The Crisis of Judgment Against the “Woke”: A Call for Cultural and Spiritual Reflection

Note: I am not a member of any Christian church and I do not profess allegiance to modern Christianity and it’s doctrines, nor have I since 1987. This blog is written from the vantage point of a concerned observer of our culture and religious faith, while I travel upon my non-traditional spiritual path.

The Crisis of Judgment Against the “Woke”: A Call for Cultural and Spiritual Reflection

Labels are powerful. They can uplift and unite, but they can silence and divide equally. Nowhere is this clearer than in the weaponization of the term “woke.” Once intended to acknowledge systemic injustices in our society and the people who have risen up to confront them, it has been twisted into a pejorative—a rhetorical bludgeon to dismiss, mock, and invalidate efforts toward progress.

But what lies beneath this judgment against those deemed “woke”? And what does it say about us as a society and, more importantly, as spiritual beings?  Trump’s proposed new Secretary of Defense, Pete Hegseth, has declared that he will remove all “woke” members from our military establishment. Military leaders are rattled by a list of “woke” senior officers that a conservative group urged Hegseth to dismiss for promoting diversity in the ranks if he is confirmed to lead the Pentagon.

Another of Trump’s cronies, Ramaswamy, is another anti-woke member. In February 2020, Ramaswamy wrote an op-ed in The Wall Street Journal in which he argued that society created businesses to cover basic needs, not to promote social values held “by a small group of people.” So began his crusade against ESG criteria (which encompasses factors related to environmental sustainability, social impact, and governance practices) and the “woke movement,” which he has excoriated in several books. His convictions led him to start his own “anti-woke” investment fund with the moniker WhiteStone.

Our nephew has called my wife Sharon and I “lib-tards” (liberals-retarded) for promoting equal economic rights and justice for all.  Sharon’s son has faced judgment from his wife and in-laws for standing up for what he knows to be correct.  His reward was to be branded “woke” like it was a derogatory state of mind, rather than an acknowledment of the social evolution and spiritual growth that, in truth, the name represents.

To put it plainly, such judgment reveals an unsettling resistance to growth, a clinging to the comfort of an outdated status quo, and even a betrayal of the moral and spiritual tenets many claim to hold dear.

When did compassion and the pursuit of justice become an act of subversion? To be “woke” in its truest sense is to open one’s eyes—to confront uncomfortable truths about inequality, racism, sexism, and other systemic ills that persist. And yet, for many, this awakening is seen not as enlightenment but as a threat.

The term has become a modern scarlet letter, slung as an insult to dismiss any effort to address social inequities, as though doing so is dangerous.

But ask yourself, what is at the root of this resistance?

Fear

• Fear of what unsettling truths may emerge.
• Fear of losing privilege or comfort
• Fear that whispers it’s easier to mock change than to make it.

When we judge “woke” individuals, we do more than reject their calls for change. We are refusing to evolve. Judging from a place of dismissal allows the status quo to remain unchallenged. Worse, it gives tacit permission to ignore or perpetuate behaviors that harm individuals and society. This stagnation traps us in a culture desperately clutching at outdated norms while the future waits for us to align ourselves with justice and equity.

Progress—actual progress—demands discomfort. It asks us to look within and confront our biases and beliefs. To cling to the judgment of others instead of reflecting on our role in systemic issues is to reject that sacred growth.

Nowhere is this resistance to change more perplexing than in the politicization of Christianity. Increasingly, certain factions within the faith—those aligning themselves under the banner of “anti-woke”—actively rebel against the teachings of Jesus Christ. 

Jesus’s message was revolutionary in its love and inclusiveness. It was a call to serve “the least of these,” to pursue justice, and to love one another unconditionally. Yet, these teachings are being supplanted by rhetoric steeped in fear, exclusion, and outright judgment. How did a faith centered on compassion become a tool to uphold intolerance?

This departure is tragic on many levels, but most profoundly, it represents an abandonment of the courage Jesus of Nazareth demanded of his followers. To follow in those footsteps is not to espouse judgment or superiority. It is to seek understanding, dismantle oppression frameworks, and hold a mirror up to oneself with honesty and humility.

