The Parking Lot Mirror

A Tale of Two Days

Yesterday, Tom was so close. His car’s battery was flashing a desperate warning, but he spotted the perfect parking space—right by the charging station. Phew, he thought, made it just in time. Fifty meters to go, one final turn, and he’d be set. The scent of rain hung in the air, and he could almost hear the hum of the charger kicking in. But as he rounded the corner, tires crunching, another car—a sleek SUV—swooped into his spot. Bold and unapologetic, it stole his moment.

“Damn it!” Tom muttered, hands tight on the wheel. “He beat me, that idiot!” The word slipped out, sharp with frustration. He pictured the other man—smug, careless, probably laughing as he walked away. It felt personal, like a small theft in the chaos of his day. The spot wasn’t just a spot; it was a moment of control he’d been chasing.

A Turn of Fortune

Today, the universe flipped the script for Tom. He pulled into the lot and spotted the perfect parking space—right by the charging station, open and waiting like a gift. He slid his car in, plugged the charger, and stepped out with a grin, savoring the small victory. As he walked away, he caught a glimpse of another car circling, its driver scanning for a space, just missing the one he’d claimed. A chuckle escaped him. “Ha! I beat him, sucker!”

The Hidden Reflection

But here’s the twist: the person who lost the spot yesterday and the one who won it today are both Tom. The “idiot” he cursed yesterday and the “sucker” he gloated over today are also him. In the heat of the moment, he didn’t see it. His mind carved the world into a battle of us versus them, winner versus loser, without pausing to notice the mirror staring back.

Where We Stumble

This is where we often stumble. Life moves fast, and we get caught in our own heads—our wants, our frustrations, our little battles. We see someone take our spot, cut us off, or disrupt our plans, and we assume we know their intent. They seem selfish, rude, against us. In psychology, this is called projection: we pin our own feelings, fears, or flaws onto someone else. Tom didn’t just see another man stealing his spot; he saw someone who didn’t care about him. And when he snagged the spot today, he didn’t just feel lucky—he felt like he’d triumphed, as if the other man’s loss was his gain.

A Philosophical Insight

Jiddu Krishnamurti, the philosopher, put it simply: “We are the world, and the world is us.” It suggests the lines we draw between ourselves and others aren’t as solid as we think. That other man who took Tom’s spot yesterday? He wasn’t some villain in his story. He was just another person, perhaps late for work or stressed about his own low battery, chasing his own version of that parking space. But in the moment, Tom couldn’t see it. He was too busy feeling cheated.

The Root of Conflict

This disconnect is the root of so much human conflict—big and small. We don’t see others as they are; we view them through our own lens. When our desires—what we want right now—dominate, we forget the principles that ground us. The most important? Recognizing others as ourselves. Tom wanted that spot, not just for the charger but for the ease it promised in a hectic day. Yesterday, he felt robbed. Today, he felt like the king of the lot. Both times, he missed the bigger picture: the other man was just another version of him, navigating the same messy, human struggle.

A Shift in Perspective

What if Tom had paused yesterday, taken a deep breath, and thought, Maybe he’s just having a rough day, too? What if today, instead of chuckling, he’d glanced at that circling car and remembered how it felt to lose the spot? It’s not about giving up what he needs or being a pushover. It’s about seeing the man in the other car as someone like him—flawed, trying, human.

The Power of Projection

Projection is subtle and pervasive. It’s not just about parking lots; it’s the coworker who “always” slacks off, the stranger who “rudely” bumps into us, the friend who “obviously” meant to slight us. We assume we know their intent, but we’re often just seeing our own frustrations reflected back. The driver who cut us off might be rushing to pick up a sick child. The coworker might be drowning in stress we can’t see. We don’t know their story, but we can assume it’s as complex as ours.

