Today, I was struck by a memory from Lilo and Stitch—a moment where Lilo, a little girl, teaches the alien Stitch about morality. What fascinates me about this scene is how Lilo communicates such a complex idea using a simple, visual representation. She doesn’t rely on heavy philosophy or elaborate reasoning. Instead, she distills the concepts of "good" and "bad" into something tangible and accessible: a child’s drawing, simple shapes, and colors.

Reflecting on this moment, I’m reminded of the power of simplicity in bridging barriers. Lilo doesn’t just communicate morality; she connects. In Stitch’s case, she breaks through inter-species and language barriers, reaching a being who likely has no prior framework for understanding human ethics. This scene speaks volumes about empathy, creativity, and how we can approach teaching—and even healing—in ways that resonate universally.

The drawing from the scene, with its bold contrast of "good" and "bad" using contrasting colors, captures the dychotomy spirit of behavior. It’s not just a childlike simplicity; it’s ingenuity. It reminds me that morality, though often tangled in philosophy and dogma, can also be understood intuitively. We all have an innate sense of what it means to help or harm, to build or destroy. By distilling these ideas into a visual language, we invite others—regardless of their background, abilities, or even species—to join the conversation.

This scene also makes me reflect on the broader implications for human communication. How often do we overcomplicate things, creating unnecessary barriers? In a world divided by language, culture, and belief, perhaps simplicity is the answer. What if more of our messages—about justice, empathy, or even science—were translated into universal visuals like Lilo’s drawing? Could we make complex ideas more accessible to everyone, fostering understanding and cooperation across divides?

In a way, this also ties into the idea of neurodivergence. For someone like me, who often feels overwhelmed by the sheer complexity of thoughts and emotions, the act of simplifying a concept can be profoundly grounding. It’s a reminder that the truth doesn’t need to be buried under layers of abstraction. Sometimes, it’s as simple as a red and white drawing on a blue background.

Lilo’s lesson to Stitch was more than just an explanation of morality—it was an act of compassion. She saw Stitch not as a monster but as someone capable of understanding, growing, and being part of her family. She met him where he was, using creativity and love as her tools. That’s a lesson worth carrying forward: the value of meeting others where they are, communicating with them in ways they can understand, and believing in their potential to grow.

Maybe we all need a little more of Lilo’s wisdom. In a world that often feels alien, perhaps the simplest messages—the ones crafted with empathy and creativity—are the ones that matter most.