I like to talk about the things that make people pause and think — the topics that tug at the edges of comfort. Life and death. The mysteries of what might come after. Politics — yes, but only when we can keep it civil. I love conversations with people who know their own limits, who can say “that’s enough for today” without shutting the door completely. It’s not about arguing — it’s about understanding.

I don’t always dive into the heaviest topics — though they often call to me. But when I do, I try to know my audience. Some people are open to receiving new ideas, to challenging their long-held beliefs. Others struggle with that, and that’s okay. Not every conversation is for everyone. But the way we deal with discomfort? That reveals a lot about us.

Here’s an example: when I was younger, I was deeply religious. I had a Christian upbringing — one that included a lot of nurturing and guidance — but it was also layered with exposure to other ideas like astrology and dream interpretation. I believed Christianity was the best way, the only way. I used to say to others, “You have to know it, not just believe it.” And I said that with conviction, thinking my belief was the absolute truth.

But life — oh, life has a way of teaching you. It challenges you. It stretches you. It introduces complexities that doctrine can’t always explain. I tried hard to hold onto my faith and carry it forward into adulthood. But over time, the cracks began to show. Still, I don’t resent the way I was raised. I’m grateful for it. That foundation led me to deeper understanding and gave me the curiosity to keep questioning.

One moment that sticks with me came from a conversation with a 14-year-old friend of my son. He told me he didn’t believe in God. At the time, it shocked me. I wasn’t trying to have a philosophical debate, but I responded with what I had been taught. I told him he was too young to be so sure. That you have to know, not just believe. Looking back now, I don’t know if he was right — and that’s the point. None of us really knows. But I admired his courage to say what he felt, even if it went against what I believed.

Interestingly, I experienced a similar moment again in my late 40s — only this time, I was on the receiving end. I shared a political perspective with a family member, and they shut it down, not because it was wrong, but because they believed their age gave them more authority. No curiosity, no engagement — just dismissal. That moment echoed my earlier experience from a new angle. I saw the cycle of how easy it is to silence others or be silenced.

Today, I find more peace in simplicity. I don’t align with any one ideology. I listen to many, consider all, and dedicate myself to a spiritual practice rooted in meditation. I explore meaning in visions, symbols, and the unknown. For me, the Universe is God — everything I do not know or understand.

I also like talking about politics — but not just the surface-level stuff. I prefer conversations where people are willing to question what they’ve been told. And when I don’t know something, I say I’ll look it up. Because no matter how much you know, you’re still learning. We all are.

We only get this one human experience — at least in the form we know it. And while it may feel vast, it can also be incredibly limiting if we don’t allow ourselves to grow, to question, to evolve.

And it’s not always doom and philosophy either — I love a good chat about dreams, visions, or the wonders of outer space. I’m curious. Always have been. Give me a topic that opens the door to something bigger, and I’m in.

So, what do I like to talk about? Everything that makes us human. Everything that makes us think. Everything that connects us.

What about you? What topics spark something inside you? What ideas have challenged or changed you?

Let’s talk about that.