What a delightful conversation with Bill Reed, whose name has become synonymous with “regeneration.”

* We continually wove between 30,000 feet and the intimacy of our human core.

* We explored the process and frameworks that underpin regenerative transformation, whatever your cause or sector.

* We identified how our conditioning and social norms may get in the way.

* And Bill kindly shared some of what it takes (curiosity, humility, knowledge, artful questions) to lead — facilitate — such profound, irresistible change.

How to ask for what it takes to create regenerative transformation?

When we discussed how changemakers can secure the permission to pursue emergent outcomes — not just quote and report on time spent — Bill generously offered to share a generalized proposal with us! Click here to access.

Thank you, Dominique Hes, Shana Rappaport, Joe Karten, Krsna PROUT Domine, RegenEarth Studio, and all others for tuning in. For all who could not, here’s the recording, which you can watch or hear on Substack OR as a podcast on Spotify or Apple.

Changemakers’ Handbook is an audience-supported publication. To access all posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Want to join future LIVEs?

Substack is new to most of us. Live participation is open only to those with accounts (anonymous will do! And if you got this via email, you’re a mere couple of clicks away). Get the Substack App to get calendar notification of upcoming LIVEs as well as of all new content.

Questions for you:

* How does this refine your understanding/definition of “regenerative”?

* If you are a regenerative practitioner, whatever your filled, what further practical advice might you offer us?

* What do you wish Bill and I covered?

For the context and resources referenced in this discussion:

* About Bill Reed.

* About Regenesis.

* About Elena’s current PhD research into changemaking: the scope and the vision.

* BOOK: Total Reset: Realigning With Our Timeless, Holistic Blueprint for Living. Greg Campbell. 2023.

* BOOK: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Robert M. Pirsig. 1974.

* Elena’s troubleshooting of the global green building movement.

I have danced since birth. Yet, last month, I danced for the first time in nearly four years. And for the first time in a long time, I remembered what it meant to feel fully alive.

As a dancer, I am internationally spoiled. So, in this small town, I wasn’t chasing technical virtuosity or majestic venues. Yet, I was floored by something profound: the possibilities accessible only through connection. Music carried me — its rhythms bypassing my mind and letting my body feel joy I hadn’t realized I missed, amplified by the willingness of strangers to move together.

I have danced since birth

I first danced in the arms of my parents, both uncanny natural dancers despite never having formal training. Then, on my dad’s feet before he made me, a child, his preferred dance partner in front of crowds, in any country, opening any dance floor as if we were the only two people in the room.

Our family life was often uncertain, scary, and even violent. Dancing became my sanctuary. Music slipped under every mental defense. Outmaneuvered every calculation. Calmed every worry. In its rhythms, I had access to something denied in every other part of my life: presence in my body, joy in the moment, freedom from fear.

Over decades, I became a versatile dancer, able to move alone or with anyone, anywhere, to any song. When I left the imploding Soviet Union at fifteen for Dallas, Texas, I landed in a world that felt utterly alien. Even as I moved countries eight times, dancing was my harbor. Adrift elsewhere, I could at least always read the dancef loor: a glance that acknowledged another’s presence, subtle eye contact that invited participation, a rhythm shared with others that said, you belong here right now. Through and within movement, I have navigated trust, social norms, connection, and belonging.

Image credit: Tom Frazier, from a competition in 2007.

Intentionally protecting dance from the fate of every other hobby that had died once it became a task, I only competed a few times despite immersion in some of the world’s best dance scenes. Yet nearly four years had passed since I danced with other dancers when I did something radical in its simplicity: I looked up the local dance socials. Lucky for me, it would shortly be the “first Tuesday of the month,” when both blues and salsa were scheduled. I decided, there and then, not just to go dancing, but to split my time between two events.

I daydreamed about it all Monday

On Tuesday morning, I was hyper-productive, running through tasks faster than usual. I faced the nearly three-hour walk into town and a racing mind: so out of practice, how much worse will I be than I used to be? What if my body simply cannot bear the workout in my 40s? I don’t know the local etiquette! Will these shoes even work, now that I have no appropriate dancing attire?

Amid all that internal dialogue, a surprising mantra emerged: everyone’s life will be better off if I dance. Having danced with a couple thousand people — most of whom would have never asked me to dance had I not asked them — perhaps wouldn’t even be there had I not coaxed them out — that is a known statistical probability. When I dance, the joy of the music has itself an amplifier. A single song shared can shift an entire room.

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Am I the best version of myself when I dance?

When I dance, my mind is off-duty. The teacher and coach in me come through graciously. Most importantly, my inner joy is on display. I will delight moving to any song with any respectful partner. I do not analyze. I do not perform. I respond. Every decision is about musical interpretation and connection, not logic.

Connecting the dots to changemaking

When I dance, I am that “first follower” to my dance partner. Because of the silent power I have learned to command, I am also an inconspicuous conductor of a real-time collective experience for everybody involved. I have the power to validate and inspire the band. To bring out the best in my dance partner. To instigate a broader shared experience if I activate other dancers. To offer multiple permission structures for anybody to give it a go. To create a memory that has the power to shape one’s self-concept and aspirations.

By the time I talked myself down for the n-th time during that walk, I managed to convince myself that even as an imperfect “follow”, I hold immense power to shape the experience of dozens of people that evening — for the better. Which got me to my comfort zone: that it wasn’t about me as much as about the role I could play in an amazing collective thing.

It is hard to call it for what it is — power — because good, non-ego-driven people aren’t supposed to know or act in our power. To dare influence others for fear that we might manipulate. This stigma is a problem for individuals and for communities that hold futures in their hands.

If we embrace our change work, we must embrace our power. Then, when we leverage its toolkit (which I am developing through my current PhD research), we can steer individuals while consensually shaping collective experiences, simply by presence and responsiveness.

Changemakers’ Handbook is an audience-supported publication. To access all posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

By now, you may be asking: if dancing means so friggin much to her — if she thinks about it this deeply — why don’t she just… dance?

What gets in the way of doing what we love?

You know the answer.

Almost everything — when it should be nothing. Raising a family, commuting, obligations. Non-dancing partners often struggle with the intimacy, trust, or elation involved in what somebody like me views as a three-minute interpretation of the art that is a song — as expressive as spoken word, as intimate as live drawing.

Following vs Leading — in dance and changemaking

Leading and following are often mistaken for dominance and submission, in dance and in work. What a pity!

In my youth, I thought that following meant utter submission. There is a common misconception — on the dance floor and in leadership — that making the call holds more power than following. With years of dancing, leadership, and reflection, I’ve learned that following is the vital, creative core of collaboration. And that a leader cannot truly lead until they follow fully and willingly.

In dance, the lead offers structure and enables risk-taking, but it is the follow who realizes that potential, moment by moment, shaping the experience for both dancers and audience. Together, lead and follow create something neither could do alone — a lesson that resonates beyond the dance floor. I even subscribe to the view that without a follow, a lead is just a lone nut.

A sidebar on somatic self-awareness

Shared movement is a proven tool for regulating stress and enhancing well-being. Emily Nagoski and Amelia Nagoski highlight in Burnout that moving together — even briefly — synchronizes bodies, increases joy, and deepens connection, offering a tangible antidote to fatigue, emotional depletion, and isolation.

