Rand Paul Is Back After Assault – Here’s What He Says Is ‘Weird’ About Neighbor’s Attack

Sen. Rand Paul (R-Ky.) is back after allegedly being jumped by a neighbor who broke several of his ribs while the lawmaker was working on his lawn at his Kentucky home.

In his first TV interview since the incident, Paul didn’t detail a motive for the attack, simply saying that he couldn’t hear anything because he was protecting his ears while mowing and he never saw the neighbor coming. He said the real question was whether or not you can attack someone, not if the assault was politically motivated.

“The weird thing is I haven’t talked to him in 10 years,” Paul said. “If someone mugs you, is it really justified for any reason?”

Pat and Stu debated the motivation behind Paul’s TV statement on today’s show, with Stu wondering if the senator is holding back because of an ongoing investigation into the incident.

This article provided courtesy of TheBlaze.

PAT: So, wow, that snowball continues to roll down the hill and gathers steam. Who knows where that will end? But also a sort of mysterious incident that's been kind of on the back burner for about a month now. The Rand Paul attack. The guy -- his next-door neighbor attacked him while he was getting off his riding lawn mower. He had earmuffs on to protect his hearing from the noise.

And the neighbor came racing across his lawn. And apparently slammed him into the tractor or the ground, hard enough to break six of his ribs.

STU: Jeez.

PAT: Now, here's Rand Paul's description of the attack from yesterday.

RAND: I was working in my yard with my earmuffs on, you know, to protect my hearing from the mower, and I had gotten off the mower, facing downhill. And the attacker came running. I never saw him. Never had a conversation. In fact, the weird thing is, I haven't talked to him in ten years.

PAT: That's just amazing.

STU: He has his headphones on. He's facing the other way. And there's a hill in front of him. And this guy runs and levels him at full speed without him even knowing it's coming, and he hasn't talked to the guy in ten years.

PAT: So bizarre. So bizarre.

He also talked about the motive behind the attack, sort of. Listen to this.

VOICE: Do you have any idea what was in his head?

RAND: Well, I didn't before the attack because we had no conversation.

After my ribs were broken, then he said things to me to try to indicate he was unhappy. But I think the -- I guess, to me, the bottom line is, it isn't so important -- if someone mugs you, is it really justified for any reason?

And so I think the more people belabored, oh, well, was it about yard clipping, was it because he hates Donald Trump, he hates you because you oppose Obamacare? You don't really know what's in someone's mind.

And so it may have some relevance. But for the most part, the real question should be, are you allowed to attack someone from behind in their yard when they're out mowing their grass?

PAT: That isn't the question. Because everyone knows the answer to it. No, of course not. That's not what we're saying.

On the one hand, he says, you can't know what's in someone's mind. Well, yeah, you do. Because he told you. And he said he told you. After he attacks -- why not tell us?

STU: Why not tell us?

PAT: Something really strange about that. I don't understand. Why?

STU: Yeah. I don't understand it either. Is it potentially that he's going to enter into legal action against this guy and doesn't want to talk about it publicly?

PAT: It could be.

STU: It certainly seems like he should. It seems like a worthwhile lawsuit. The idea that this guy would just come attack you for no reason in the middle of the yard though because he keeps -- he keeps -- he won't just say it.

PAT: Right.

STU: Just tell us what it is.

PAT: What did he say to you? Because he did explain it to him obviously. Because he said, he tried to explain to me why he was unhappy.

Well, why was he unhappy? What could be the reason for not telling, other than the lawsuit? But then maybe it's something embarrassing to Rand. I don't know.

STU: Fundamentally, of course, he's right, you can't just -- no matter what your complaint is, you can't just come and attack somebody in their yard when they're not looking. That's true. We all know that's true. That's not the fundamental question. Because it's too obvious. There's no intrigue to that question. We all get it.

Yes, his explanation here, whether it's politics, whether it is, you know, lawn clippings, whether it's something else, isn't all that important, as he should probably receive the same penalty either way.

That is of course not how our legal system is designed. Because our legal system says, if it's about politics, and he's attacking a senator about politics. It may be a federal crime, which may be much larger in penalty. A normal brawl with your neighbor might get you some prison time, depending how severe it is.

But when you're attacking a senator over political purposes, that's a totally different scale.