Critics often accuse woke culture of pandering to political correctness, but in truth, it is far from superficial. It is about cultivating an awakening—a deep awareness and acknowledgment of the systemic structures perpetuating injustice.

To reject such awareness is to deny the reality of those who live on the receiving end of inequities. It is to turn away from the suffering of fellow human beings. Being “woke” is nothing more complex than being attuned to this suffering and willing to act in the face of it. And yet, for some, it is easier to brand such an effort as misguided than to pause and critically examine their complicity in these systems.

The path forward is not more judgment, not more rhetoric. It is dialogue, curiosity, and humility. Imagine for a moment what would happen if, instead of dismissing so-called woke individuals, we chose to listen.

Listening doesn’t demand agreement, but it asks us to reflect. It asks us to understand the histories and perspectives that shape another’s beliefs. It asks us to engage. Only then can empathy grow, and only empathy can build a culture founded on compassion and justice.

It is easy to dismiss. It is easy to judge. What is hard—and necessary—is to look inward and ask, “Am I contributing to progress or standing silently in the way?”

If you hold judgment in your heart for those advocating for change, I invite you to ask why. What part of yourself wants to cling to this disdain? What truth are you avoiding?

History shows us that progress is inevitable. Civil rights movements—past and present—have always been met with resistance. But those who fought for inclusion, equity, and love were proven right at every turning point. They were the real agents of growth, the ones who challenged society to become better and to live closer to its professed ideals.

To stand in judgment against those advocating for a better world is to align oneself with a dying past. This faltering status quo cannot withstand the tide of awakened humanity. Perhaps it is time to choose evolution over resistance, curiosity over judgment, and compassion over fear.

As Jesus taught, “Judge not, that you be not judged” (Matthew 7:1). Will we continue to rebel against this divine wisdom? Or will we choose to participate in the unfolding of a kinder, more equitable world?

The choice rests with each of us.

 

No More Turning Away: Confronting the Conspiracy of Silence

In our fast-paced world, it is all too easy to turn away from the suffering of others. Yet, we must confront this tendency and the broader “conspiracy of silence” that pervades our society. This silence, this refusal to acknowledge the pain of the pale and downtrodden, is not just a passive act; it is a form of complicity. By doing nothing, we become part of the problem.

We are all interconnected. The suffering of one individual or community affects us all, whether we realize it or not. It’s a ripple effect that can lead to further marginalization or collective healing and progress. Our societal responsibility extends beyond mere acknowledgment; it encompasses active engagement and empathetic action.

The conspiracy of silence is not a new phenomenon, but its modern manifestations are particularly insidious. In an era where information is at our fingertips, indifference has become troubling. We scroll past images of suffering, tune out news of injustice, and isolate ourselves within echo chambers that reinforce our biases. This collective turning away is a decision—a choice to remain uninvolved, to avoid discomfort, and to shroud our lives in a comforting veil of ignorance.

The cost of this apathy is profound. When we turn away from social issues, we erode the very fabric of human empathy. This erosion affects not only the marginalized but also the indifferent. Apathy breeds isolation, both individually and collectively. Economically, it perpetuates cycles of poverty and inequality, stifling innovation and progress. Socially, it creates divides that are increasingly difficult to bridge.

We must adopt innovative approaches that foster engagement and solidarity to counteract this pervasive silence. Here are some ways to break the silence and take meaningful action:

1. Education and Awareness

Education is the first step towards empathy. Schools, community centers, and online platforms should prioritize teaching the importance of social responsibility and the interconnectedness of human experiences. Awareness campaigns can highlight the stories of the weak and the weary, making their struggles visible and undeniable.

2. Community Engagement

Building strong, supportive communities can counteract the effects of isolation and indifference. Local initiatives encouraging volunteering, mentorship, and grassroots activism create spaces where individuals can connect and collaborate on solutions to social issues.

