—it’s about looking around. It’s about healing without harming. It’s about choosing balance over blinding rage.”

He handed Emil a thick journal.

“Here—start writing your thoughts, not just your feelings. Let reason temper your passion. That’s how we build a better world, one word—and one wound—at a time.”