If you're going to have loyalties in this world of tribes and wars, have them not to your nationality or ethnicity or skin color. Have them not to your profession or gender or religion. If you're going to have loyalties in a realm as fractured as this one, have them to your breath. Under the veil of thought, be loyal to the breath that goes into and out of your lungs. When the bewitcher tempts you with a conviction, don't reject it or hate it or love it or consume it. Simply retrain your loyalty to your breath. Listen to your own heartbeat. Listen to it speed up in anxiety and slow down in relaxation. Feel the tingling in your digits as your nervous system conducts its business as usual. When indignation or righteousness or pride or fear or shame arise, as they inevitably do, do not reject them or hate them or love them or consume them. Simply retrain your loyalty to your breath. Be with the sensation of your clenched jaw, your nausea, your dry throat. Do not reject them or hate them or love them or consume them. Then when equanimity comes with a slow and tantalizing dance, do not reject it or hate it or love it or consume it, either. When morality besots you with tales of goodness or badness, when satisfaction turns coital, when prophetic knowledge sweetly holds up a mirror, when sight bestows upon you a lens of condescension, do not reject or hate or love or consume. Retrain your loyalty to your breath. See where it goes.