What would you write if you were trying to change one person's mind? It's an interesting question because it assumes a level of intent and focus that sometimes feels rare in our fast, fragmented digital world. And yet, the more I think about it, the more I realize that we try to change minds all the time. In small ways, in big ways. With varied success.

Imagine writing a letter to a friend or an argument on a forum. What’s your goal? Maybe you're not even conscious of it, but there's often an undercurrent of persuasion. Now, what if the stakes were higher? Say, changing the mind of someone you care about deeply on an issue that matters. Politics, perhaps. Or the merits of pineapple on pizza. Though that's a debate that might just be insolvable.

But, shifting a mind isn’t just about the ideas themselves. It’s about connection. Sure, facts matter. But if facts were enough, we'd all agree on everything. It's the emotional resonance, the human connection that does the heavy lifting. Think about it. When did you last change your mind? Was it because someone bombarded you with information, or was it because they touched your heart first?

And there’s the rub. It's not just about what you say, but how you make someone feel. Trust plays a role here. So does vulnerability. Being honest about your doubts can sometimes open a door that all the righteousness in the world can't budge. Maybe that's why Brene Brown's work on vulnerability resonates with so many.

It's a dance, isn’t it? Between conviction and openness. If you lean too much on one side, the balance tips. You risk coming off as a zealot, or worse, indifferent. But, what if you approach it with curiosity? Genuine curiosity can be disarming. It's like saying, "I see you. I don't have all the answers, but I'm willing to explore them with you."

When I think about famous examples to Martin Luther King Jr's speeches, for instance to they weren’t just about presenting arguments. They were about painting a vision, appealing to the humanity in us all. "I Have a Dream" wasn't a collection of bullet points. It was a story, a vivid tapestry that invited listeners to imagine possibilities beyond their current reality.

[QUOTE. “The power of getting to a place where you see things differently, for a moment, is the gateway to change”] to this resonates because it reflects the core of mind-changing. It's not a single event. It's a series of moments, a shift in perspective. And often, it starts with a question.

Questions. Maybe that's the key. Not just asking them but listening, really listening to the answers. It's amazing how often we prepare to respond rather than absorb. If you're trying to change a mind, listen to understand, not to win. The victory lies in the exchange, in the mutual growth it inspires.

It's also about knowing when to let go. Sometimes, despite your best efforts, minds remain unchanged. And that's okay. Perhaps the goal shifts from changing a mind to planting a seed. Seeds take time to grow. And not all seeds take root, but some do. Maybe that's enough.

I wonder what our world would look like if more conversations were less about winning and more about learning. It's tantalizing, this idea of a collective dialogue shaping our shared reality. In a way, that’s what Reality Designers is all about. Creating spaces where ideas can collide, tangle, and emerge anew.

So, if you were to write with the aim of changing one mind, what would you say? Perhaps it’s not just in the content but the spirit of the message. Here’s a thought. what if writing to speaking to comes from a place of empathy first, strategy second?

I’d like to think that’s where true transformation begins. Maybe it’s idealistic. Maybe not. But the power of words lies in their ability to create ripples. You might aim to reach one mind, but catch many in the process. Our interconnectedness assures us of that.

There’s a scene that plays out in my mind sometimes, especially when reflecting on this topic. two people on a park bench, talking. The sun is setting. The air is tinged with autumn's chill. One leans in, listening closely. The other, hands animated, shares a story that changes the weight of the evening. There's a pause, a silent acknowledgment, and then a shift, not in opinion, but understanding.

Perhaps changing one mind is less about altering thoughts and more about shifting the lens through which we view the world. A change in angle that lets light refract differently.

What would you write if you were trying to change one person's mind? The answer, it turns out, is a journey in itself. An exploration of what it means to connect, to resonate, and to dream of what's possible. Or maybe it's simpler than that. Just a conversation, an offering of understanding. A moment shared, a seed planted.

And maybe, just maybe, the mind you'd end up changing is your own.