Dancing as Impact

That Tuesday, dancing with strangers, I realized that making a positive impact doesn’t always require mastering leadership theories or complex systems. Sometimes, it’s simpler: just a shared rhythm.

Listen. Respond. Care. Imagine. Execute together. Co-create a fleeting work of art that lingers in memory and spirit.

Image credit: Sharo Era from Pixabay

Connection as Action

In many well-meaning circles, connection is treated like a passive, feel-good state — something to “be” rather than to do. That’s another misconception changemakers cannot accept.

In dance, if I am not actively engaged, my lead has nothing to work with — no cues, no feedback, no chance of co-creating something alive. Beautiful movement arises only when partners are fully present, attuned to where the other is, and willing to grant a measure of autonomy.

Think of connection like physics: zero connection is zero gravity—floating, inert, suspended. Friction is connection—the subtle resistance that lets energy transfer, that allows movement to take shape. Acceleration is the product of that connection. Every lift, turn, improvisation, or ensemble movement relies on it. Without it, we drift. With it, we propel each other forward.

In work, in leadership, and in change-making, connection functions the same way.

Rather than some luxury or a soft indulgence, connection is the active condition that transforms intention into action, potential into progress, and ideas into momentum. To be “connected” is not to rest — it is to participate, to be active, to be felt and to leave your mark in return.

I left that evening reminded: joy and connection are not rare metals; they are boundless and renewable resources accessible through any human moment, if only we allow ourselves to be moved, even for a few minutes. Before our mind ever catches on, movement can make us remember what we did not know we forgot. Even small gestures of trust, responsiveness, and playfulness ripple far beyond their moment.

So, I ask you: care to dance?

Want to be a better dancer (literally)?

* Imagine that the song plays between your shoulder blades

Not in your head, legs, chest, or arms. Actively hold it in the middle of your back, letting it ripple through your body and inform every movement. You will know if you did this because you will be a bit sore the next couple of days!

* Lead or follow, choose one and embrace its power

As a lead, turn your follow’s missteps into opportunities — just like in leadership, unintended outcomes can spell innovation. As a follow, hold your action until you’ve received a lead. Intentionally delay your response by a fraction of a second. It will appear perfectly synchronized while giving you time to respond to your partner’s direction.

My questions for you:

* When have you felt fully seen or alive through shared movement or activity?

* Think about a moment in a transformational movement when connection felt “zero gravity” vs. full acceleration—what made the difference?

* How could you apply the lead/follow insight in your work or relationships?

* What, if any, room have you made for physical movement in your changemaking?

* If we have danced together, what was that like for you? I am not fishing for compliments —I want honest reflection because if I’m full of sh**, I’d like to know!

What if the single most powerful tool you have to change the world isn’t data, funding, or strategy — but your own story?

The forces we oppose rely unapologetically on the world’s best tools to influence public sentiment and behavior. So why do changemakers hold back?

Changemakers working on behalf of social and environmental justice often feel that “branding” efforts undercut the merit of their cause. That to ask, “How can I better cut through?” is to sell out, somehow.

Is it any wonder that most movements I have helped launch, scale, or diagnose have zero branding, marketing, advertising, or PR professionals in the room? And is it that surprising that their opposition — better resourced and media-savvy — continues to “win”?

I brought all this “messiness” to my Substack LIVE conversation with Anna Vatuone — a dear friend, prolific personal brand strategist, and the author of Lonely Girl. Anna has helped me — with grace and direction — confront my own stigma and embrace what modern media has to offer our work.

Our individual stories are gateways to truths others may only see through our eyes.

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Influencing hearts and minds is at the core of successful movements. So, how can changemakers harness the power of storytelling? How can we leverage personal branding when it is for a cause, and how do our own stories contribute to the transformation we target?

Here’s what stood out most for me (and might for you too):

* We questioned whether “personal branding” is even the right term when the goal is authentic, actionable connection.

* We discussed the (mis)conception many changemakers have about social media as performative self-promotion; as a vanity project — when in reality it can amplify their cause.

* One stand-out moment for me was Anna saying, “We’re not brands, we’re people.” It reminded me afresh that our individual stories are gateways to truths others may only see through our eyes.

* On my own example, we confirmed that authenticity can — and should — look different for introverts and those who aren’t “social media people.”

* We identified one powerful advantage changemakers already have in creating online presence: a strong sense of “Why.”

* Most importantly, we explored the alternative: if people don’t make decisions based on facts as much as on emotional connection, then the only way to change the world is to put ourselves out there.

Thank you, Paul Bierman, Megan White, Patrick, Stefanie Mullen, Laurie Sirois, and all others who tuned in LIVE.

The point of personal branding isn’t to turn people into brands at all. The point is to help people trust their voice, and use it to connect with others — without feeling like they have to sell themselves, or sell out in the process. — Anna Vatuone

Here is Anna’s own post on her reflections, astute as ever!

About Anna

Anna Vatuone is a writer, storyteller, and personal brand strategist. She is the author of Lonely Girl, a memoir first serialized on Substack, and the founder of Personal Brand Accelerator, where she helps entrepreneurs, authors, and creators clarify their message, tell their story, and post with confidence online. Alongside her writing and coaching, she hosts the Personal Branding Podcast, sharing the journeys of creators who have built their own personal brands and the insights they’ve gained along the way. Her work and teaching have resonated with more than 250,000 followers across social media.

Before you go, I’d love to hear from you:

* What resonated most?

* Did this dialogue shift your perspective on personal branding, storytelling, or social media?

* What might you do differently going forward?

Changemakers’ Handbook is an audience-supported publication. To access all posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

To dive deeper:

* Watch the full conversation in the video above.

* Connect with Anna via her Substack All Of Me or her personal site.

* Explore her book Lonely Girl (Amazon) — which I had the honor of editing (and being Anna’s “book doula”!).

* If you’re interested in book writing/publishing, check out our earlier conversation on that topic.

* And if you’re looking for tailored support in your changemaking, reach out — I’ve supported countless changemakers in creating their legacy worldwide and would love to hear from you.

In my last post on movement building, I explored how movements can flail, fail, or forge ahead depending on their ability to inspire, galvanize people, and recalibrate the status quo. Today, I want to focus on the latter by turning to one of the least glamorous — but most decisive — arenas where change is forged: regulatory reform.

TL;DR / Summary

* Inspiration alone is not enough; regulatory reform drives lasting transformation.

* Through inspiration and innovation, voluntary programs raise the ceiling. Regulation lifts the floor— securing justice, safety, and equity for all.

* Historical and modern examples — from sidewalks in 19th-century London to blockchain token rules today — show what’s possible when movements claim the rules.

* Changemakers must step up, claim power, and enshrine change in law, or risk leaving the world to settle for less.

Image credit: Sonja Alphonso from Pixabay

Why most movements f(l)ail

Movements recast the world. Movements fail. The difference? Regulation.

Aspiration is fun. Thrilling. Rewarding. You feel your impact tug at collective heartstrings. Regulation? Not so much. It’s abstract. Bureaucratic. Legalese-heavy. Invisible. But it’s the engine of real impact.

Inspiration without regulation is hype that fizzles out.

Laws are leverage points. They lock in privilege — or justice. They decide who lives, who breathes, who is safe, who is blamed. Regulation is where values crystallize into practice. Where norms harden into rules. Where “should” becomes “must.”

