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At the height of summer, at the end of a day of kids in the pool and cupcake-eating while grown-ups sipped glasses of chilled wine in celebration of our child鈥檚 birthday, I stood in our backyard hugging our freshly turned 10-year-old. The sun was down, the party guests had left, and my child began asking me questions I couldn鈥檛 answer鈥�Why do grown-ups like to drink wine? Why do you hug me so much? What do you remember about being 10?鈥�when a bright light appeared just over the roof of our house. It was as big as the biggest full moon we鈥檇 ever seen and as bright as a spotlight from a film set. The glow was so intense that the light鈥檚 source was undetectable.

鈥淚s that a helicopter?鈥� I wondered.

鈥淵eah. I think it鈥檚 a helicopter,鈥� said my child, with arms still wrapped around me, as the glowing light passed from east to west, moving along the peak of the roof.

鈥淏ut I don鈥檛 hear anything. No blades. No chop. No voices,鈥� except our own as we looked to the sky trying to understand what we were seeing.

鈥淭hen I think it鈥檚 from outer space,鈥� my child said.

鈥淵eah, maybe,鈥� I replied, curious, but believing for a moment that perhaps it could be a spaceship, while holding my 10-year-old tight and watching the now-blue-green-white ball disappear after about five seconds. It slipped behind the blackness of our neighbor鈥檚 silhouetted tree and vanished.

鈥淲here鈥檇 it go?鈥� I asked out loud.

They shrugged. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know.鈥�

鈥淚鈥檓 so confused. I鈥檝e never seen anything like that.鈥�

The reply: 鈥淢e either.鈥� She then untangled from my embrace, adding, 鈥淐an I have another cupcake?鈥� 

The glowing light was gone. The questions were done. The trying to understand something that made no sense was over.

While not all of us have been faced with wondering if they鈥檝e just seen a UFO, we鈥檙e each faced, daily, with things that don鈥檛 make sense, especially in our political climate. We鈥檙e confronted with the reality that people are denied the right to make decisions about their own bodies; that children can fall victim to gun violence in their classrooms; that our planet is being ravaged by climate catastrophes; that an angry mob can violently try to overthrow this country鈥檚 peaceful transition of leadership.

In these bewildering times, all the things we don鈥檛 understand can feel surreal and uncomfortable鈥攇enerating a tidal wave of confusion and anxiety that could make one shut down and get a cupcake. 

But have we been trained to believe that it鈥檚 easier to shut down than to try to understand what might be frightening? Are we losing our ability to make sense of things that we don鈥檛 want to make sense of? Does flinching at new information that veers from our sense of truth bring too much discomfort?

If true, we risk missing information and insights that could inform progress. But instead of shutting down, we might consider these three ways of staying open to new ideas and information, even disconcerting ones.

Pay Attention to Discomfort

Ever do something that doesn鈥檛 make sense to you? Little things, like having a milkshake even when you know you are lactose intolerant. Or not flossing daily even though you know that flossing is essential to good oral health. We all do. In the field of psychology, this phenomenon is referred to as cognitive dissonance. I like to think of it as: 鈥渨hen-your-beliefs-don鈥檛-align-with-your-actions-and-you-know-it.鈥�

In 1957, , the psychologist who coined the term cognitive dissonance, observed that people want their attitudes and behaviors to align because, well鈥攑eople generally don鈥檛 like the discomfort that comes with self-contradiction. Yet it is the cognitive part of cognitive dissonance that causes the discomfort. In other words, we鈥檙e only uncomfortable when we鈥檙e cognizant of the self-contradiction. This awareness can trigger anxiety, which can prompt us to steer clear of certain conversations or settings to avoid the discomfort that comes with internal contradiction.

But here鈥檚 the thing: Avoiding the discomfort can interfere with how we manage contradictions within ourselves, and with those around us. If we don鈥檛 integrate competing beliefs, we鈥檒l get stuck where we are and diminish our capacity for progress. This avoidance will perpetuate the behaviors that don鈥檛 align with our beliefs. And if we don鈥檛 exercise that contradiction muscle, it will atrophy. 

As Austin-based family therapist  recently explained to me, 鈥淐onflicting beliefs can lead to conflicting behaviors.鈥� Specifically, 鈥淚f we don鈥檛 give ourselves internal permission to stand by our choices, we may waffle when faced with the discomfort.鈥� Locklear gave me the following example: 鈥淚f I chose to abstain from drinking, but am aware of my friends鈥� expectation that I partake, I might choose to drink when I experience discomfort at a party.鈥�

Since we all experience cognitive dissonance, the phenomenon provides us with a collective opportunity to exercise this contradiction muscle in small, low-stake ways. This isn鈥檛 a call to floss daily (though, you should!), but rather to bring our attention to the reasons we choose not to floss. Such a thought exercise can be a means of strengthening our ability to resolve inner and outer conflicts in preparation for bigger challenges.