3. Policy Advocacy

Advocating for policies that address the root causes of suffering—such as poverty, discrimination, and lack of access to education and healthcare—is crucial. Engaging with policymakers, supporting relevant legislation, and participating in public discourse can drive systemic change.

4. Leveraging Technology

Technology can be a powerful tool for fostering empathy and action. Social media campaigns, virtual reality experiences, and online platforms for activism can bring distant issues closer to home, making them more immediate and personal.

Many individuals and organizations have successfully challenged the status quo of indifference. For instance, organizations like Doctors Without Borders and Amnesty International tirelessly work to bring attention to and alleviate suffering worldwide. Movements like #BlackLivesMatter have galvanized millions to stand against racial injustice. These examples show that change is possible when we refuse to turn away.

There is a dream—a vision of a world where we no longer turn away from injustice, suffering, or the cries of the weary. This dream is not an impossible one. It is within reach, but realizing it requires more than fleeting acts of kindness or empty words of solidarity. It demands a collective awakening, a profound shift in our consciousness, and an unwavering commitment to dismantle the conspiracy of silence.

Too often, we have stood and stared as passive spectators to the suffering of others. This indifference, rooted in fear, convenience, or apathy, becomes the fertile soil where injustice thrives. Yet, inaction carries a cost. Every moment we turn away, we deny our shared humanity and erect barriers between ourselves and the hope of a just world. The time has come to break the shroud of indifference and to light the flame of extraordinary change.

Silence, far from being neutral, is often complicit. If we find ourselves uncomfortable in the face of another’s suffering, it may reveal how deeply we have bought into the false narrative of separation. But the truth—and the reality we must grapple with—is that we are interconnected. What harms one, harms all. What uplifts one, uplifts all.

The conspiracy of silence, this wilful inertia, protects systems of oppression and allows suffering to perpetuate unchecked. Breaking this silence begins with acknowledging that we are not mere bystanders in life; we are active participants in the vast, interconnected web of existence. The question is not whether our actions matter—because they most certainly do—but whether we will choose to act or shrink into the safe shadows of complacency.

We face a sacred responsibility as human beings. The weight of this responsibility is not a burden but a calling—an invitation to lean into the world’s wounds with courage and compassion. Justice and empathy do not emerge from isolation; they are born in the recognition that we need one another to truly grow, to thrive, and to heal.

This shared responsibility is the foundation for a just society. When we choose to stand together, when we see our struggles reflected in another’s eyes, when we move beyond divisions and false separations, we become more than ourselves. We become the voice, the hands, and the heart of a collective force that refuses to accept suffering as an inevitability.

Empathy alone is not enough. While the seed of change is planted in awareness and compassion, it must be nurtured by meaningful action. Engagement, education, and advocacy must become more than ideals; they must become our daily practices.

Educate yourself on the struggles of those who are marginalized and ignored. Share their stories. Advocate for policies that dismantle systemic injustice. Use your resources—time, talent, or finances—to create ripples of change. These actions matter. Collectively, they form a tide that will eventually shift the world.

Indifference, though pervasive, is not undefeatable. It’s a habit of mind that can be unlearned when we cultivate a deeper sense of responsibility to one another. When we choose to look at suffering not as an inconvenience, but as a call for transformation, we take the first step toward lighting that flame of change.

Why do I care so deeply about this? Because I know what it is to live in a world that turns away. When I was younger, countless faces looked past me when I needed help the most. To feel unseen, unheard, and unsupported—those experiences left marks upon my soul.

And yet, those marks transformed into something precious. The world, in all its flaws and beauty, became my foundation. It is why I can never turn away, not now, not ever. This is my blessing, but it’s also my curse. To feel this deeply is to bear a responsibility I cannot ignore.

But this is not just my fight. It is ours. The dream of a world where justice and compassion prevail begins with us.

If you take nothing else away from this, know that every small action matters. The world doesn’t change overnight, but it does change moment by moment, choice by choice. Justice is not inevitable; it is forged by those who refuse to turn away.