Inspiration thrills. Regulation saves lives.

Done right, regulation is not red tape — it’s the connective tissue between aspiration and transformation.

And yet, most movements treat regulatory reform like a dusty backroom — optional, technical, irrelevant, even beneath them. Worse, many changemakers feel it’s a compromise, a sellout. Guess what? That’s exactly how privilege likes it.

We’ve done this before. You just forgot.

Regulatory reform may feel impossible. Not because it can’t be done — but because it’s been a while.

Regulation is like good lighting: we only notice it when it’s missing.

Everything we take for granted started as “impossible”:

* Sidewalks (1800s, London and Paris): mandated so pedestrians could survive commuting.

* Indoor plumbing and water standards (late 1800s–early 1900s, cities worldwide): regulated to stop cholera from taking out whole cities.

* Fire safety codes (post-Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire, 1911; global adoption after disasters): because apparently people like oxygen and not dying in flames.

* Fluoride in water/water quality standards: everyone benefits, regardless of income.

* Food labeling (EU, US, Brazil, South Africa): ensures that basic information is accessible to all.

* Seat belts/car safety standards (Europe, US, Japan): remove individual choice for the sake of public benefit.

* COVID-19 building ventilation standards (Singapore, Denmark, South Korea).

* Minimum wage/labor protection laws (Kenya, Mexico, India).

* AI ethics & regulation (EU AI Act, Singapore AI governance).

Once fringe ideas, these regulations quietly improve lives for billions.

And they are the legacy of movements just like yours.

Even international human rights are recent: the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child was ratified after I was born. Yes, just a few decades ago, there was nothing protecting children from life’s worst harms. And now there is. Because changemakers made sure to see their ideas all the way through.

Raise the ceiling AND lift the floor

Voluntary programs — rating systems — raise the ceiling. They show what innovation and motivated self-interest can achieve. However, it is regulation that lifts the floor, enshrining the optional into law and guaranteeing a claim to justice.

Dr. Joseph G. Allen of the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health reminds us, “Healthy buildings aren’t a luxury. They are a right.”[i]

Optionality always favors privilege — and often punishes the unprepared.

Regulation ensures that the vulnerable aren’t crushed while the privileged get to “opt in” to perks.

If fire safety were still optional, our buildings would be casinos for gambling with our lives and the lives of those we love.

Optionality is a luxury. Regulation is justice in action, making an idea into an unassailable right.

The cop-out blocking our success

Power is, truly, scary. A movement’s fringe status blocks us from impact — but it also protects us from failure. Complaining is easy. Claiming power is hard—but that’s where transformation happens.

Common excuses available to fringe movements:

* “People just don’t care.”

* “They’d never take responsibility.”

* “The system is broken.”

Convenient. Understandable. And heartbreaking. Because as long as changemakers remain content on the sidelines, avoidable harms persist — and the world misses out on the truly irresistible future where people thrive in harmony with the planet.

Step up, and yes, you might fail. But you might also get exactly what you ask for. Isn’t that worth the risk?

At the table — but failing to show up

Name a movement, and I can guarantee there are years when it complains about not being “at the table.”

The COVID-19 pandemic offered the global “green building” movement a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Workplace safety was all the talk. Indoor environments were finally recognized as levers of public health, individual wellbeing, and economic productivity.

Seat at the table: granted.

Spotlight: on.

A movement claiming its moment? Not so much.

The mics were ready to catch what the world needed to hear. And this movement chocked.

With the exception of Dr. Allen — who shows up on all major networks educating us about the role of buildings in our health — and initiatives like the WELL Health-Safety Rating (which I had the honor of helping develop via an international Advisory Board) — the “healthy building” movement barely leaned into a system that was, for a moment, pliable before turning rigid again. Caught up in internal arguments, this movement blended into the mainstream. Stayed deferential and polite. Contented itself with tinkering around the edges instead of reshaping norms. The once-in-a-generation opportunity offered by the pandemic went largely untapped because this movement wasn’t ready for it.

Mind you, not for lack of commitment or intent. Which is why I am committed to elevating our collective ability to build movements and see them through to fruition.

The table is set. The choice is ours.

Is it possible that for fear of failure, we missed the opportunity to change the world?

That for lack of internal coordination, we ceded the floor to other agendas?

The table is set. The choice is ours. Will we rise — or stay on the sidelines and keep watching the world settle for less?

Lessons for any movement

While the “green building movement” offers an illustration, optionality — whatever the sector — only allows inequality to persist. Systems change — transformation — hinges on regulation.

* Climate justice: voluntary carbon offsets raise the ceiling; emissions regulation lifts the floor.

* Labor: anti-modern slavery pledges inspire; minimum wage and supply chain regulations enshrines fairness.

* AI / digital platforms: ethics guidelines inspire; enforceable rules protect lives.

Optional rules = optional justice. Step up, or step aside

Whatever your cause and corresponding movement, the choice remains stark:

* Complaining feels righteous, safe, moral.

* Claiming power is hard, risky, terrifying — but that’s where transformation lives.

Movements cannot have it both ways: they either profoundly impact lives or remain hapless.

The seat at the table is yours. Claim it and be prepared to argue your points. And remember to sit up straight because having the floor means that you’ve made it!

Forging Ahead

Rules are never neutral. They encode a vision of what — and who — matters. If we want a transformed future, we cannot leave that vision to others.

Real change isn’t about Twitter threads, badges, or hero campaigns. It’s about recasting the status quo so that the millions — billions — of people who never hear about your cause still benefit from your solution. And that means claiming the tools of regulation as ours. Not optional. Not a sell-out. Not specialist territory. Our responsibility as changemakers.

Think of regulatory reform as the wrapping on a gift: tying the bow, sticking the landing, putting the cherry on top. Claim it. Own it. Shape the future, or free up the airwaves.

Regulatory reform is the quiet engine of transformation. Rarely does it make headlines or inspire Instagram posts. Still, it saves lives, protects the vulnerable, and locks in justice. Inspiration without regulation is hype that fizzles out. Step up. Tie the bow. Put the cherry on top. Claim the power that others leave lying around. The table is set. The choice is ours. Will we rise — or keep watching the world settle for less?

Questions for you:

* What’s a law in your country that people once called crazy — but now you’d fight anyone who tried to take it away?Sidewalks, seatbelts, clean water… your local version?

* Be honest: what’s the real reason your movement hasn’t pushed harder for regulation? (a) Too boring, (b) Too slow, (c) Too political, (d) Don’t know how, (e) All of the above 🙃

* If you could snap your fingers and turn one of your movement’s dreams into law tomorrow, what would it be?Yes, you only get one. Sorry, no infinite-wishes loophole.

Changemakers’ Handbook is an audience-supported publication. To access all posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber and following on Spotify or Apple Podcasts.

I first published an earlier version of this argument in TheFifthEstate in April, 2020.

[i] Allen, 2020, Healthy Buildings: How Indoor Spaces Drive Performance and Productivity.

If the global green building movement were a human body, it would be showing troubling signs of chronic illness. Despite decades of collective effort and achievement, it remains more peripheral than its scale and promise warrant. What would be your diagnosis? Here’s mine — identifying what is and isn’t working across the three vital dynamics of transformation: catalytic, nurturing, and recalibrating.

