We fight when our world becomes too small. When our field of view collapses to the narrow tunnel of ego, identity, narrative, and fear. Conflict is the consequence of forgetting scale.

It arises when we start thinking we are the protagonists of the universe instead of what we actually are, temporary gatherings of stardust who get to witness something extraordinary.

The universe doesn’t need us. It doesn’t choose us. It doesn’t measure us. It simply allows us, the way it allows stars to be born and galaxies to collide and photons to wander for a billion years before ending their journey in the soft tissue of our eyes.

And sometimes we forget what a privilege it is to be allowed. That forgetting is where conflict begins.

When the mind shrinks, the fists rise.

 Conflict is not caused by difference. Conflict is caused by scale-contraction. When the mind becomes small, when it collapses inward, when it clings to significance, when it takes itself too seriously - anger feels justified. Fear feels rational. Winning feels urgent. Ego feels real.

But the moment the mind expands, the moment awe enters the system, the moment we remember where and what we actually are…

Conflict dissolves like morning frost in sunlight. Wonder and violence cannot coexist. One stretches the soul; the other shrinks it.

Awe is the biological antidote to aggression.

There is nothing mystical about this. It is neurological. Structural. A built-in design of consciousness. Awe quiets the default mode network - the seat of ego.

It dissolves the boundaries of “me” vs “other.” It increases compassion. It increases perspective. It increases humility. It softens the nervous system and expands the cognitive field.

A mind in awe cannot pick up a weapon. Not because it is moral, but because it is open.

Awe is what happens when consciousness remembers its origin. Conflict is what happens when it forgets.

Look at the universe long enough, and fighting begins to look absurd.

Stars don’t fight. Galaxies wobble toward each other in slow-motion grace and merge into something new, not through conquest but through gravitational curiosity.

Nebulae cradle newborn stars in clouds of gentle dust. Even supernovae, the most violent events we know, are acts of cosmic generosity, seeding the universe with elements so life can one day emerge and giggle at the night sky or the fireworks in Disneyland.

When you hold ALL THIS in your mind - the scale, the beauty, the absurdity, the generosity - how can human conflict feel anything but small?

Two ants arguing on a blue rock orbiting a mediocre star in the suburbs of the Milky Way, in a galaxy destined to merge with Andromeda in a 4-billion-year dance.

And we… fight? Hehe. Once this realization hits - your heart laughs instead of fumes.

Perspective is peace.

Wonder restores scale.

 To experience wonder is to see clearly:

• We didn’t earn existence.

• We didn’t choose our starting conditions.

• We don’t deserve our fortunes or misfortunes.

• We are not the center of anything.

We are the universe arranged into a moment of awareness. That’s it. That’s the miracle.
Humility is not self-reduction. Humility is scale-accuracy. It’s remembering we are stardust. It’s remembering we are temporary. It’s remembering we are allowed, not required.

And when humility enters the system, the ego relaxes. The heart softens. And the hands unclench. Wonder does not erase conflict. It makes conflict irrelevant.

Wonder is the return.

Awe is not the decoration of life; it is the architecture. It brings us back to the truth that existence is undeserved fortune. We belong not because the universe needs us but because the universe permits us.

Awe is the moment we remember that. Conflict is the moment we forget. The antidote to conflict is wonder because wonder expands the mind beyond its invented desires for control and certainty. Wonder says: “Look at this. Look at ALL this. How can we spend our brief lives doing anything but marveling at the fact we get to be here?”

Wonder turns fear into curiosity. It turns ego into humility. It turns separation into connection. It turns violence into softness. It turns existence into gratitude.

A soft ending

The universe will continue doing what it does - birthing stars, merging galaxies, carving light, weaving probabilities into the fabrics of worlds. It will not notice us. It will not judge us. It will not intervene.

But it does allow us. To witness. To reflect. To laugh. To wonder. And maybe that is enough. Maybe that is everything. Because in a universe that owes us nothing and needs us not at all…

The fact we get to sit here, you and I, talking about baby stars and supernova generosity and cosmic tenderness, that alone proves the point:

The antidote to conflict is wonder. Because wonder makes room for love. And love makes room for life.