In some instances of cognitive dissonance鈥擨 should avoid extra calories and this ice cream tastes so good鈥攚e double down and finish the entire pint, avoiding that part of your brain you don鈥檛 want to hear. Or you eat a cupcake because you don鈥檛 want to face the terrifying idea that you might have just been visited by aliens. Or maybe you storm the U.S. capitol buildings, doubling down because part of you believes that the elections were not rigged even if you outwardly say they were. 

In other words, in order to align our actions with our beliefs, we go out of our way to reduce discomfort of contradiction either by refusing to accept the evidence (doubling down), or changing our views to be consistent with the evidence. Either way, the efforts we make to avoid the discomfort associated with the dissonance change our attitudes and reshape our truths鈥攚hich, as it turns out, is not as hard as we would like to believe.

Trust That Truth Can Be Slippery

Many of us hold fast to the idea that 鈥渢ruth鈥� is synonymous with 鈥渃orrect,鈥� that true is the opposite of false, and this undergirds our understanding of 鈥渞ight鈥� and 鈥渨rong.鈥� But consider this very old idea: What if 鈥渢ruth鈥� actually means something different? 

According to , the word truth is derived from the Old English word 迟谤颈别飞冒, which meant to be loyal or faithful. 鈥淭o be true鈥濃�攁s in, to remain committed to a person, idea, or an attitude. The idea that something is true, as in factually correct, only appeared in the mid 1500s. But in 1952, assembling under the banner of the oldest sense of the word truth, a group of people calling themselves the Truth Squad trailed presidential hopeful Harry Truman on a whistle-stop tour to denounce what they called 鈥�.鈥� Because Truman had veered away from generally accepted ideas and attitudes, the squad saw him as being untrue鈥攚hich is not the same, but is often confused, with an untruth, or a lie. In essence, though, the Truth Squad had conflated the meanings.

In this day and age of fake-news politics, what if the emotional divisiveness surrounding truth and lies is simply the discomfort that comes with progress and less about a fight over facts? If we loosen our grip on the idea that truths are always facts, and instead accept that some things feel true to some and false to others, we make space for co-existing truths, and can push beyond division, toward progress.

That said, as historian , author of Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong, said, 鈥淧eople have a right to their own opinions but not to their own facts.鈥�

Instead of doubling down to make our actions fit our beliefs, verifiable facts can help us adjust our beliefs to accommodate what we know to be true. Verifiable facts can allow us to converge toward common truths. Otherwise, we鈥檒l continue to live on different planes of reality鈥攚here we鈥檒l continue to experience the discomfort of delusion.

Know That Fireballs Are Real, but May Not Be What You Think

Some might think that pondering a visit from outer space is delusional. But the big blue light in our backyard was, in fact, real. It was not a UFO. However, it was confirmed to be  the size of a car entering the Earth鈥檚 atmosphere. It turns out, our discomfort with trying to understand what we were seeing robbed us of the opportunity of knowing that we were witnessing something pretty special. It was easier to walk away from something that made no sense and covet a cupcake for comfort, than to marvel at the verifiable fact that we were seeing something from outer space.

I only learned the details of the strange sighting three days after the event when a news alert about a giant fireball over Texas grabbed my eye. But I didn鈥檛 connect the splashy headline to what my child and I had seen until I read the story and learned that the date and time of the exploding fireball aligned with our backyard hug. Which is to say I still might not have believed that I saw a huge glowing light silently glide over my home if I couldn鈥檛 verify the event. And I would鈥檝e missed a range of truths鈥攖hat what I was seeing was real, even if it made no sense. That what I was seeing was otherworldly. That my child was right.

To be clear, I鈥檓 not suggesting that divisiveness is merely overcome by picking at our discomfort and questioning reality. I am an introverted person managing PTSD, so I get the value of relying on truths that make sense to me. Truths that help me feel protected and safe. But paying attention to our individual roles in this collective upheaval鈥攈ow we manage our own truths鈥攊s something within our control, when everything seems out of control. I also know that polarization weakens our ability to find the solutions to the various ills that confound our society.

And in an era of WTF-is-going-on, paying attention to the discomfort, knowing that truth is slippery and anything is possible, might give us the answers we seek.