And that's why I think it really matters for this guy, because if that was his motivation, it might wind up being a much bigger deal for him.

PAT: Maybe he's -- maybe he doesn't want to make it a much bigger deal for him. Maybe it was politically motivated and he just doesn't want to say.

STU: It's weird.

PAT: We all have a tendency to start filling in the blanks, when the blanks aren't filled in for us. Because you just want to make sense of it. And we've had two situations lately, that the blanks haven't been filled in for us. The shooting in Las Vegas. And now this Rand Paul thing. So people are filling in the blanks.

STU: I'm glad you brought up the Vegas thing. Because what the hell is going on with that?

PAT: I don't know.

STU: 500 people were shot or more.

PAT: Yeah, more.

STU: And many died, obviously.

And --

PAT: We still don't know the time line. We don't know why he stopped shooting or when. You got the hotel version, and then you have the security version, and then you have the police version.

STU: And still nothing about this guy's motivation.

PAT: No.

STU: Very little from the people around him.

PAT: Which contributes to a bunch of conspiracy theories.

STU: Yeah. Which is dumb.

PAT: It is.

STU: You're right that human beings tend to fill in the blanks that are blank. Right? That's not necessarily good instinct though. People do a lot of crazy things.

PAT: So the kooks are filling in the blanks of the Vegas shooting, that these are crisis actors. And the shooting didn't actually happen. It's so absurd. So absurd.

Because we don't have the answer with Rand Paul, was that a crisis actor on Senator Paul's lawn mower? This didn't actually happen to him. It didn't happen.

STU: My belief was, it was not -- it was not a real lawn mower.

PAT: It was not a real lawn mower. That's what Senator Paul is trying to cover up. I don't have a real riding mower.

STU: Here's the thing, he was trying to get out of the house. Act like he was working.

PAT: I've done that before.

STU: In reality, he just had like a go-cart. It's not actually cutting the lawn. He just wanted to be out of the house.

PAT: Since he didn't get it finished. He had to tell his wife something.

STU: And he can't tell his wife. About lawn clippings because there was no lawn clippings. He wasn't mowing the lawn. That's what I believe happened.

PAT: I think you need to call Infowars.

STU: Oh, yeah.

PAT: Because I think that's probably accurate. I think we just stumbled on the truth right there. He wasn't actually mowing his lawn.

STU: Because, I mean, if you could get away with just going outside, turning on the mower, letting it run, and sitting on the other side, they hear the mower inside. They assume the grass is being cut.

PAT: Right.

STU: And in reality, you're still watching Netflix on your phone.

PAT: Yeah.

STU: That's not a bad approach.

Yeah. No. It's a weird thing. That is a strange story in that both of them, how do we not have more information? I guess with Rand Paul, it's one person. It's a bad attack. And he's a sitting US senator. It's a big deal. But it's not hundreds of people being shot and murdered for seemingly no apparent reason.

PAT: I still think -- I still think the -- the problem with the security guard is that he's -- he's maybe a dreamer, you know. He's here illegally.

Because he's been here I think most all of his life. But I'll bet he's an illegal alien. And nobody wants to say it. And that's probably why he isn't registered as a security guard. And Mandela bay doesn't want to say anything about hiring illegals and skipping the process and breaking the law. Because they had to be registered.

STU: He did do one interview.

PAT: He did one interview with Ellen, which was a softball interview, and she never got to the bottom of anything we wanted to know about.

STU: And he never wants to talk again. At some point, you would assume there's going to be an investigation where he's talking to authorities. And we'll eventually probably find that out.

It's amazing how the media -- this is not a minor thing. It's the worst mass shooting in history. Worst mass -- I shouldn't say in US history. Because go look at some communist regimes and see if there have been worst mass shootings than that. There have been. A lot of them, most of them worst mass shootings in history have all been done by governments. We should point out, something the left, when they talk about how the government should be controlling weapons should maybe learn that lesson.

But, yeah. This is a really, really bad one. An incredibly horrific story, with immense amounts of video too.

You know, there's one thing to have a mass shooting. We all hear those terrible stories. It's another thing -- we all feel like we kind of experience that one. When you feel like you're standing in the crowd watching Jason Aldean sing and all of a sudden people are being slaughtered around you, and there doesn't even seem to be an update, not even on a weekly basis -- we're getting nothing out of that story. It's very strange

PAT: Right. And it's almost two months now. It happened October 1st, right? So it's November 29th now. And two days -- it's December 1st. Two months from the event. And they filled in no blanks for us.

