No one can persuade another to change. Each of us guards a gate

Opening Scene

The afternoon sun filters through the leaves of a nearby tree, casting delicate shadows on the room. The air feels light and warm, almost too perfect, as if the world has paused just long enough for a conversation to unfold. Inside, the space is cozy, quiet — the hum of the world outside faint but present. Jack is leaning back in an old, worn chair, the leather creaking under his weight. He looks out the window, his gaze distant, as though something in the distance is occupying his thoughts. Jeeny, sitting across from him, is lost in the pages of a book, but her eyes occasionally flicker up to watch Jack.

Host: The silence is comfortable, but there’s a tension in the air, something waiting to be explored. Jeeny, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, gently places the book down, her voice soft but curious.

Jeeny: “You ever feel like no matter what you say to someone, they just… don’t get it? Like, no matter how hard you try, they can’t hear you?”

Jack: “All the time. It’s like trying to talk to a wall. No matter what you say, it just bounces back. Makes you wonder if anything really works, if anyone can truly change.”

Jeeny: “I know what you mean. But what if that’s the whole point? What if we can’t change others, no matter how much we argue, no matter how much we appeal to their emotions? Marilyn Ferguson once said, ‘No one can persuade another to change. Each of us guards a gate of change that can only be opened from the inside.’”

Jack: “So, you’re saying people have to change on their own? That they have to open the gate themselves?”

Jeeny: “Exactly. We can’t force anyone to change, no matter how much we argue or try to reach them. The change has to come from within. It’s something each person has to decide for themselves, something they have to unlock on their own terms.”

Host: The weight of Jeeny’s words seems to fill the room, as if the air itself is waiting for Jack’s response. Jack’s fingers tap idly on the chair arm, his eyes narrowing as he processes the thought.

Jack: “But that feels kind of… helpless, doesn’t it? I mean, if we can’t even nudge someone, if we can’t help them see what we see, what’s the point of trying? Why even bother having conversations about change if we can’t make a difference?”

Jeeny: “I think it’s about realizing that we can’t make them change. The truth is, trying to change someone else’s mind, their beliefs, their habits — that’s not our job. What we can do is offer perspective, give them space to see something else, and trust that the change will come when they’re ready for it.”

Jack: “So it’s more about patience? About waiting for the other person to get to that point on their own?”

Jeeny: “It’s about respecting their journey. Some people change quickly, others take years. And some never change at all. But we can’t control that. We can only control how we respond to them, and whether we’re willing to respect their gate — the one they have to open when they’re ready.”

Host: The air in the room feels different now — lighter, somehow. It’s as though the conversation has opened a door that was previously closed. Jack leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he considers Jeeny’s words. The stillness around them seems to speak more than the words themselves.

Jack: “It’s funny, though. The idea that we can’t persuade anyone to change. We’re so used to thinking that if we just make the right argument, appeal to the right emotion, they’ll see things our way. But maybe that’s just a waste of energy.”

Jeeny: “It’s not a waste of energy to share what you believe, or to offer your perspective. It’s just that persuasion isn’t the point. The point is to be present, to offer something, and to accept that the other person might not be ready for it. And that’s okay.”

Jack: “I get that. It’s about offering, not forcing. About planting a seed and letting it grow, instead of trying to make it grow before it’s ready.”

Jeeny: “Exactly. We have to trust that people will open their own gates when the time is right for them. And sometimes, just being there for them, without pressure, is all we can do.”

Host: The conversation settles into a quiet peace. The tension in the room has shifted, not from resolution, but from understanding. Jack’s expression softens, as though a weight has been lifted, not because the issue has been solved, but because it has been accepted.

Jack: “So we just have to be patient. Offer what we can, but understand that people can only change when they’re ready. It’s not about forcing them, it’s about being present.”

Jeeny: “Exactly. And that’s where the real power lies — in knowing when to step back, when to let them find their own way. That’s how real change happens.”

Jack: “I think that’s something I’ve always struggled with. The idea that change has to come from within. But maybe that’s the most important part — acceptance. Of others, of ourselves.”

Host: The room feels more spacious now, as if the air itself is breathing easier. The conversation has unfolded like a quiet revelation, one that didn’t need an answer but simply a recognition of truth. Outside, the city continues its rhythm, but inside, there is stillness — a deep understanding that true change is a personal journey, one that cannot be forced, but only encouraged from within.

Jeeny: “It’s a lesson we all have to learn. We can’t open the gates for anyone, but we can create the space for them to open it themselves. And sometimes, that’s all we need to do.”

Jack: “And trust that when they’re ready, they will.”

Host: The night outside deepens, and with it, the understanding between them grows. The world continues its course, but here, in this room, Jack and Jeeny share a quiet peace, a recognition that change is something each person must open for themselves — and that, in the end, patience, respect, and presence are the greatest gifts we can offer.