Over the past two decades, I’ve worked on transformation projects across six continents and devoted my PhD research to understanding why change efforts succeed, fail, or stall. My vantage point is not that of a casual observer or passive consumer, but of an insider who has been hired again and again to diagnose movements.

In a recent post, I outlined a framework for building world-changing movements. It may sound esoteric at first, so my aim here is to make it practical by applying it to a transformational movement that has touched us all — whether we realize it or not. Namely, I diagnose the global green building movement, asking why something so vital, so universal, has remained marginal — inviting you to consider what can be done to unlock its potential. This post builds on this introduction, which you may want to review first.

The 3 jobs every movement must master

Think about any smooth experience — a successful trip, a seamless project, even just a good day. What makes it work is that all the key functions are covered. Miss just one, and the whole thing can wobble.

Movements are no different. My research suggests that every effective movement depends on three interlocking dynamics: catalyzing, nurturing, and recalibrating. They don’t happen in sequence but in synergy, reinforcing one another.

Why does this matter? Because when we design or diagnose transformation, these three dynamics give us both a checklist and a troubleshooting guide. If a movement is thriving, all three are firing. If it’s stalling, you can bet at least one has broken down.

I aim to challenge

Agreement with me is always optional — but in this case, I doubt I can offer a diagnosis without offending people I hold in very high regard. Even a full book wouldn’t capture it all. Perhaps that’s because the green building movement, like the civil rights movement, is not one thing but a fleet of movements moving (sometimes colliding) in parallel.

Yet, this conversation is more important than our comfort, including my own. My aim is to professionalize changemaking and help position the global green building movement to fulfill its tremendous potential.

* I do hope to provoke our collective thinking—but with care.

* I share only three examples for each concept. Add yours. Between us, we span at least 30 countries, and the co-creation will make this richer.

* You also have a front-row seat to my unfolding PhD research into changemaking. Until the dissertation is complete, my terms and groupings will continue to evolve.

So — how has the global green building movement fared when it comes to creating the transformation it seeks? Let’s dive in.

Image created with assistance from ChatGPT.

1. Catalytic

An effective movement is like a spark that catches dry tinder — it doesn’t just glow, it ignites. It awakens urgency, clarity, and conviction. It presents a vision of the future that feels both bold and within reach — something we must be part of. But this catalytic force goes further. It translates the movement’s deeper intent into terms people can grasp and act on. It bridges the radical and the practical, the emotional and the strategic, the outsider and the institution. In doing so, it creates a force strong enough to attract not just believers, but unlikely allies.

Where sparks caught

* The global green building movement has been highly effective at energizing professionals. In the early years of the Green Building Council of Australia, we even described ourselves as “undercover.” Suddenly, those on the margins of academia and practice weren’t just invited to the “cool kids’ table”—we felt like superheroes.

* Through rating schemes and associated accolades, this movement bridged vision and reality. The Living Building Challenge defined success as a built environment that gives back more than it takes while enhancing delight and social cohesion. Meanwhile, other awards encouraged incremental improvement. By making the ideal both credible and actionable, the movement activated self-interest: boards of leading Green Building Councils represent market diversity, and major corporations compete on “greenness.”

* This movement has also translated itself across cultural, political, and sectoral boundaries. Having started among engineers and architects focused on non-residential buildings, it has at times successfully onboarded manufacturing, facilities/asset management, and home builders.

Where sparks failed to catch

* Too often, instead of catalyzing broad engagement, the movement has judged, shamed, or excluded — repelling the very people it sought to inspire. By policing purity and drawing us/them lines, it has failed to connect with how people actually want to live, leaving both newcomers and veterans isolated. Despite the fact that buildings shape everyone’s life, the movement leaned on moralism instead of self-interest, speaking mostly to a narrow, educated elite. What could have been a universal cause fractured into insular debates, drifting at the mercy of stigma and public opinion rather than sparking wide-scale change.

* Modern slavery and ultra-processed foods are much “younger” concepts, yet they feature in Nobel or Pulitzer prizes, industry awards, political strategy, and cultural recognition. By contrast, not a single celebrity serves as a spokesperson for green building, nor has a politician stepped forward as its champion. Even President Obama’s keynote at Greenbuild 2019 (Atlanta, GA) failed to demonstrate strategic understanding or nuance. This is astonishing: if green building is a no-brainer, why hasn’t it secured more high-profile advocacy? Even far more complex issues (crypto, for example) command greater political support.

* While the movement has built a shared language of carbon, light pollution, and IEQ (aka, indoor environment quality), to most people it remains a specialist’s code rather than a common cause. Its milestones have blurred — once-bold “platinum” standards faded into baseline best practice, while awards multiplied without resonance. The movement has done little to shape public imagination, leaving minimal cultural imprint. It has rarely aligned itself with defining moments — fires, pandemics, air quality crises — that might have cemented its relevance, nor has it translated global deadlines into stories people can follow. Unlike civil rights or conservation, its wins are neither widely known nor woven into cultural vernacular: where are the children’s books, songs, or heroes? Who are the Erin Brockovich, Nelson Mandela, Greta Thunberg, or Rosa Parks of the green building movement?

Changemakers’ Substack is an audience-supported publication. To access all posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

2. Nurturing

If catalyzing is the spark, nurturing is the hearth. An effective movement isn’t just fire—it’s the warmth that keeps us gathered, the glow that makes struggle bearable. It doesn’t just move us forward—it holds us together. It creates a sense of belonging so deep that, even in hardship, we feel we’re among the best company of our lives. At its strongest, this bond becomes an intimate emotional relationship — not just with people, but with the movement itself. We feel seen, supported, and sustained. Often, this is made real through genuine, life-altering relationships with like-minded others. These are not casual connections; they are the social fabric that helps us stay in the work even when it gets hard.

What took hold

* A Thirst for Meaning is one of the ten megatrends I have identified as reshaping the world (see earlier posts). The global green building movement has offered a sense of purpose to countless people, infusing meaning into otherwise cheaper-by-the-dozen tasks and professions. Overall, this movement has leveraged metrics effectively to let individuals feel like a part of something bigger than themselves.

* This movement has also inarguably built community! Like many, I owe it life-long relationships. Enduring friendships that were formed before “green building” became a smart career move and that were fueled by trusting each other’s intentions in a way the world rarely allows. Connections that transcend work titles and make us giddy about industry events because we will bask in the nourishing embrace of our tribe.

* Within its fringe community, this movement has offered clear competitive advantage for individuals, publications/media, products, and businesses. Countless ideas have taken flight due to the direct support of this community, cultivating excellence that ultimately benefits everybody.

What failed to resonate

* While an enjoyable prerequisite for a movement, community is not the same as a movement. Fueled by passion, movements can suffocate in the very amity meant to protect belonging. The global green building movement, like many of its peers, has too often mistaken community for movement — unwittingly sacrificing what brought people together in the first place. Over time, this has reduced even the most fervent causes to Monday-night bingo. Whenever it achieves community, each movement must decide to go to the next level. Too often, this one has not.

