Another year has passed and with it come the opportunity of starting our new year’s resolutions and working towards fresh goals. I love the idea of starting a new; be it a new month or even phase of our life. It portrays something that is often missing in our daily news or even in our daily conversations, Hope.
While we cannot ignore the conditions of a troubled world, be it economic turmoil, geopolitical tensions, wars and famine. These challenges have been with us in varying degrees for as long as history has been recorded. We see them unfolding, but often it feels like nothing improves at least to the naked eye, sometimes giving the sense that there is no point continuing with the charade of everything being fine.
But with the new year while new troubles may arise, new opportunities also extend their hands to us.
I find it fitting that after the month of Christmas, the season of Love, Hope and Peace we enter the new year. It’s a reminder for us to carry those values into the new year. Christmas shows us that love means sacrifice, that hope can be found even in a humble manger and that peace is something we can all strive towards in interactions with the world around us.
It’s not always easy. Personally, when I am slighted, my instinct is to defend myself, but I’ve learnt that taking a moment to pause before reaction helps a ton in clearing the mind. Small steps like this are part of why I enjoy entering the new year, even if we enter with simple resolutions like spending less time (5 mins or even 1 hour) on the mobile. Even that small change is progress.
Often, when we look toward moving forward, we want progress to come quickly and results to appear instantly. But taking intentional steps in the present makes looking back at the path we’ve created all the more rewarding.
Imagine walking on a sandy beach in haste, then walking on it with intention, taking in the ocean and life around you. Which set of footprints would be more striking?
In The Screwtape Letters, a witty book by C.S Lewis that features two demons, Wormwood and Screwtape, exchanging letters on the best way to corrupt a soul, there is a salient quote from Screwtape. ‘For the Present is the point at which time touches eternity.’
Many times, I forget the blessing that is the present day in search for something I may not find tomorrow or something that I may not need in search of my own greed and ambition.
If there’s one thing to take away from this post, it’s this:
Before the sun reaches its peak in the sky, it passes through the beauty of the sunrise, where not on the sun itself but everything the light touches, is admired. In the same way, living intentionally in each present moment can help us see both the world and ourselves more clearly.
In today’s world, there are many discussions on rehabilitating people when they are radicalised or commit crimes. It led me to a question on what are the steps that one usually has to go through before rehabilitation is possible. I landed at two words, ‘Correction’ and ‘Conviction’.
Before we get started let’s explore what each of these words mean:
Corrections: Change that rectifies an error or inaccuracy or the action or process of correcting something.
Conviction: A formal declaration by the verdict of a jury or the decision of a judge in a court of law that someone is guilty of a criminal offence or a firmly held belief or opinion.
From the simplified definitions (thank you Google!) we can perceive the difference between the words. Correction is more of an external manifestation on making amends to ensure better performance or in some cases acceptable behaviour.
Correction is important in helping us learn, grow and improve across our personal and professional lives. In a way, when one accepts correction, it may lead to increase self-worth and confidence, because it’s a reminder that no one is perfect.
Conviction on the other hand, is more intrinsic. It provides internal strength to pursue our goals, overcome obstacles and maintain congruence in thought and action. Leading to greater personal growth and even building resilience. Strong convictions help to inspire trust in others, strengthen decision making and foster a sense of purpose and passion. It makes setbacks and obstacles no matter how daunting seem small when one is convicted in their belief or action.
When I was writing this I realised that one is clearly more powerful than the other. If you are corrected or chastised, you may not always be convicted of your actions or behaviour. But if you are convicted on something, it comes hand in hand with being chastised or corrected which then shapes how you continue to journey through life.
So where does this difference show up most clearly? I’ve noticed it in two very different groups: children and criminals. Both are often corrected, but the presence—or absence—of conviction makes all the difference.
Children and Criminals: What is the difference?
I know the header seems abit jarring but bear with me.
Many of my close friends and family work with children. I always found it curious when I would see them correcting a child, it usually goes with (a) Shout or yelling to get their attention, (b) being pulled aside, (c) telling the child what they did was wrong and sometimes if you are lucky (d) Why it was wrong. Many times, as adults we stop at telling children ‘what’ but rarely go beyond to ‘why’.
Maybe its because we assume that a young child would not understand the why, so we don’t bother telling them that till they’re older.
But when will a child be old enough?
The question I have lies more with the adults, why do we stop and not explain to children why their behaviour is bad, disruptive, rude (any of the above). While yes, I do think we should pick our battles, for a young child even putting out the ‘why’ makes a difference because it’s planting seeds into their minds and can make changes to their behaviour.
Many times, as adults we get upset when we receive an apology that does not put into words ‘why’ we are receiving it.
Case in point, pick which one you prefer:
‘I’m sorry for saying that, please forgive me’
vs
‘I’m sorry for calling you that. It was hurtful and childish thing to do. I was being rude and inconsiderate for even using that term, I will do better, please forgive me’.
The difference in an apology is the understanding of why. It is not simply the word ‘sorry’ that makes the difference.
If as adults many of us struggle with accepting such apologies or lack of reasoning, why are we leaving children unequipped.
Now for criminals we have the opposite problem.
