Understanding is a three-edged sword. Your side, my side, and

“Understanding is a three-edged sword. Your side, my side, and the truth.” These words, uttered by J. Michael Straczynski, are forged with the wisdom of ages though born in modern times. The ancients too would have honored such a saying, for they knew that human conflict is never a simple matter of black and white. Every soul, when embroiled in dispute, sees the world through their own flame of passion. Each one wields a sharpened edge: your side, keen and bright with your convictions; my side, equally sharpened, defended with the steel of my reasoning. Yet both may strike blindly unless they encounter the third edge—the truth, the hidden blade that alone cuts through illusion and reveals reality.

This image of the three-edged sword is a reminder that no one man holds the fullness of truth in his hand. We cling to our side, convinced it is the only path, while others fight for theirs with equal certainty. The clash of perspectives often produces only sparks, but never light. Straczynski’s teaching calls us to recognize the unseen edge—the third—that transcends our pride and bias. To seek the truth beyond self-interest is to embrace the humility of wisdom, for the third edge cuts deeper than personal victory: it severs falsehood from reality.

History bears witness to this lesson. Recall the rivalry between Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, architects of America’s birth. Each man, brilliant and devoted, clung to his side of political philosophy—Jefferson to liberty’s expansion, Adams to the stability of order. Their quarrels grew bitter, their words sharp, their visions opposed. Yet when old age tempered them, they began to see beyond my side and your side, and together approached the deeper truth: that both liberty and order must walk hand in hand, lest a nation falter. Their reconciliation, sealed in letters, taught the generations that truth lies not in one voice alone, but in the harmony born of many.

But where men have refused this wisdom, ruin followed. Consider the great schism of the Christian church, when East and West clung each to their own side. Each proclaimed their doctrine as absolute, each wielded their edge with zeal. But in their blindness to the truth that unity itself was sacred, the body of Christendom split asunder, and centuries of division, mistrust, and even war followed. Where the third edge of truth was not sought, the sword did not heal, but maimed.

Therefore, my children, let this teaching pierce your hearts. When you contend with another, ask not only, “What is my side?” or “What is theirs?” Ask also, “Where dwells the truth between us?” For it is rarely found wholly in one camp. It lies hidden, like a pearl beneath the waves, and only those who dive deep together may find it. To cling only to your own blade is to wound; to honor the third is to heal.

Make this your practice: in moments of conflict, pause. Lay aside anger long enough to listen. Seek not to conquer the other’s side, but to uncover the truth that both may share. In discourse, ask questions rather than hurling accusations. In judgment, weigh not only the loud voice but the quiet fact. Train your heart to be a seeker of that third edge, the unseen truth, for there wisdom is born.

And remember: the sword with three edges is not meant for destruction, but for discernment. Your side may falter, my side may fail, but the truth endures, eternal as the stars. Let us wield not only the edges of pride, but the edge of reality, and in doing so, carve a path toward peace, justice, and understanding. For only in the third edge is the world made whole.