* Perhaps because it hasn’t been clear about which systems change it targets, this movement has demanded martyrdom for far too long. Being underpaid has served as a rite of passage. Somewhere along the way, overwhelm became a proxy for commitment. Burnout has at times been boasted of, as though it were the ultimate proof of competence. Needless to say, this is a problem. Any movement that fails to adjust expectations after the initial self-sacrifice will burn through its people and fizzle out.

* Harmony is vital, and yet the global green building movement has run gravely low on cohesion. In-fighting may signal potential, but once witnessed by the world it becomes a liability. Too often, this lack of consensus has given decision-makers a ready excuse to dismiss the movement in the halls of power. With rare exceptions like ASBEC (Australian Sustainable Built Environment Council, the peak body representing the entire movement), this movement has demanded wholesale acceptance by the world without first finding common ground within itself.

3. Recalibrating

A movement is not just a feeling — it’s a force. To last, it must forge change both outward and inward. Outwardly, it changes laws, norms, and markets. Inwardly, it refines vision against reality, tempers conviction with humility, adapts to conditions, and evolves rather than calcifies. We often resist this work because it is slow, technical, political— and humbling. It is also rarely glamorous. Yet this is how we measure movements when all is said and done. We are mobilized by energy and connection — but we remember whether it stuck the landing. It is in the forge that moments become movements, and movements become turning points.

Where systems forged

* The global green building movement has played a critical forging role in discrediting the “old normal.” Across the system, even its critics can now name what green building stands against.

* Despite the magnitude of its task, this movement has also forged new norms. Incandescent bulbs are outlawed in many countries, appliances disclose energy and water performance, green premiums have often disappeared, and sustainability is now a professional baseline. Whether or not individuals notice, society expects and receives more from the built environment over time.

* Resilient movements defend themselves and adapt. Against stiff headwinds, this one persists. Its decentralized structure has proven an asset — much as Visa’s distributed leadership or the U.S. military’s shift from “command and control” to “flexive command,” as Bob Johansen notes. Its survival also owes much to having enlisted enough of the right allies, some in positions of power, and to the moral conviction at its core. Even its underbelly of moral superiority has, paradoxically, helped sustain momentum: it appeals to many who crave the clarity of a righteous cause, and it has kept enough believers in the fight to ensure the movement never fully disappears.

Where systems change has faltered

* A persistent gap between intended and actual performance continues to splinter this movement. Most certified buildings fail to operate to their potential. The problem is not unlike owning the best car yet neglecting basic maintenance — or accepting that neither nature nor nurture can singlehandedly guarantee a great person — yet this movement remains stuck debating the superiority of one over the other.

* This movement has fallen short of the systems change it requires. While the ceiling has been raised, the floor remains stubbornly low. Too much rests on voluntary uptake, procurement nudges, or scattered incentives. The global green building movement also lacks a creed, hierarchy, or pathways for novices (unlike Girl Scouts, the Association of Realtors, or the Catholic Church) or a forging institution like the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU). Worse, it has misapplied shame, turning it on people instead of practices. And yet shame, wielded well, is a powerful forge: it made ivory, furs, and blood diamonds unthinkable. A future post will explore how the “healthy buildings” agenda may yet seize this tool.

* This movement also shows signs of an auto-immune disorder—defending itself in ways that turn destructive. Overrepresented by geeks and outsiders, it has often guarded belonging with exclusion, creating echo chambers and canceling dissent. Its moral superiority, which at best fuels resilience, at worst hardens into rigidity. Instead of celebrating imperfect pioneers, it polices flaws; where other movements uphold figures like Mandela or Parks despite contradictions, the green building movement struggles even to credit Frank Lloyd Wright without disclaimers. When purity outweighs progress, a movement risks stalling into cultishness rather than evolving.

Building movements is hard. And it’s harder still because, until now, we have lacked the language, frameworks, and tools to launch, scale, and evaluate them with the same rigor we apply to markets, technologies, or buildings themselves. The global green building movement has already accomplished much against the odds, and its struggles are not signs of failure so much as reminders of how complex this work truly is.

By learning to see movements for what they are — living organisms that must catalyze, nurture, and forge — we can give them a better chance not just to survive, but to transform the world they set out to change. The green building movement is dear to me, so I hope that through the reflection this posts starts, we might just help it fulfill its promise to reshape the world we all live in.

Questions for you:

* Help flesh this out! What’s your vantage point — expert, consultant, policy-maker, builder, or simply someone who lives in buildings every day? From where you stand, what does the green building movement have going for it — and where is it falling short?

* When you think about movements that have stuck the landing (civil rights, #MeToo, conservation), what lessons might green building borrow?

* If you could catalyze one shift, nurture one bond, or recalibrate one system within green building — what would it be?

Changemakers’ Substack is an audio-supported publication. To access all posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

After 2+ decades of creating transformation across 6 continents, my most common brief is diagnosing why change falls short of expectations or outright fails. I invite you to join me for a mini-series that conducts a “wellness check” on the global green movement!

My last post addressed how one can build a movement that changes the world, aka the “holy grail” of all the change/transformation buzz and a two-sided coin: knowing how to build an effective movement from scratch allows us to troubleshoot an existing one. Applying all this theory to an actual movement will also, I hope, help ground what can otherwise be rather complex and esoteric content.

Why now?

On September 20, I have the honor of helping Jason McLennan — the Founder of The Living Building Challenge and a remarkable transformation leader — deliver the Death & Life of Green Building Movement Summit on Bainbridge Island, WA.

While the afternoon will focus on “where to from here,” we’ve designed the morning a bit like the “morbidity and mortality” conferences that medical doctors and researchers use to accelerate experiential learning. Given that designing, launching, and scaling transformational change is why most of you subscribe to this Substack, I thought we could deepen this reflection around the world if I extended my insight beyond the 50-odd people joining the summit itself.

Image credit: Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

What is the green building movement?

Human history is increasingly that of altering the natural environment. While indigenous people tended to acknowledge and honor their symbiosis with the land, industrialization threw all that to the wind because we could extract, build, pollute, import, and move on as needed.

The “green building” movement has been reimagining our built environment — the buildings, homes, roads, bridges, and all the dug, paved, and planted things that connect them — in an effort to bring this run-away dynamic into harmony with our planet. In its scope, the green building movement directly affects the real estate, construction, utilities (energy, water, and waste), and professional services industries (especially the design professions). However, it is hard to imagine a sector it does not touch, be that education, healthcare, transport, agriculture, or even fast-moving consumer goods.

4 variables define a transformational movement

Transformational movements are not the same. So, how do we begin matching strategies that might work? I’d like to share with you the four criteria I have developed over two decades of this work; criteria that allows me to broadly qualify what kind of movement I’m dealing with.

* Timeframe – Y/N

Some movements are time-bound. Whatever movement you activate is fueled by and useful within its built-in expiry date. If you only have until such a date to sell enough product for a cause, there’s a deadline. Same with elections.

No.

While there have been milestones, the green building movement is not time-bound.

* Outcome – Y/N

Some movements are outcome-bound. Rights to vote. Curing cancer. Halting climate change. Movements like these might tie themselves to milestones, but results are the only thing that ultimately matters. A lay person often knows whether they’ve succeeded or not.

Yes.

However, the green building movement hasn’t effectively articulated its goals.

* Targeted impact – out of 10

While some movements target a contained issue, others aim to reimagine global systems of power, information, and material flows.