Many times, they are aware of social norms and rules on criminal activities. In a courtroom their crimes are detailed and explained to the jury or the judge and it is always presented with a motive (the why) in the courtroom.
Playing devil advocate to myself, if the ‘why’ is needed—this is the perfect scenario— why are there repeat offenders occur. Its confusing especially when the consequences have been outlined and experienced.
I like to think that despite the judge or jury passing a conviction, internally the person isn’t convicted. Ever heard the saying ‘you can bring the horse to water, but you can’t make it drink’. Well, this is the same.
The beauty of conviction is that it is a double-edged sword. It is more effective than correction only when it is from within. Which means if I choose to justify my behaviour due to other external factors rather than accept that I had to power to choose my decision despite the circumstance, I will never be convicted.
I can be corrected by people, I can explain and justify my actions, but I won’t be able to see the hurt or pain it caused, and neither will I be willing to accept that I became a perpetrator unless I am convicted.
How do we continue evolving
I know it’s an uncomfortable conversation to slowly peel yourself open to the possibility that there are a lot of things in life that makes you a cog in the machine and the same way the cog does not understand why you just go through the motions.
But maybe the question isn’t which is more powerful, but how we can move from correction to conviction in our own lives. The next time we are corrected—whether as children, adults, or even in the quiet courtroom of our conscience—what if we paused long enough to ask: Do I just understand what I did wrong, or am I convicted enough to live differently?
The answer may determine whether the lesson ends there.
It’s interesting that the word idol sounds so much like idle which means to be useless, inactive, or without purpose. That similarity feels ironic, because many of the idols in our lives do just that, they pull us away from what truly matters and leave us emotionally or spiritually stagnant.
In our modern world, we often make idols out of the things we love and care about. As a massive comic book fan and someone who enjoys reading, I get excited about adding to my collections be it figurines, statues, or memorabilia that reflect the stories and characters I admire. If I have a book collection, you can bet I’ve either bought or made something that resembles the story and proudly placed it alongside the books in my library.
But when I talk about idols, I’m not just talking about stuff you collect or decorate your shelves with. I mean how we start embodying what we idolize. Take someone who’s super into politics or social justice, they might change their whole vibe, their tone, even how they dress to fit that narrative. And sometimes, when you talk to them, it’s hard to see who they are beyond that one issue or identity.
Becoming the things we worship
Currently, with all the interviews, podcasts, and social media content, there’s a big push to “humanize” public figures like celebrities, politicians, influencers. And honestly, I like the idea behind that. It takes them off the pedestal and reminds us that they are just people. It’s kind of funny when you hear, “Wait, they eat toast like us!” or “They can’t do their own chores!” That whole mystic aura starts to fade, and, in a way, it makes it seem weird to worship them.
But sometimes, that humanizing effect backfires. Instead of pulling back, people lean in deeper. Because now their “hero” is relatable just a regular person like me and the worship becomes even more intense. The line between admiration and obsession gets blurry fast.
And that’s what saddens me. You can admire someone, sure. But worshipping them? That says more about us than it does about them. A celebrity wears something—it sells out. They share a political view and suddenly, that’s the right opinion. It’s like we’re outsourcing our thoughts and identity.
When good things become God things
We do this with things real or imagined. We trade little parts of ourselves to feel like we belong to something. And to be clear—having interests doesn’t make something an idol. But if it starts dictating your decisions, your time, your emotions? Then yeah, it probably is one.
For example: I like Batman. I’ve got comics, statues, cute little figurines my friends know it’s my thing. But it doesn’t define me. I don’t talk about it every day. In fact, there’ve been times when I’ve let go of things I loved because I realized they were taking up too much space mentally, emotionally, spiritually. And when something starts pulling me away from the one, I love, it must go.
Idolatry doesn’t always show up in dramatic ways. One of the more subtle forms I’ve noticed—especially while studying politics—is how people turn ideologies into idols. It’s not about healthy conviction anymore. It becomes moral superiority. And in the process, empathy disappears. People stop listening. They just parrot the opinions that make them feel smart, or safe, or “right.”
The reflections of Stanley cups
In a perfect world, our interests would just be accessories, parts of us, but not us. But what I see more often is people “Frankensteining” themselves. Cutting off parts that were once full of life and replacing them with whatever they’re obsessed with.
It’s not just you who loses something in that process-your family, your friends, your community, they lose you too. You slowly become a shell of who you used to be, shaped more by trends or tribes than truth. The way you think, speak, dress—it starts mirroring what you worship.
(And if you want a weird but perfect example of how deep this run: look at the Stanley Cup water bottle craze. People camping out, fighting over colours, hoarding ten of them “just in case.” It’s not about hydration anymore. It’s identity. A $40 bottle became a lifestyle badge.)
The truth is none of us are promised tomorrow. And when that moment comes—when you’re facing the end—your favourite influencer, fictional character, or political hero won’t be there to hold your hand. So, the question becomes: What have we done with the time we were given? Have we spent more of it scrolling and collecting and comparing than connecting with the people who love us?
That’s the real tragedy of idolatry; it doesn’t just take your time. It takes you and if you are not careful, you won’t even notice you’re gone.
ArrowsInk 