What will your choice be? Will you stare and remain silent, or will you awaken to your compassionate calling? Together, united in action and empathy, we can transform the dream into reality. Together, we can ensure that the weak and the weary are no longer ignored but heard, supported, and uplifted.

To awaken to our human potential means that there will be

No More Turning Away.

And, that we will tend to our spiritual gardens like all of life depends upon our successful harvest,

For It Does.

On The Turning Away, by Pink Floyd

It’s a sin that somehow
Light is changing to shadow
And casting its shroud
Over all, we have known
Unaware how the ranks have grown
Driven on by a heart of stone
We could find that we’re all alone
In the dream of the proud

On the wings of the night
As the daytime is stirring
Where the speechless unite
In a silent accord
Using words you will find are strange
Mesmerized as they light the flame
Feel the new wind of change
On the wings of the night

No More Turning Away:  The Quiet Power of Compassion 

It is easy to grow weary in the presence of suffering. For mental health professionals, caregivers, and those within the community who seek to support others, the weight of engaging with the severely mentally ill, the profoundly resistant to healing, or the chronically spiraling can feel daunting. How do we, as individuals, as practitioners, and as members of a broader collective, maintain our resolve and humanity in the face of despair that appears insurmountable or change that feels unattainable? Why spend our time, energy, and patience on those who stubbornly close the door to progress? These questions simmer through the minds of many, often fueling frustration, burnout, and a sense of futility.

But perhaps the answer begins not in their stubbornness or pain but in our capacity—our quiet and internal ability to embody compassion.

It is tempting to view the severely mentally ill or those lost in their resistance to growth as disconnected from us, as separate beings with whom we have no shared ground. This perception, however, is a construct shaped by our experiences. For those of us raised within the safety of emotionally and spiritually healthy homes, empathy often flows with ease toward those whose struggles seem familiar or relatable. Yet, there exists an innate facet of our being, untouched by our personal histories, that compels us toward compassion even when empathy falters—a part of us that transcends the personal and bridges into the universal.

Compassion, unlike empathy, does not depend on our ability to feel what another feels or fully understand their reality. It is not confined by our capacity for emotional resonance or the alignment of our experiences with theirs. Instead, compassion is a choice—a deliberate act of acknowledgement, validation, and presence. It asks us to see beyond the resistance, beyond the illness, beyond the stagnation, to honor the humanity buried beneath.

When we choose compassion, we engage in a profound declaration that every life, regardless of its perceived brokenness, carries inherent worth. This is not mere sentimentality. It is a practice of seeing and being with others as they truly are, rather than as how society—or even we, ourselves—would prefer them to be.

The act of being genuinely present, of sitting with someone’s despair without judgment or expectation of change, holds power. This presence validates their suffering and restores a glimmer of dignity that is often stripped away by illness or circumstance. It asserts that, though their struggles are difficult, they are not invisible, nor are they beyond the reach of human acknowledgment and care.

For many, the ability to extend this kind of unearned compassion is shaped not just by professional training or spiritual philosophy but by personal history. Those raised in emotionally and spiritually secure environments may find it easier to give others the benefit of the doubt, to see the world through a lens of abundance and patience. By contrast, those whose development was marked by volatility—or by the absence of emotional attunement—may struggle to silence their inner critic, to temper their frustration in the presence of others’ chaos.

But this truth underscores an even deeper opportunity. While our personal experiences may shape our natural inclinations, they do not confine our potential for growth. Compassion is not an inherited trait or exclusive privilege; it is a cultivated practice. The act of showing compassion, even when it feels foreign or difficult, can be a pathway toward healing and transcendence for ourselves, just as much as it is for those we aim to support.

Compassion is not only an individual endeavor; it is a cultural act. Our willingness to acknowledge and validate the suffering of others reflects the broader consciousness of our society. When we fail to show compassion, we fail not just as individuals but as members of a collective that benefits from mutual care and interdependence.