10 / 10

Given how prolific buildings and infrastructure are, the green building movement targets profound change at every level of nearly every system in the world. No small feat!

* Number of disparate people required – out of 10

Some movements can be accomplished by a single person or a small, committed band. Other movements demand the expertise, influence, and behavioral change from people unlikely to even meet outside of such a movement.

10 / 10

The global green building movement is as complex as it gets: to make a meaningful difference, regulators, consumers, and everybody adjacent and in between needs to act in alignment.

The next post has come out! It identifies what is and isn’t working in favor of the global green building movement across the three vital dynamics of transformation: catalytic, nurturing, and recalibrating.

Changemakers’ Substack is an audience-supported publication. To access all posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Having just celebrated a year on Substack with this hyperlinked reflection, I have thought long and hard how to start another year. What cornerstone can guide more eye-opening exploration among this growing global community of changemakers? I’ve decided to honor the changemakers who’ve joined this Substack by answering the question: what does it take to build a movement that changes the world? 

Want big, bold change? Build a movement.

If you want to make a meaningful difference in the world, you probably have an idea you hope can recast what is possible. What is acceptable. Until it represents the new normal. 

You envision what we would call a movement.

You know more than you think you do

Have you ever felt like you belong in a community you didn’t know? Acted in its interests even when that demanded letting go of your own preferences for the broader benefit? If so, you’ve been part of a movement.

Have you ever gotten people behind a cause? Led a successful fundraiser? Facilitated a meet-up that got a life of its own? Then, you’ve started a movement!

If you subscribe to this Substack, you have probably been part of countless movements.

I dare say, movements have defined you as much as you have defined them.

However, almost no movements scale beyond their original community. When they try, they often collapse, even harming the group that began them. Why does this happen?

I’d argue that most movements “fail” because we don’t understand them for what they are OR see them through.

Image credit: Michelle Darné

Changemakers’ Substack is a reader-supported publication. To access all posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

What is a movement?

A movement is when many people act independently towards a shared goal. 

A movement produces meaningful transformation without coercion.

For the purpose of this Substack and my work more broadly, we’re after transformational movements that change the world for the better. 

Does all transformation demand a movement?

No.

A movement is not the only way to change the world. I care deeply about showing other paths forward, and I’m good at it. As a changemaker, you can rewire systems without building movements (see an earlier post.) However, if you love working with people — and/or if the change you seek is big, bold, and sweeping — it demands a movement. So, we might as well learn how to do it well. 

Building a successful movement is the holy grail of all change talk. We have had many successful movements, yet rarely does anybody who has “changed the world” claim that they designed — planned — intended — to do just so. Interviews with countless changemakers suggest that they were driven by intent, acting however seemed right at the time.

The truth is, most changemakers have been conditioned to think they can’t deliberately create large-scale change.

That is a set of assumptions — a wiring — that is more dangerous than anything I know. Historically, our impact as changemakers has been haphazard.  Too often, changemakers create impact by accident, not by design. Our efforts can feel like self-destruction — throwing ourselves against the status quo without enough preparation. Is it any wonder that 70% of transformational efforts fail? See my earlier post on this statistic.

Given how much transformation we have collectively created in spite of this, what would become possible if we could become intentional — deliberate — about it?

Let me pause here because yes, this is a big deal.

Transformation has often been treated as a mystery, even by experienced changemakers.  As something we cannot plan, let alone steer. I’ve long disagreed. And my defiance has paid off!

Why listen to me?

A few of you might wonder if I’m really offering anything new. I am.

Since I first got hooked on change (see my origin story), I’ve helped launch and  accelerate a dozen movements around the world: green building, healthy buildings, blockchain, health equity, transactional energy, anti-domestic violence, living building materials, etc. 

My PhD research involved looking for patterns across three “buckets” of insight:

* 20+ years of my own experience creating transformation on 6 continents

* interviews with seasoned changemakers like Maria Atkinson, Pooran Desai, Jason McLennan, Bill Reed, and Lakisha Woods.

* Scholarly and practice literature.

My PhD research confirms that we can, indeed, orchestrate transformation. There are no guarantees, but we don’t expect those from any complex systems, whether in chemistry, parenting, or politics.

We can — finally — be intentional about transformation

In the coming weeks, I’ll draw on my PhD research tested against real-life experience.

This is one of many posts on this complex topic. If it were simple, we wouldn’t still be asking questions. One day, I plan to turn this series of posts into its own book. For now, you get the front-row seat as I work it out.

A successful movement follows distinct phases: vetting a solution, planning, implementation, and embedding & celebrating. Future posts will spell out what questions and actions each phase might mean for your particular movement. Before we get there, please reflect on the three variables and the three parallel forces that shape movements.

A movement is subject to 4 variables:

* Timeframe. Some movements are time-bound. If you only have until such a date to sell enough product for a cause, there’s a deadline. Same with elections. Whatever movement you activate is fueled by and useful within its built-in expiry date. 

* Outcome. Some movements are outcome-bound. Rights to vote. Curing cancer. Halting climate change. Movements such as these might tie themselves to milestones, but results are the only thing that matters. A lay person often knows whether they’ve succeeded or not. 

* Targeted impact. While some movements target a contained issue, others aim to reimagine global systems of power, information, and material flows.

* Number of disparate people required. Some movements can be accomplished by a single person or a small, committed band. Other, more complex movements demand the expertise and influence of people unlikely to even meet outside of such a movement.

My research suggests that every effective movement depends on 3 interlocking dynamics:

* Catalytic. An effective movement is like a spark that catches dry tinder — it doesn’t just glow, it ignites. It awakens urgency, clarity, and conviction. It presents a vision of the future that feels both bold and within reach — something we must be part of. But this catalytic force goes further. It translates the movement’s deeper intent into terms people can grasp and act on. It bridges the radical and the practical, the emotional and the strategic, the outsider and the institution. In doing so, it creates a force strong enough to attract not just believers, but unlikely allies.

* Nurturing. If catalyzing is the spark, nurturing is the hearth. An effective movement isn’t just fire—it’s the warmth that keeps us gathered, the glow that makes struggle bearable. It doesn’t just move us forward—it holds us together. It creates a sense of belonging so deep that, even in hardship, we feel we’re among the best company of our lives. At its strongest, this bond becomes an intimate emotional relationship—not just with people, but with the movement itself. We feel seen, supported, and sustained. Often, this is made real through genuine, life-altering relationships with like-minded others. These are not casual connections; they are the social fabric that helps us stay in the work even when it gets hard.

* Recalibrating. A movement is not just a feeling — it’s a force. To last, it must forge change both outward and inward. Outwardly, it changes laws, norms, and markets. Inwardly, it refines vision against reality, tempers conviction with humility, adapts to conditions, and evolves rather than calcifies. We often resist this work because it is slow, technical, political—and humbling. It is also rarely glamorous. Yet this is how we measure movements when all is said and done. We are mobilized by energy and connection—but we remember whether it stuck the landing. It is in the forge that moments become movements, and movements become turning points.

I want to hear from you!  In a comment, share the movement you’re working on, and why it matters. In upcoming posts, I may illustrate the best of science and experience on your movement!

This week, I celebrate a year on Substack! And what a year it’s been!

