Not everyone can see the truth, but he can be it.

“Not everyone can see the truth, but he can be it.” So spoke Franz Kafka, a man whose writings cut into the marrow of existence, revealing the loneliness, the struggle, and the strange dignity of the human condition. His words carry the sorrow of one who lived in a world of veils, where the truth was often hidden, distorted, or ignored. Yet in this brief sentence he gave us a teaching of eternal depth: not all will perceive truth with their eyes, but every soul may embody it with their life.

What does it mean to see the truth? To see is to understand, to recognize reality as it is. But many are blinded by prejudice, desire, or fear. They may look directly at truth and dismiss it, mock it, or deny it. The history of prophets, philosophers, and martyrs reveals this pattern: the truth-teller is often ridiculed or despised because men do not want to see what they are not prepared to accept. Yet Kafka tells us there is a greater task than seeing—it is to be the truth, to live it so fully that one’s very existence bears witness to it.

The ancients knew this. Socrates, standing before the court of Athens, was condemned for corrupting the youth. Few of his accusers could truly see the truth in his teaching. Yet he remained steadfast, drinking the hemlock with calm courage. Though many could not see it, he was the truth—his life a testimony to integrity, his death a seed of wisdom that grew for centuries. In his silence, in his obedience to the inner voice, Socrates embodied the very principle Kafka describes.

History offers another tale in the life of Mahatma Gandhi. Many mocked his vision of nonviolence as weakness. Few could see the truth that he declared—that the mightiest empire could be undone without sword or gun. Yet Gandhi did not merely argue for truth; he lived it. In his fasting, in his marches, in his humility, he became the truth of his teaching. Millions who could not see at first were awakened by the light of his example. For when truth is embodied, even the blind begin to feel its presence.

Kafka’s wisdom pierces deeper still. To be the truth is not only for prophets and saints. It is for every man and woman who chooses to live authentically, without falsehood, without pretense. Even if the world does not understand, even if others mock or deny, the soul that lives in alignment with truth is like a flame in darkness. Not everyone sees the flame—but it still burns, it still warms, it still gives light.

Therefore, children of the future, heed this lesson: do not despair if others cannot see the truth you hold. Their blindness does not make it less real. Your task is not to force their vision but to live so honestly, so faithfully, that your very being becomes a testimony. Speak truth gently, act truth boldly, and let your life itself be a mirror of what is eternal.

Let your practice be this: when tempted to disguise yourself, remember that to live in falsehood is to wound the soul. When frustrated that others do not understand, remember that their sight is not yours to control. What you can control is your own alignment with truth—in thought, in word, in deed. Be consistent, be courageous, and be humble. For though not everyone can see the truth, anyone can be it—and in being it, you become the living seed of change in the world.