STU: Yeah. I would encourage you, if you're feeling the same way about this, to get a baseline. The New York Times put together an amazing piece of video and time line about when things happen and where things happen with video -- some video I had never seen before, of like cabdrivers that were pulling up to the Mandalay Bay, not knowing what was going on, just hearing the noises. I mean, and showing you where it was, what happened, at exactly what they think is the right time. Which, as you point out, there are some disagreements in the time line. But at least it gives you a general sense of what was happening, where it was happening. And some and some of that has been fleshed out. But still, motivation, nothing.

PAT: Nothing.

STU: Really, giant zilch. I mean, could this person have lived his entire life with no indication that he was going to do this and just do it? I guess it's possible.

But that's almost scarier in some ways. An Islamic extremist that does something like this, we all know, there are millions of Islamic extremists around the world, many of which have answered to pollsters that they want to kill innocent Americans.

PAT: Yeah.

STU: It's one thing to be dedicated to kill innocent Americans. It's another thing to say, you know what, I'm going to tell the pollster who just called me, you know what, yes, I would like to kill them. That's quite another -- that's quite another line.

Across the world and luckily the problem isn't as bad here obviously, but, you know, there are extremists all over the place that want to kill people.

And while it's terrible and dying is dying, you at least understand, there's something understandable about that.

I think it was Adam Lanza was the -- the guy in -- with the school in Sandy Hook. I think that was Adam Lanza. Sometimes I get these things confused. But one of the most terrible things about that, despite it being one of the worst crimes committed in American history probably. These are little children. Nothing to do with any of this. Anything.

But he seemingly -- guy didn't really have a story. You know, he was kind of -- he had some mental issues. You know, he -- he -- he played -- you know, he was obsessed with these shootings kind of.

That's kind of all we know. There really wasn't -- not that there's ever a satisfying answer to something like that. But at least, when there's an ideology behind it, you understand what occurred. And this one is even -- I mean, makes that one look like we have tons of information on it.

PAT: It's even more obscure.

STU: More obscure. It doesn't seem to be anything. Just, this guy had a bunch of weapons, and meticulously planned over a long period of time.

PAT: And a guy with access to $2 million. A wealthy guy, so strange.

EXPOSED: Why Eisenhower warned us about endless wars

PAUL J. RICHARDS / Staff | Getty Images

Donald Trump emphasizes peace through strength, reminding the world that the United States is willing to fight to win. That’s beyond ‘defense.’

President Donald Trump made headlines this week by signaling a rebrand of the Defense Department — restoring its original name, the Department of War.

At first, I was skeptical. “Defense” suggests restraint, a principle I consider vital to U.S. foreign policy. “War” suggests aggression. But for the first 158 years of the republic, that was the honest name: the Department of War.

A Department of War recognizes the truth: The military exists to fight and, if necessary, to win decisively.

The founders never intended a permanent standing army. When conflict came — the Revolution, the War of 1812, the trenches of France, the beaches of Normandy — the nation called men to arms, fought, and then sent them home. Each campaign was temporary, targeted, and necessary.

From ‘war’ to ‘military-industrial complex’

Everything changed in 1947. President Harry Truman — facing the new reality of nuclear weapons, global tension, and two world wars within 20 years — established a full-time military and rebranded the Department of War as the Department of Defense. Americans resisted; we had never wanted a permanent army. But Truman convinced the country it was necessary.

Was the name change an early form of political correctness? A way to soften America’s image as a global aggressor? Or was it simply practical? Regardless, the move created a permanent, professional military. But it also set the stage for something Truman’s successor, President Dwight “Ike” Eisenhower, famously warned about: the military-industrial complex.

Ike, the five-star general who commanded Allied forces in World War II and stormed Normandy, delivered a harrowing warning during his farewell address: The military-industrial complex would grow powerful. Left unchecked, it could influence policy and push the nation toward unnecessary wars.

And that’s exactly what happened. The Department of Defense, with its full-time and permanent army, began spending like there was no tomorrow. Weapons were developed, deployed, and sometimes used simply to justify their existence.