Whether you’ve known me across my transformational efforts on 6 continents and found yourself on Substack a year ago when I moved my newsletter here OR you we’ve met in the last 12 months, THANK YOU for your attention, support, and everything you do to create a better world.

You are the reason I do what I do.

I’ve had a pretty confronting time of it recent, as I shared last week in my most personal post yet. One of my conclusions is: if given the option, I isolate and stay silent. I talk — aka write — if I feel invited to do so. If I think it can make a difference. Otherwise, I am quite content going weeks — months — without talking to another human. Yes, I am an introvert… Thus, the 60+ posts I have published signify that we’ve had a dialogue, and that is something — maybe everything — in a world where connection too often feels elusive. Thank you for having me in your headphones and/or for casting your overcommitted eyeballs over my writing… I SO appreciate it!

Here are some highlights from the last 12 months:

* Having edited lots (incl. as the editor-in-chief of two magazines), I finally got the honor of editing a book! Lonely Girl is a courageous and heartfelt memoir by Anna Vatuone, coming to Amazon TOMORROW! Whether your interest is peaked by this work in particular or you’re curious about what it takes to write and publish a book, this discussion between Anna and I is for you!

* Changemakers’ Handbook is read in 30 countries… Given that my mission is

to support changemakers around the world in their vital work, this means more than I can say.

* We’re a podcast! Please take a moment to follow and rate Follow the podcast on Apple, Spotify, or both!. Note that I recorded a couple-dozen episodes (with voiceover) before activating the podcast, so please check out Substack. It remains the hub for ALL my work.

* With your help, Changemakers’ Handbook is Substack’s #32 “Rising in Science!”

Rather than share new content, I’d like to draw you attention to what you may have missed over the past 12 months:

* We had our first LIVE session, and with the amazing Blair Palese! Drawing on nearly 4 decades as a professional changemakers, she shares so many gems that help us understand how to leverage the history of successful advocacy to shape the future.

* I have shared my vision for the future where changemaking is recognized and rewarded as a discipline. I’ve also introduced the findings of my PhD research into changemaking, world-first (by definition, as they don’t let you do a PhD if it is not original knowledge). I will continue to detail these in the months to come.

* I’ve thoroughly covered several topics you can explore as “playlists.” Sadly, it doesn’t appear I can set these to play automatically, but at least they are grouped for you!

** The 10 megatrends reshaping the world, and why it matters to changemakers. Specifically, check out the 10 opportunities ripe for your efforts!

** Identifying your purpose is fuel for your changemaking.

** Starting with the end in mind: planning for your exit may be the best thing you can do for your transformational initiative.

* I continue to develop a few more topics:

** On darkness/depression, which is as familiar to me as rain. Sadly, this is the case for many changemakers.

** Gems for humans changing the world: the best in science and debate for people working to change the world. Put your ideas for additions into comments!

** Building blocks and formulas for transformation, the most nascent playlist of them all as there’s lots to uncover still!

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Changemakers’ Substack is a reader-supported publication. To access all posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

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* While this is not a political publication and I greatly appreciate the range of political views shared by this community, my lived experience with an authoritarian regime seems to offer insights many of us see. I have posted after the 2024 US election, after Zelenskyy’s visit to the White House, and during the US Military parade in June.

* Drawing on my experience with blockchain technologies, I’ve published this opinion piece.

* To see how everything connects into a roadmap to optimizing your impact — from identifying your transformational ideas through vetting, funding, implementing, and scaling them to putting yourself in the best position to thrive — get your copy of Change-maker’s Handbook (2023). Even as I expand and refine what we know, it will provide a handy structure, with wide margins for your notes!

To help me celebrate, would you help?

In our digital world, every “like,” rating, share, and comment ranks my work in “the system” and helps other changemakers find us. So, if I may ask and if you feel comfortable, would you please consider:

* Share with this publication with other changemakers in your life to grow this global community committed to perfecting our craft of changing the world!

* If you have 30-60-90 sec to spare, please click here and “like” every post that resonates. Depending on how many fit into your browser, it may be 3-4 pages. You don’t actually have to open posts or have an account to “like” (e.g., if you’ve already listened or read elsewhere), and every “like” helps!

* Get a Substack account (e.g., with this email address) and comment. EVERY comment (e.g., even “thanks” and “nice” help! It’s a crazy world!). An account also allows you to meaningfully engage with this community, join LIVE sessions like the one with Blair Palese, and explore all the voices that Substack has to offer!

* If you can afford it, your paid subscription helps me keep most posts free for all around the world.

Cheers!

Image credit: Secoura from Pixabay

I live both with a hyperactive mind and an extremely well-honed self-discipline. While I have accepted that these are assets to the world, they are very much a double-edged sword to me. Based on what I have heard from countless changemakers around the world, you may relate to my experience. So, I am ready to come clean.

For decades, I’ve moved at an uncanny pace, packing every morsel of time with something that advanced my goals.

* I said I would sleep when I die.

* I was always rushing, a mere hair away from being late to whatever the next thing was.

* The year Titanic came out, it was the only movie I watched (walking out of Wedding Crashers because it was not a good use of my time).

* Returning from an interstate conference, I used to force myself to use the cab ride home — at ten, eleven at night, utterly exhausted — to send connecting emails and enter the details from the stack of business cards I would have collected. Might as well, I thought, since I was way too tired to make any other productive use of time. Once home, I commanded myself to rest fast… yes, that’s a ridiculous notion.

Do you have a Frankenstein monster?

You might have heard me talk about my Frankenstein monster. On all those good days, I create. A conference presentation opens a few doors. Something I write invites irresistible ideas from others. So, I make room. I schedule. I set things in motion, orchestrating everything across the 17 time zones I work across. Then, on the not-so-good day, I am harassed by a Frankenstein monster that demands to be served — to be fed — when I just want it to stop.

I use this analogy because I am not a victim here. And neither are you, if this resonates. We create the hurricane that ultimately suffocates us.

For decades, spaciousness would have felt like a waste. Like a careless — irresponsible — disregard for all the opportunities granted to me.

While tempted only too often, I can’t outright hate my younger self: her curiosity and tenacity got me where I am. However, several months ago, my body put its proverbial foot down. I was no longer in control of my physiological responses. An exposed nerve, I hurt all the time. And I was oh, so very tired…

Being true to ourselves

Depending on how well we know each other, you may know that I rage against most cliches. In fact, the closest I come to believing in conspiracy theories is that the wellness/self-help industry wants us to be stuck in insecurity and helplessness — to feel bad about ourselves so that we contribute to the $48 billion it collected in 2024[1], set to double within a decade.

For most of us, it is utterly unattainable to be true to ourselves all the time.

For decades, I didn’t ask myself how I felt because what was I going to do about the answer? My day — my foreseeable future — were spoken for, with people relying on me. If you have children at home, you feel lucky enough to breath, take a drink of water, and shower because your whole life is spoken for, for years.

On top of that, achievement demands perseverance. Consistency. Reliability. If I don’t feel like it, will I really not take my kids to school? Will I really not open my shop? Will I truly be willing to stand my clients up?

For most of us, tapping into what we need feels forbidden because we’re afraid of what we find. We’re afraid to ask because the answer might undo everything we’ve built.