Imagine a culture in which the severely mentally ill and the resistant are viewed as burdens—a culture quick to dismiss, avoid, or condemn. What does this mindset say about us as a people? Conversely, consider a society that embraces its members, regardless of their status, as part of an interconnected whole. What heights might we reach if we approached all suffering not as isolated misfortune but as a shared experience that calls for collective upliftment?

The truth is, to lift another is to also lift oneself. By honoring someone’s humanity and their struggles, we contribute to a cultural shift that ripples beyond individual interactions. Together, through small acts of compassion, we create an ecosystem that fosters understanding, resilience, and healing—not just for some but for all.

For mental health professionals, caregivers, psychologists, and spiritual seekers, the question remains not why we should engage with those who seem unreachable but rather how. How can we rise above our frustrations, our doubts, and our own limitations to serve those whose lives are marked by profound suffering or stagnation?

The answer begins with a willingness to sit with discomfort, to confront our biases, and to unpack the narratives we carry about what suffering “deserves” our attention. It requires us to look inward, recognizing how our own stories have shaped how we show up in the world, while challenging ourselves to expand beyond those limitations.

Compassionate action does not mean abandoning boundaries or overextending ourselves until exhaustion. It means bringing intentionality to our work and our relationships. It means validating someone’s experience—not to “fix” them, but to offer the simple assurance that they are seen and heard. It means finding small ways to step into their world with curiosity and kindness, even if we do not understand it.

To engage in compassionate action is to align oneself with the ancient ethos that the measure of a culture is its ability to care for its most vulnerable. It is to walk a path of service, not from obligation or guilt, but from the profound recognition that to care for others is to care for ourselves.

This is our invitation. Whether we are a mental health professional managing a rigorous caseload, a caregiver supporting a loved one, or a spiritual seeker walking the path of connection, know that compassion is not just a tool for others’ healing—it is a quiet revolution that transforms the giver as much as the receiver.

Acknowledge suffering whenever we see it. Validate humanity wherever it is found. Let us challenge ourselves to rise—not with judgment or solutions, but with presence. Because every act of compassion planted today becomes the fertile soil from which a more humane, connected, and resilient world can grow.

The path is not always easy, but the choice is always ours.

Will we take it?

Wean Yourself, by Rumi

Little by little, wean yourselt

This is the gist of what I say.

From an embryo, whose nourishment comes in blood,

Move to an infant drinking milk

To a child on solid food

To a searcher after wisdom

To a hunter of more invisible game.

Think how it is to have a conversation with an embryo

You might say the world is vast and intricate

There are wheat fields and mountain passes

And orchards in bloom.

At night there are millions of galaxies, and in sunlight

The beauty of friends dancing at a wedding.

You ask the embryo why he or she stays cooped up

In the dark with its eyes closed

Listen to the answer

There is no “other world”

I only know what I have experienced

You must be hallucinating.

This evocative poem offers an introspective and philosophical meditation on the progression of life, the pursuit of knowledge, and the limits of individual perception. Through its rich imagery and metaphors, the poem explores the experience of growth—starting within the sheltered confines of an embryo and expanding outward into a boundless world filled with beauty, wisdom, and the unknown. At its core, it challenges readers to reconsider the way they perceive existence and self-evolution.

The poem moves through a beautifully symbolic depiction of life stages, beginning with the embryo and culminating in the pursuit of wisdom and intangible truths.

• “From an embryo, whose nourishment comes in blood, / Move to an infant drinking milk / To a child on solid food…”

This sequence portrays the physical growth that marks the early stages of life. Beyond the literal transformation, it symbolizes the foundation of learning—how we are first nourished by others, then gradually move toward independence and self-sufficiency.

• “…To a searcher after wisdom / To a hunter of more invisible game.”

These lines transcend the physical to depict the intellectual and spiritual maturation of a human being. Here, life becomes a metaphorical hunt for meaning, with wisdom and truth as the ultimate, elusive prey. The progression reflects how curiosity evolves with time, maturing from basic survival instincts to profound philosophical inquiries.

