Eight minutes into Marines, a new documentary series on Netflix, a young recruit looked into the camera and said something along this lines:

"Violence is the only interesting thing in life, that has any significance. Life without it is boring."

I thought, Seriously? The thought flashed hot, immediate. How could someone believe that? How could anyone see violence as noble, as necessary, as the antidote to boredom?

Then the second thought arrived. This man grew up in a world I've never known. Whatever shaped him taught him that violence matters. That it's real in a way peace never could be. For him, a life without violence doesn’t feel peaceful. It feels empty, pointless.

Someone like me, who grew up in different circumstances, thinks that a life with no violence is far from boring. It is ideal. I prefer getting along with people from every background. Violence doesn't add significance to my life. It adds stress and unwelcomed emotions, something to avoid at all costs.

Two men. Two completely different truths.

But Yogi Ramacharaka wrote that "if we were in exactly the same position as those who do wrong [or believe violence gives life meaning], with the same temperament, training, environment, and opportunity—would we do much better than they? All life is on the Path—we are all advancing slowly—often slipping back two feet for every three we advance, but still registering a net advance of one foot. And all are really trying to do the best they can. None of us are so very good or perfect—then why should we be so ready to condemn.”

That Marine is learning his lesson. I'm learning mine.

Different souls occupy different evolutionary classrooms. Some study violence because that's the curriculum they need right now. Others study peace because that's their path forward. Neither is superior. Both are necessary.

The recognition doesn't erase the gap between his worldview and mine. But it dissolves the judgment.