“The party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears.
It was their final, most essential command.”
— George Orwell, 1984
There are times when the world grows loud not with truth, but with insistence. When explanations arrive quickly, neatly packaged, asking us to doubt what we’ve seen, what we’ve heard, what we feel stirring deep within.
Orwell’s warning was not only about power – it was about perception. About what happens when people are taught to override their own senses, to distrust their inner knowing, to silence the quiet voice that says, something isn’t right.
This kind of erosion rarely happens all at once. It happens slowly. Through softened language. Through distraction. Through the steady suggestion that clarity is dangerous and questions are disloyal.
On the Prayer Porch, we choose a different posture.
We pause instead of rushing to accept what’s handed to us.
We honor the evidence of our eyes and ears.
We allow discomfort to teach us rather than numb us.
Truth doesn’t always arrive fully formed, and discernment takes patience. But abandoning our conscience is never the cost of peace. Peace begins when we remain awake, attentive, and rooted in compassion – even when doing so feels unsettling.
May we resist the invitation to forget what we know.
May we stay human in a world that sometimes asks us not to be.
What helps you stay grounded in truth and compassion when clarity feels inconvenient?
The Prayer Porch 