By Laura Htet (UDE)

 

THERE is something beautifully complex about being human. We carry hearts capable of deep compassion, minds that can build and destroy, and emotions that stretch between joy and sor­row. In life, we all face problems. Some are small, like a broken cup or a forgotten appointment. Others are much heavier: loss, fear, tragedy. Regardless of the size, how we respond to problems shapes who we are.

 

We humans, when faced with a problem, tend to resort to blaming and trying to easily resolve the issue. By blaming someone or a certain situation, we often attempt to escape from the problem. Blaming someone is very easy. Some even form groups to blame others. How­ever, blaming does not solve the problem. Blame gives us a false sense of power. It creates the illusion that if we find the cause of the pain outside of ourselves, we can feel better. But this is not healing. This is escape.

 

Blame puts a wall between people. It pushes away under­standing, kindness, and the chance to grow. Instead of con­stantly blaming someone, try to put ourselves in their shoes for a moment. If we think, “What if I were in their place?” we will gain the ability to understand why they acted in a certain way. Once we understand someone, we can no longer blame them. When we begin to feel their fear, their confusion, their reasons, we see them not as a problem, but as another human, like us.

 

Sadly, it’s not always others we blame. Some people blame themselves. With words like “I’m incompetent,” “I’m useless,” or “It’s my fault,” they treat them­selves so harshly that they can­not recover. The result is a loss of self-respect, feelings of inferiori­ty, self-doubt, and a struggle with a lack of confidence. These quiet battles happen in the silence of people’s hearts. We might walk past someone who looks fine on the outside, but inside, we are hurting from our own harsh in­ner voice.

 

We need to learn a new language of love for ourselves. Whenever we make a mistake, try treating ourselves with for­giveness and understanding. Think, “I made a mistake this time, but I’ll forgive myself. I’ll learn from this mistake”. With such relieving thoughts, we should give ourselves a sec­ond chance. Someone who can avoid blaming themselves and instead offer understanding and forgiveness is also someone who respects and loves themselves.

 

This doesn’t mean we nev­er take responsibility. It means we take it with kindness. We al­low ourselves to grow instead of shrink. We allow the pain to teach, not to punish. Forgiving ourselves is not weakness – it is emotional courage.

 

Then there are those who blame their circumstances. Some people blame the circumstances. They say things like, “Because of this situation, I lost my op­portunities,” or “I’m stuck and can’t move forward,” blaming the circumstances and thereby giv­ing themselves an excuse to feel free. It’s true, life can be incredi­bly unfair. Sometimes people do everything they can, but the door still doesn’t open. Opportunities disappear. Time runs out. And pain arrives.

 

But even then, we have to remember — circumstances are often beyond our control. We can­not decide when the rain will fall or when the earth will shake. In reality, external circumstances are things we cannot control. No matter how difficult or obstruc­tive external conditions may be, we must find our own liberation. The person who can control and manage their mind is the one who can find freedom, no matter the circumstances.

 

This truth has become clear­er recently, especially after the earthquake that shook many parts of our country, Myanmar. In just a few seconds, homes were damaged, hearts were broken, and fear settled in. It was not something anyone could have prevent­ed or expected. It was frightening. It was painful. For many, it felt like life suddenly fell apart.

And in times like these, when the ground under our feet becomes unstable — literally and emotionally — we look for something to hold on to. Some people hold on to hope. Some hold on to each other. But some, out of confusion or fear, hold on to blame. They ask, “Why us? Why now?” They point to anything or anyone to ex­plain the pain. And that is natural. It is part of being human. We want answers, and we want someone or some­thing to be responsi­ble for the hurt.

 

But in these moments, what we need most is not blame. What we need is compassion. For oth­ers and for ourselves. We need to say to each other, “I see your pain. I feel it too.” We need to say to ourselves, “You’re allowed to feel this. And you’ll get through it.”

 

There is something deep and unshakable in the human spirit. Despite the broken walls and broken hearts, people still helped each other. They brought water, food, blankets, and even just a warm smile. Some made space in their homes for those who had lost theirs. These ac­tions may seem small, but they are powerful. They are the signs of people who chose not to stay in fear or blame, but who chose love, connection, and courage.

 

This is the power we carry inside of us. The power to re­spond with kindness even when the world feels cruel. The power to choose peace even when the noise outside is loud. The power to rebuild not just houses, but also trust, understanding, and inner strength.

We do not have control over every event in our lives. Earth­quakes will come. Accidents will happen. People will make mistakes – so will we. But in all of this, we do have control over something very important: our hearts. We can choose what kind of heart we want to have.

 

A blaming heart is tired and afraid. A blaming heart pushes others away and makes the world feel darker. But a heart that seeks to understand, that chooses to forgive, that learns and grows — that kind of heart lights up even the darkest moment.

 

So today, if we find ourselves blaming someone, pause and ask ourselves, “Do we really know what they’ve been through?” If we find ourselves blaming our­selves, take a deep breath. Tell ourselves, “We are learning. We are trying. We are worthy.” And if we find ourselves blaming our circumstances, remember, that the strongest light shines when the surroundings are darkest. We still have the power to move, to think, to feel, and to love.

Life may not always be gen­tle. But we can be. Towards oth­ers and towards ourselves. That is how we rebuild — not just our homes, but our humanity.

 

Let’s carry this spirit with us as we move forward. Not just dur­ing times of crisis, but every day. Let us be gentle with our words, kind with our thoughts, and pa­tient with our hearts. Let us give space for healing and time for growth. Let us teach ourselves and each other that pain is not the end – it is the beginning of understanding.

 

And when the next challenge comes, as it surely will, may we be ready — not with blame, but with strength. Not with anger, but with love. Not with fear, but with the quiet courage that lives in every human soul.