Peace through strength

When Donald Trump said this week, “I don’t want to be defense only. We want defense, but we want offense too,” some people freaked out. They called him a warmonger. He isn’t. Trump is channeling a principle older than him: peace through strength. Ronald Reagan preached it; Trump is taking it a step further.

Just this week, Trump also suggested limiting nuclear missiles — hardly the considerations of a warmonger — echoing Reagan, who wanted to remove missiles from silos while keeping them deployable on planes.

The seemingly contradictory move of Trump calling for a Department of War sends a clear message: He wants Americans to recognize that our military exists not just for defense, but to project power when necessary.

Trump has pointed to something critically important: The best way to prevent war is to have a leader who knows exactly who he is and what he will do. Trump signals strength, deterrence, and resolve. You want to negotiate? Great. You don’t? Then we’ll finish the fight decisively.

That’s why the world listens to us. That’s why nations come to the table — not because Trump is reckless, but because he means what he says and says what he means. Peace under weakness invites aggression. Peace under strength commands respect.

Trump is the most anti-war president we’ve had since Jimmy Carter. But unlike Carter, Trump isn’t weak. Carter’s indecision emboldened enemies and made the world less safe. Trump’s strength makes the country stronger. He believes in peace as much as any president. But he knows peace requires readiness for war.

Names matter

When we think of “defense,” we imagine cybersecurity, spy programs, and missile shields. But when we think of “war,” we recall its harsh reality: death, destruction, and national survival. Trump is reminding us what the Department of Defense is really for: war. Not nation-building, not diplomacy disguised as military action, not endless training missions. War — full stop.

Chip Somodevilla / Staff | Getty Images

Names matter. Words matter. They shape identity and character. A Department of Defense implies passivity, a posture of reaction. A Department of War recognizes the truth: The military exists to fight and, if necessary, to win decisively.

So yes, I’ve changed my mind. I’m for the rebranding to the Department of War. It shows strength to the world. It reminds Americans, internally and externally, of the reality we face. The Department of Defense can no longer be a euphemism. Our military exists for war — not without deterrence, but not without strength either. And we need to stop deluding ourselves.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Unveiling the Deep State: From surveillance to censorship

Chip Somodevilla / Staff | Getty Images

From surveillance abuse to censorship, the deep state used state power and private institutions to suppress dissent and influence two US elections.

The term “deep state” has long been dismissed as the province of cranks and conspiracists. But the recent declassification of two critical documents — the Durham annex, released by Sen. Chuck Grassley (R-Iowa), and a report publicized by Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard — has rendered further denial untenable.

These documents lay bare the structure and function of a bureaucratic, semi-autonomous network of agencies, contractors, nonprofits, and media entities that together constitute a parallel government operating alongside — and at times in opposition to — the duly elected one.

The ‘deep state’ is a self-reinforcing institutional machine — a decentralized, global bureaucracy whose members share ideological alignment.

The disclosures do not merely recount past abuses; they offer a schematic of how modern influence operations are conceived, coordinated, and deployed across domestic and international domains.

What they reveal is not a rogue element operating in secret, but a systematized apparatus capable of shaping elections, suppressing dissent, and laundering narratives through a transnational network of intelligence, academia, media, and philanthropic institutions.

Narrative engineering from the top

According to Gabbard’s report, a pivotal moment occurred on December 9, 2016, when the Obama White House convened its national security leadership in the Situation Room. Attendees included CIA Director John Brennan, Director of National Intelligence James Clapper, National Security Agency Director Michael Rogers, FBI Deputy Director Andrew McCabe, Attorney General Loretta Lynch, Secretary of State John Kerry, and others.

During this meeting, the consensus view up to that point — that Russia had not manipulated the election outcome — was subordinated to new instructions.

The record states plainly: The intelligence community was directed to prepare an assessment “per the President’s request” that would frame Russia as the aggressor and then-presidential candidate Donald Trump as its preferred candidate. Notably absent was any claim that new intelligence had emerged. The motivation was political, not evidentiary.

This maneuver became the foundation for the now-discredited 2017 intelligence community assessment on Russian election interference. From that point on, U.S. intelligence agencies became not neutral evaluators of fact but active participants in constructing a public narrative designed to delegitimize the incoming administration.

Institutional and media coordination

The ODNI report and the Durham annex jointly describe a feedback loop in which intelligence is laundered through think tanks and nongovernmental organizations, then cited by media outlets as “independent verification.” At the center of this loop are agencies like the CIA, FBI, and ODNI; law firms such as Perkins Coie; and NGOs such as the Open Society Foundations.