The poem underscores the gradual, layered nature of acquiring wisdom. Wisdom is not offered all at once but unfolds as one moves through lived experiences and deeper understanding.

The speaker advises patience and persistence, encouraging the reader to evolve “little by little.” This mirrors life itself, reminding us that growth is not instantaneous—it’s a process of continuous exploration and discovery. The poem’s structure mirrors this theme, gently guiding the reader from an enclosed, limited space to an expansive vision of the world’s beauty and complexity.

The use of metaphor is central to the poem’s philosophical impact. It blends profound insights into life’s stages with vivid imagery to engage both the intellect and the senses.

• “From an embryo” is a powerful metaphor for being cocooned in ignorance or a narrow perspective. It represents an early stage where existence is defined solely by immediate, internal experience.
• “The world is vast and intricate, / There are wheat fields and mountain passes, / And orchards in bloom.”

These lines convey a sense of wonderment and possibility, painting a world that is lush, dynamic, and alive. The imagery here serves as a stark contrast to the limited experience of the embryo in its closed-off state.

• “Hunter of more invisible game” signals a shift to abstraction. It suggests the pursuit of truths that can neither be seen nor easily defined, emphasizing the need to seek out the immeasurable and transcendental.

A recurring theme in the poem is the tension between the expansiveness of the world and the embryo’s confined experience.

• “You might say the world is vast and intricate… / At night there are millions of galaxies, and in sunlight / The beauty of friends dancing at a wedding.”

This imagery captures the grandeur of the external world, brimming with beauty and infinite possibilities. Yet juxtaposed with this is the limited awareness of the embryo: “I only know what I have experienced.”

This poignant contrast reflects the existential predicament of all individuals, who, like the embryo, are shaped and constrained by their personal experiences. The world “out there” may be vast and awe-inspiring, but our perception of it is filtered and often incomplete. This raises a vital question—how much of the world can we truly understand, given the limitations of our senses and experiences?

The imagined dialogue with the embryo forms the philosophical and emotional heart of the poem. The embryo’s denial of “other worlds” mirrors a common human tendency to reject what lies beyond our immediate reality.

• “There is no ‘other world’ / I only know what I have experienced / You must be hallucinating.”

These lines speak to the intrinsic skepticism humans have about the unknown. The embryo refuses to entertain the possibility of worlds outside its dark, cocooned existence—a reflection of intellectual and spiritual insularity.

This conversation functions as a metaphor for the human condition. Like the embryo, we often mistake our limited experiences for the entirety of reality. The poem presses against this notion, calling us to expand our awareness and challenge our perceptions.

The poem also subtly explores the duality between the material and spiritual worlds. The vivid description of the “orbits” and “orchards in bloom” represents tangible, sensory realities. For the embryo, these remain distant and incomprehensible—a sharp distinction from its immediate world.

Yet, as the “hunter of invisible game,” the speaker alludes to the deeper, transcendental truths lying beyond even the material world. This invites the audience to reflect on the notion of duality and whether the “other world” lies in the realm of spirit, thought, or untapped potential.

At its core, the poem invites readers to step beyond the walls of their unawakened comfort zones—a process symbolized by the embryo leaving the womb. This is not merely a call for physical growth but spiritual and intellectual awakening.

The final message is both a challenge and an encouragement. It compels readers to question their assumptions, seek broader perspectives, and aspire toward higher knowledge, even if it initially seems intangible or unreachable.

Through its rich use of metaphor, progression of life stages, and philosophical inquiry, this poem offers a timeless exploration of human existence and self-discovery. It urges readers to move beyond the confines of limited perception toward a fuller, wiser understanding of life’s mysteries.

For literature lovers, spiritual seekers, and truth hunters alike, the poem captures the essence of growth—patient, evolving, and infinite in its potential. Its existential undertones echo one profound truth: the world we see is only the beginning. Beyond the dark, unfamiliar realm of our own limitations lies a transcendent “other world,” waiting to be experienced.

This is the world of the true awakened ones, is where our awareness and highest capacity for intelligence, love, and wisdom resides.