A Path to Awareness

Unlearning this habit begins with awareness. We can catch ourselves when we’re quick to judge—when we’re ready to label someone an idiot or a sucker. We can ask, What are we feeling right now? Are we seeing him, or are we seeing ourselves? It’s not about perfection; it’s about staying awake. Krishnamurti’s idea isn’t abstract philosophy—it’s a call to look closer. The world isn’t just out there; it’s within us. Every person we encounter, every small clash, is a chance to see ourselves more clearly.

A Call to Pause

So, next time we’re circling for a spot—or waiting for a promotion, or arguing with a friend—let’s pause. Let’s smile at the chaos of it all. That person in our way? He’s not our enemy. He’s us, in a different moment, trying to find his own place to land.

Dissolving Hate - The First Step!

By Citizen KK

What did I come with?

What do I go with?

Who am I?

These questions may sound cliché because of the superficial way they’re often thrown around. That very superficiality affects our emotions—we tend to dismiss or even feel repulsed by people who toss these questions casually into conversation.

Yet they remain profound—for a willing soul who dares to go beyond attachments and prejudices, who is open to questioning itself and being questioned by others.

Long ago, we believed the world was flat.

Now we don’t—not because each of us has flown high enough to see the Earth’s curve, but because we trust scientific methods, instruments, and the data they reveal.

We accept that the Earth rotates at great speed, even though we don’t feel it—because everything moves with us in seamless motion.

And then there’s gravity. The mystery that keeps us grounded.

These fun facts may not be essential for day-to-day survival.

But some truths are:

Do no harm.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

We don’t know when we’ll leave this Earth.

We don’t know when death will come.

But we do know, deeply and immediately, what it means to be harmed—and to harm.

What it means to be treated with kindness—and to be kind.

Yet we fail to learn that lesson.

What does any group of people want?

Any race, religion, or political ideology?

Survival. Growth. Freedom.

Essentially—isn’t it?

Aside from a small fraction of humanity struggling with deep psychological distress, don’t we all share these basic longings?

We simply believe that our way—our method, our ideology—best serves those values.

And then comes the dangerous whisper:

“If I can make the world like me, then I will be safe.

If I get what I want, then I will be okay.”

Such beliefs—buried under layers of social custom and denial—become seeds of hate.

Our emotional intolerance to unmet expectations nurtures those seeds as we grow.

People begin to feel that others must be converted—or eliminated—for their own safety.

WE ENJOY THE FRUITS OF DIVERSITY WHEN THEY ENTERTAIN OR BENEFIT US

But when those same differences challenge our wants—or our egos—hell breaks loose.

Why?

Why is it so easy to convince ourselves that our survival is at stake—so much so that another’s existence becomes a threat?

Sometimes, it’s true.

Sometimes, the other is dangerous.

But even then—

What is the approach that excludes annihilation?

What becomes possible when we refuse to destroy?

Who am I?

Who are we?

As long as we define ourselves solely by the body—or the image we’ve constructed—it’s impossible to reach escape velocity from the gravity of hate.

As long as we let the mind confuse our wants with needs, we remain trapped.

Need ≠ Want

Need is about the body’s survival.

But our minds exaggerate emotion—especially fear—and tell us we “need” things that are simply wants.

And when we don’t get those wants, the frustration curdles into hate.

With modern metaphors, it becomes easier to see that the body and mind are not who we truly are.

Think of a motor: when there’s no electricity, it doesn’t function. The mind is like the spinning mechanism of the motor—active, noisy, purposeful. The body is the physical casing that houses it.

But it’s life, like electricity, that animates both.

When life leaves the body, the mind ceases to function.

The mind depends on the body as its medium.

So then—is life the real self?

It’s easy to see that we are not our bodies—they grow, change, and decay.

The same is true of our minds—they evolve, distort, and fluctuate.

Truth is simple.

But to live that truth, while resisting the seductive, cunning voices of the mind - that’s not so simple.

We’ve trained our minds to protect comfort at all costs.

To shield the fragile identities we’ve built.

And in doing so, we’ve made it hard to live with openness, with ease, with love.

But here’s the good news:

Merely acknowledging that we have this struggle… is the definitive first step.

Shall we take it together?