According to the Durham annex, think tanks including the Atlantic Council, the Carnegie Endowment, and the Center for a New American Security were allegedly informed of Clinton’s 2016 plan to link Trump to Russia. These institutions, operating under the veneer of academic independence, helped diffuse the narrative into public discourse.

Media coordination was not incidental. On the very day of the aforementioned White House meeting, the Washington Post published a front-page article headlined “Obama Orders Review of Russian Hacking During Presidential Campaign” — a story that mirrored the internal shift in official narrative. The article marked the beginning of a coordinated media campaign that would amplify the Trump-Russia collusion narrative throughout the transition period.

Surveillance and suppression

Surveillance, once limited to foreign intelligence operations, was turned inward through the abuse of FISA warrants. The Steele dossier — funded by the Clinton campaign via Perkins Coie and Fusion GPS — served as the basis for wiretaps on Trump affiliates, despite being unverified and partially discredited. The FBI even altered emails to facilitate the warrants.

ROBYN BECK / Contributor | Getty Images

This capacity for internal subversion reappeared in 2020, when 51 former intelligence officials signed a letter labeling the Hunter Biden laptop story as “Russian disinformation.” According to polling, 79% of Americans believed truthful coverage of the laptop could have altered the election. The suppression of that story — now confirmed as authentic — was election interference, pure and simple.

A machine, not a ‘conspiracy theory’

The deep state is a self-reinforcing institutional machine — a decentralized, global bureaucracy whose members share ideological alignment and strategic goals.

Each node — law firms, think tanks, newsrooms, federal agencies — operates with plausible deniability. But taken together, they form a matrix of influence capable of undermining electoral legitimacy and redirecting national policy without democratic input.

The ODNI report and the Durham annex mark the first crack in the firewall shielding this machine. They expose more than a political scandal buried in the past. They lay bare a living system of elite coordination — one that demands exposure, confrontation, and ultimately dismantling.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Trump's proposal explained: Ukraine's path to peace without NATO expansion

ANDREW CABALLERO-REYNOLDS / Contributor | Getty Images

Strategic compromise, not absolute victory, often ensures lasting stability.

When has any country been asked to give up land it won in a war? Even if a nation is at fault, the punishment must be measured.

After World War I, Germany, the main aggressor, faced harsh penalties under the Treaty of Versailles. Germans resented the restrictions, and that resentment fueled the rise of Adolf Hitler, ultimately leading to World War II. History teaches that justice for transgressions must avoid creating conditions for future conflict.

Ukraine and Russia must choose to either continue the cycle of bloodshed or make difficult compromises in pursuit of survival and stability.

Russia and Ukraine now stand at a similar crossroads. They can cling to disputed land and prolong a devastating war, or they can make concessions that might secure a lasting peace. The stakes could not be higher: Tens of thousands die each month, and the choice between endless bloodshed and negotiated stability hinges on each side’s willingness to yield.

History offers a guide. In 1967, Israel faced annihilation. Surrounded by hostile armies, the nation fought back and seized large swaths of territory from Jordan, Egypt, and Syria. Yet Israel did not seek an empire. It held only the buffer zones needed for survival and returned most of the land. Security and peace, not conquest, drove its decisions.

Peace requires concessions

Secretary of State Marco Rubio says both Russia and Ukraine will need to “get something” from a peace deal. He’s right. Israel proved that survival outweighs pride. By giving up land in exchange for recognition and an end to hostilities, it stopped the cycle of war. Egypt and Israel have not fought in more than 50 years.

Russia and Ukraine now press opposing security demands. Moscow wants a buffer to block NATO. Kyiv, scarred by invasion, seeks NATO membership — a pledge that any attack would trigger collective defense by the United States and Europe.

President Donald Trump and his allies have floated a middle path: an Article 5-style guarantee without full NATO membership. Article 5, the core of NATO’s charter, declares that an attack on one is an attack on all. For Ukraine, such a pledge would act as a powerful deterrent. For Russia, it might be more palatable than NATO expansion to its border

Andrew Harnik / Staff | Getty Images

Peace requires concessions. The human cost is staggering: U.S. estimates indicate 20,000 Russian soldiers died in a single month — nearly half the total U.S. casualties in Vietnam — and the toll on Ukrainians is also severe. To stop this bloodshed, both sides need to recognize reality on the ground, make difficult choices, and anchor negotiations in security and peace rather than pride.

