Андрей Ельников – Make the world a better place. Start with yourself (страница 2)

If the starting positions are unequal, then the most direct lever is what lies within our zone of control: how we speak, what we leave behind in the shared space, what we share, how we earn, and how we help. The external slope changes slowly, but our own step can change immediately.

"We are not what happened to us. We are what we choose to become"

Carl Jung, psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, the founder of analytical psychology

We do not choose our starting point, but we do choose who we become along the way. After the "inheritance of circumstances," each of us faces a simple yet tough question: what do I do with my set of cards? Do I leave everything as it is—or do I turn this inheritance into material for building? At that moment, a person ceases to be merely an heir and becomes a founder—the one who sets the rules of their world and takes responsibility for them.

The heir lives by inertia. He accepts not only the apartment, the language, and the family habits, but also the ready-made explanations: "this is how we do it," "this neighborhood has always been this way," "let those at the top decide." The heir waits, agrees, gets irritated, argues, but rarely changes anything within the reach of his own hands.

The founder acts differently. He begins with an inventory: what do I truly have—time, health, skills, connections, possessions, reputation? What drains my strength, and what restores it? Which habits do I repeat simply because that’s how people around me lived? The founder does not rewrite his entire life overnight—he sets up points of support from which he can move forward, and it is from these that he builds his first floor.

A support is not some abstract "strength of spirit," but a set of concrete decisions that we make ourselves and carry out ourselves.

1. Personal Perimeter. What is fully under my control today: my room, my stairwell, my workplace, conversations at home, my body, my schedule? Here each of us has the power to create order without permissions or endless discussions.

2. My Principles of Speech. I speak in a way that does not demean; when I feel a dispute has turned into a battle over “who’s right,” I stop: “It seems we’re looking from different angles. Let’s try to find a shared perspective, and if not, I suggest we close the topic.” This is not weakness but a choice to keep my energy from being wasted on noise.

3. Minimum Security. Food, sleep, basic income, documents, contacts, essential belongings. Without these, there is no stability and no creation. If something here is missing, the very first step is to strengthen or begin building exactly this foundation.

4. One Habitual Step a Day. The smallest one. Pick up a candy wrapper on the stairs and throw it away. Say “thank you” to the janitor or at least wish him a good day, lifting both his spirits and your own. Help an elderly neighbor carry her grocery bag – she may refuse out of modesty, but she will be grateful because it is difficult for her. Small is not heroism – and that is its strength: it is modest, but steady, because it repeats and gradually makes the world around a little kinder.

We all have different combinations of resources. This is not a reason to give up – it is a reason to build differently.

– If closer to survival. Focus on steps that bring immediate returns and require no investment: selling waste paper or scrap metal for money and keeping the collection site in order; small household services for fair pay; giving away items “to good hands” – to free up space and help neighbors. This means income, respect for the environment, and new connections.

– If in stability. Take steps that save resources and improve shared spaces: repair instead of replace; dispose of batteries once a month; take “stairwell duty” not formally, but genuinely; negotiate instead of ordering or quarreling.

– If in abundance. Help in ways that do not offend or create dependency: by request, with choice, quietly. Provide tools for those who earn with their hands. Cover the cost of a dumpster for construction debris after a renovation in the yard. Offer a scholarship or mentoring for a teenager on clear, respectful terms.

In any of these paths, we are not “fixing the whole world” – we are establishing our own, and it begins to resonate with those nearby. This is the shift from heir to founder: from passive waiting to active creation.

Everyone has the right to their own opinion; each person builds their world as they can, based on the start they had. Each has their own unique path. But there are areas where no one but ourselves can make a change. No one “from above” will pick up our cup, replace our conversation with a child, or correct our speech. In these zones, waiting means abandoning our own world. A founder does not look for the guilty; he looks for points of effort: “What exactly can I do right now, on my own square meter of earth?”

Yes, somewhere the elevator is stuck between floors – the system fails. But that is precisely why local solutions that require no permissions are so important: cleanliness, courtesy, predictability, help when asked. These are the bricks from which our house of values is built – visible and tangible.

A founder does not think in terms of “grand achievements,” but in repeated actions. One step does not change everything, but it triggers the next. In this sense, we are all a bit like engineers: setting simple, achievable tasks and repeating them until they become the norm. This way, not only does the space around us change – the way we see ourselves changes too: “I am capable.” From this point of support, it becomes easier to take the next level.

There is one important caveat. Being a founder does not mean “building your own at someone else’s expense.” On the contrary: your world becomes stronger when it is compatible with the worlds of others. We set boundaries and rules, but leave room for other people’s freedom. We bring order to our own space, but do not demand that everyone live “by our instructions.” We help – but first we analyze what kind of help is needed, and whether it is needed at all.

We came into life as heirs – with different cards, fortunes, and distortions. To become a founder means taking this inheritance and turning it into a foundation: defining your perimeter, setting rules for speech and support, choosing one repeatable step and holding it every day. From that moment, our world ceases to depend on someone else’s goodwill and begins to rest on our own choice.

“True unity is not in uniformity, but in the harmony of differences”

Rabindranath Tagore, poet, philosopher, and Nobel laureate

We build our own world, which inevitably intersects with the worlds of others. Like in a house with thin walls: if we put up barricades, the air disappears; if we live without boundaries, chaos arrives. Balance is the art of combining freedom and respect: I’m okay, you’re okay; my walls do not become your prison.

At home we are especially vulnerable and especially important to one another. Our rhythms, habits, and needs differ – sometimes radically. Balance begins with simple things: listening before responding; pausing when emotions rise above meaning; agreeing on rules before a conflict, not after. Care is not control and not “I know better how you should live.” Care is asking: “How can I help? In what way exactly?” – and accepting “no” if now is not the time.

We can keep a few quiet agreements: leave shared spaces cleaner than we found them; observe morning and evening “quiet hours” – not only about noise, but about tact; phrase requests without reproach. When the home is calm, we gain the strength to create outward as well.

Our small decisions in shared spaces multiply. A greeting in the elevator, closing the door behind us, picking up a candy wrapper at the entrance, a polite message in the house chat instead of “who made this mess?” – these are the building blocks of compatible worlds. At work it’s the same: giving feedback on time, setting clear deadlines, respecting others’ time, taking personal responsibility for the shared result.

On the internet, balance is especially fragile: it’s easy to turn someone else’s world into a target. If a conversation slips into “who’s right,” we can choose either to sort it out with facts or to respectfully close the topic. We don’t have to win every argument to remain human.

Skin color, nationality, orientation, or the shape of one’s eyes do not matter – what matters are the actions we take toward one another. In another country, people may look at us with surprise. Not because we are “bad,” but because to someone we are simply new. Today they look at us – tomorrow we will marvel at someone else’s custom or appearance. Instead of resentment, reproach, anger, or condemnation, it’s worth choosing curiosity and respect: to ask, to explain, to smile, or to pass by without sarcasm. In doing so, we protect our own world without breaking someone else’s.

Each of us carries our own “truth,” shaped by family stories, faith, views, teachers, and books. These truths form us and give meaning. But they are not grounds for hatred. We stand outside the struggle for the “one true” position. For us, there are two honest choices:Each person is a separate world with their own path. This path does not deserve negative judgment in itself. Judgment begins only where actions cause harm. Up to that line, there is the right to be different; beyond it, the right to defend boundaries.