Knowing the words and their rules doesn’t guarantee that I understand or that I can be understood. I understand what people are saying to me. But do I understand the person?

How does a microscopic alga orient itself towards the light?

It all began with that question about the movement that paved the way for the discoveries of Hegemann, Nagel, and Deisseroth, who were awarded the Nobel Prize in Medicine: they studied proteins that function as gates in the cell membrane. When they receive light, they open and allow electrically charged particles to pass through.

We need light and clarity in our relationships.

“I don’t see it clearly,” they tell me, and I prepare my defense. I think I’m listening, but I’ve been talking to my fears for a while now.

Where did the conversation break down? It’s not the language. I can be fluent in several languages ​​and still be a foreigner in my own country.

I need the language of the heart. That light that unifies. That intimate space where I can be one without ceasing to be many: what I think, feel, and want.

I understand something, but I find it hard to accept.

I want to get closer, but I respond by distancing myself. I need to find a place of unity from which to speak.

I carry my own wounds. Some have been crying out for help for a long time. If I offer them my interpretation of everything that happens, I can hear a reproach where hardly a question has been asked.

What have they said to me, and what have I added? I can acknowledge my pain and revise my interpretation. I don’t lose dignity by admitting I was wrong. I regain the ability to respond differently.

Reading Erik Varden, I pause at his warning about the loss of a shared understanding of what it means to be human. ^[2]

How much of that fracture has settled at my table? How much lack of love, freedom, respect.

Varden links this loss to the hopes placed in “technological upgrades.” ^[2] I appreciate medical advances. But am I beginning to view my humanity as a version that needs replacing? If everything is surpassed in the near future, what will be the point of promising “forever”?

He calls this obscuring of who we are a “metaphysical eclipse.” ^[2] I translate it as: when I lose sight of the value of being someone, I can end up measuring myself—and others—by how well we function.

If I understand love as not contradicting me, I will experience disagreement as a lack of affection.

If I call freedom the idea of ​​not owing anything to anyone, I will end up feeling that commitment is a threat.

And I will end by saying that it is impossible to understand each other.

1. Varden points out how ties can turn into deals or tricks: I stay as long as I get something. ^[2] I recognize that logic when it harms me.

Do I discover it when I’m the one doing the calculating?

What place will I leave for someone who can no longer give me what I expect?

What place is left for me when I need more than I can give?

We need a unifying language, the language of dignity. To be able to say “here I am” without first having to prove my worth. And to recognize that same value in the person standing before me.

I need something that unites me with others and allows me to remain myself. Pascal wrote: “A multitude that does not reduce itself to unity is confusion; a unity that does not depend on the multitude is tyranny.” ^[3]

Communion begins to take shape when I allow someone’s goodness to influence my decisions.

I return to E. Varden. He recognizes people tired of the ephemeral who seek a truth upon which to build. ^[2]

I can get tired of having the exit open and not finding anywhere to stay.

Varden adds something that resonates with me: feeling heard matters, but you also need guidance, a goal, to learn how to live well. ^[2] I recognize that need. Sometimes I manage to explain what’s happening to me, and I still don’t know what to do about it.

“To flourish is not to be continually delirious with happiness,” Varden writes. ^[2] That distinction helps me look at my life. I can go through a hardship and still nurture something valuable. I need to discern what I must change and what deserves my perseverance.

I can name what hurts without giving up on what I love.

I think of Saint John Paul II. I remember him kissing the ground, weeping, laughing heartily, absorbed in prayer. His “Do not be afraid!” reached me with the force of a life given over. ^[4] He spoke with his whole being.

As illness gradually silenced his voice, I continued to recognize that language. Benedict XVI called it “the chair of suffering and silence.” ^[5] His final suffering was silent communion.

I think about world peace and I feel small. I know that justice, political decisions, and agreements that protect life are needed. I cannot replace them with my good intentions. Nor do I want to get used to talking about entire populations as if there were no longer any people in them.

From my faith, I know that every life, like mine, has been loved by God. I want that certainty to reach my words.

When I ask for world peace again, I would like to be ready to hear the answer. It may come in a language I don’t understand.

Or in the voice of someone I stopped listening to a long time ago.

References

1. Karolinska Institutet. The Nobel Prize to the pioneers of optogenetics Peter Hegemann, Georg Nagel and Karl Deisseroth. October 5, 2026.
   https://news.ki.se/the-nobel-prize-to-the-pioneers-of-optogenetics-peter-hegemann-georg-nagel-and-karl-deisseroth
2. Erik Varden. Laetitiae Amor, section “Families Today.” Translation published by Infovaticana, October 20, 2026.
   https://infovaticana.com/2026/10/20/laetitiae-amor-la-reflexion-integra-de-mons-erik-varden-tras-el-encuentro-sobre-amoris-laetitia/
3. Blaise Pascal. Thoughts, fragment 871, Brunschvicg edition. Translated from the French.
   https://fr.wikisource.org/wiki/Pensées_(Pascal,_éd._Brunschvicg)/Pensées/Section_XIV
4. John Paul II. Homily at the beginning of his pontificate, October 22, 1978.
   https://www.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/es/homilies/1978/documents/hf_jp-ii_hom_19781022_inizio-pontificato.html
5. Benedict XVI. Address to the Roman Curia, December 22, 2005.
   https://www.vatican.va/content/benedict-xvi/es/speeches/2005/december/documents/hf_ben_xvi_spe_20051222_roman-curia.html
6. Leo XIV. Magnifica Humanitas, May 15, 2026, nos. 7-10.
   https://www.vatican.va/content/leo-xiv/es/encyclicals/documents/20260515-magnifica-humanitas.html