Peace or bloodshed?

Both Russia and Ukraine claim deep historical grievances. Ukraine arguably has a stronger claim of injustice. But the question is not whose parchment is older or whose deed is more valid. The question is whether either side is willing to trade some land for the lives of thousands of innocent people. True security, not historical vindication, must guide the path forward.

History shows that punitive measures or rigid insistence on territorial claims can perpetuate cycles of war. Germany’s punishment after World War I contributed directly to World War II. By contrast, Israel’s willingness to cede land for security and recognition created enduring peace. Ukraine and Russia now face the same choice: Continue the cycle of bloodshed or make difficult compromises in pursuit of survival and stability.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

The loneliness epidemic: Are machines replacing human connection?

NurPhoto / Contributor | Getty Images

Seniors, children, and the isolated increasingly rely on machines for conversation, risking real relationships and the emotional depth that only humans provide.

Jill Smola is 75 years old. She’s a retiree from Orlando, Florida, and she spent her life caring for the elderly. She played games, assembled puzzles, and offered company to those who otherwise would have sat alone.

Now, she sits alone herself. Her husband has died. She has a lung condition. She can’t drive. She can’t leave her home. Weeks can pass without human interaction.

Loneliness is an epidemic. And AI will not fix it. It will only dull the edges and make a diminished life tolerable.

But CBS News reports that she has a new companion. And she likes this companion more than her own daughter.

The companion? Artificial intelligence.

She spends five hours a day talking to her AI friend. They play games, do trivia, and just talk. She says she even prefers it to real people.

My first thought was simple: Stop this. We are losing our humanity.

But as I sat with the story, I realized something uncomfortable. Maybe we’ve already lost some of our humanity — not to AI, but to ourselves.

Outsourcing presence

How often do we know the right thing to do yet fail to act? We know we should visit the lonely. We know we should sit with someone in pain. We know what Jesus would do: Notice the forgotten, touch the untouchable, offer time and attention without outsourcing compassion.

Yet how often do we just … talk about it? On the radio, online, in lectures, in posts. We pontificate, and then we retreat.

I asked myself: What am I actually doing to close the distance between knowing and doing?

Human connection is messy. It’s inconvenient. It takes patience, humility, and endurance. AI doesn’t challenge you. It doesn’t interrupt your day. It doesn’t ask anything of you. Real people do. Real people make us confront our pride, our discomfort, our loneliness.

We’ve built an economy of convenience. We can have groceries delivered, movies streamed, answers instantly. But friendships — real relationships — are slow, inefficient, unpredictable. They happen in the blank spaces of life that we’ve been trained to ignore.

And now we’re replacing that inefficiency with machines.

AI provides comfort without challenge. It eliminates the risk of real intimacy. It’s an elegant coping mechanism for loneliness, but a poor substitute for life. If we’re not careful, the lonely won’t just be alone — they’ll be alone with an anesthetic, a shadow that never asks for anything, never interrupts, never makes them grow.

Reclaiming our humanity

We need to reclaim our humanity. Presence matters. Not theory. Not outrage. Action.

It starts small. Pull up a chair for someone who eats alone. Call a neighbor you haven’t spoken to in months. Visit a nursing home once a month — then once a week. Ask their names, hear their stories. Teach your children how to be present, to sit with someone in grief, without rushing to fix it.

Turn phones off at dinner. Make Sunday afternoons human time. Listen. Ask questions. Don’t post about it afterward. Make the act itself sacred.

Humility is central. We prefer machines because we can control them. Real people are inconvenient. They interrupt our narratives. They demand patience, forgiveness, and endurance. They make us confront ourselves.

A friend will challenge your self-image. A chatbot won’t.

Our homes are quieter. Our streets are emptier. Loneliness is an epidemic. And AI will not fix it. It will only dull the edges and make a diminished life tolerable.

Before we worry about how AI will reshape humanity, we must first practice humanity. It can start with 15 minutes a day of undivided attention, presence, and listening.

Change usually comes when pain finally wins. Let’s not wait for that. Let’s start now. Because real connection restores faster than any machine ever will.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.