For all the designers out there, being forced to face this question felt like going from detailed design back to concept. Reversing where I wasn’t supposed to. It has been profoundly unsettling, and I’ve been going through this in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado.

The humbling fact: I have been here before. A slow learner, I suppose.

During my Junior (second-to-last) year of university, I got mono. I didn’t even acknowledge I was ill, pushing through until I earned myself chronic fatigue. Shocker… I barely scraped across the finish line of that second semester, collecting more “incompletes” than grades before taking a year off. I didn’t have a choice because I wasn’t functioning. Still, even while I had but an hour of concentration a day, I was freaking out: what if I don’t get better quickly enough to return and complete my degree? I never graduated from high school, skipping most of it to start college at 16. What if I couldn’t finish university? What if after all that — after managing to take the SATs that got me university admission and scholarships at fourteen — my resume was merely that of a high school dropout?

Fast-forward, and I did manage to return to Cornell. To complete my undergraduate and them postgraduate degree, and to learn to live with chronic fatigue breathing down my neck.

Still, last year, I broke, once again. I have had to largely withdraw. To strip my life way-way down.

My new routine

After months of disorientation and self-ridicule, I have settled into a new rhythm. Every morning for the past four weeks, my eyes pop open between 5 a.m. and 5:30 a.m., and I am excited for walk. After months of being excited about nothing, I go with it. I roll out of bed and into a pair of leggings while I boil water to seep chopped ginger, adding a squeeze of lemon before I let the warm drink start up my system. Within 20 minutes of waking up, I rub some ointment into my ankles, slip into my sneakers, and head out for 2-2.5 hours.

Upon my return, I eat breakfast, take any morning calls and attend to anything urgent, potter around, and… go back to bed.

You heard me right.

I checked with my mom, and, indeed, I was a toddler the last time I napped. Sure, there’ve been a few exceptions — such as jet lag from major overseas trips, like between Australia and the US, and after all-nighters — but most of the time, even then I can’t fall asleep. After a while, I get up frustrated: not only did I not sleep, but I also have nothing to show for the time!

Imagine my surprise that after forty years, by mid-morning, I’ve consistently headed back to bed.

More often than not, I don’t think I will. Two hours into a strenuous walk, I am as energized as can be, all kinds of ambition cursing through my veins. And yet without fail, I shut down sometime between nine and eleven in the morning. Other times, I start daydreaming (can dawn-dreaming be a thing?) about my nap just a few minutes into my walk, embarrassed, ashamed, but still thrilled to keep going.

I first shared this with my writing group last week, prepared for some form of judgement that never came.

So, here goes… the maybe-shameful-maybe-not secret is out: I nap. Daily!

Doesn’t life have a vicious sense of humor..!

Which takes me to my next point.

Is this my new normal?

If you’re wired anything like me, you’ll understand why — even as I strive every day to accept what is — I need to know what it means! Is this my new normal? Should I never again schedule anything for mid-morning because I’ll be asleep? What does this mean for work travel? And what does it look like in the winter, when the sun will take a couple of extra hours to rise?

Having undone — erased — the details until a concept design is revealed afresh, I yearn to fill them back in. I NEED to know!!If I were to distill my identity to just a handful of words, “planner” would be among them. I make a living from planning: I plan solutions that leverage emerging opportunities; I plan for risk; I plan my research; I plan career trajectories for changemakers; I plan movements, for goodness’ sake! So how ironic that here, I have to contend myself with uncertainty.

This new rhythm may end tomorrow. Or stretch for years… I simply don’t know. I have to accept that just as it made space in my life despite the formidable resistance I have put up, it may vacate it.

What might you take away from this post?

Image credit: Elena Bondareva

I took this picture this Monday, when I headed out in the dark. As I filled my lungs and settled into the rhythm of my feet on gravel, a vivid thought fluttered inside: making space. I was making space. Within an hour or so, I got a call from Anna Vatuone, a dear friend who’s two hours ahead of me and knows I’m an early riser. As we caught up, she shared with me her longing for spaciousness. I immediately sent her this picture, both surprised and not at the serendipity: throughout my life, I am grateful when the Universe brings people into my life who are traveling a parallel path energetically. I wonder if Anna and I synchronized further while I had the honor to edit her book, a courageous and heartfelt memoir Lonely Girl, which releases on Amazon on August 22! So stay tuned.

I found myself commending Anna for considering how she might create a bit more space in her life while she still had the choice. I had run myself into the ground to the point where that choice — and many more — were taken from me. And while I am still here and tentatively hopeful, I bet this journey would have been a heck of a lot easier if it had been my choice.

Rearranging my life because my body no longer obeyed — wondering if everything I’ve achieved was for not — being a person I didn’t recognize, let alone like — has been devastating. Humbling. Heck, my ego is definitely sulking, it’s back permanently back to me as it sniffles somewhere in the corner.

So, what might you take away from this post? Besides having a chuckle at my expense — which you’re absolutely welcome to do! Goodness knows, I am.

I understand that mid-morning naps may not be on the cards for you. Our kids are well and truly out of the house. Neither do I have to show up at an office every day. Please believe me that I’m not advocating for anything specific, merely inviting you to question what you might have forbidden yourself that doesn’t have to be so. Where might you loosen self-imposed constraints? Declutter your week? Make space for what’s important to possibly rearrange itself to better suit who you are today?

This post may merely validate your current experience. Or chafe against what feels right to you — agreement with me is forever optional! However, if there’s a chance that you feel cramped, constrained, stuck — like you can’t even lift or stretch your arms because you’re so compressed into a shape that no longer suits — I invite you to join me in trying to allow a little spaciousness.

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How do we make space?

The priceless question is, of course: how do I make space in a life fine-tuned to a “t”?

Here are four ideas, but again, I am surprised they’ve come out of my lived experience. Yours may produce something altogether different, and I can’t wait to hear about it! All I can share is, look at what you see as the “forbiddens.” Remember those games where you’re supposed to connect dots you can only connect by drawing outside the perimeter, which we don’t do because we assume we’re not supposed to? This might feel a bit like that.

* Make space for reading

I was an insatiable reader as a kid. Then, except for coursework and then, whatever my job required, I barely read through my 20s, professing that only people whose own lives were boring needed to read about others… Blessed cockiness of youth I wish knew how to hold its tongue, but she shared this ludicrous opinion freely!

I rediscovered reading in my early thirties, with a veraciousness of somebody starved without knowing it. I religiously read the New York Times book review and put books on hold at my local library.

It was a dozen years ago that my wife gifted me three Audible credits, a new thing at the time. I couldn’t get into it… she ended up using them herself. Now, I know it takes retraining one’s brain and have helped others do so. Let me know in commens if you need tips!

In 2024, I read/listened to 99 books thanks to audio books.

Logistically, audio books — and podcasts — make space because they negate the need to choose between reading and chores and exercise and commuting… you get my drift. With audio books, you can do a puzzle AND enjoy a book at the same time! It really doesn’t get better than that.

When I don’t use audio books to boost my productivity (yes, still a prime consideration… I am not a finished product), I listen to soothe my soul. Setting a timer, I fall asleep to a book every day. My eyes closed, having somebody read to me – a book of my choosing, whenever I want, for as long as I want, and at a pace that feels right that moment, may be my very favorite technological innovation.

Reading makes space because it rests my brain while activating my imagination. With audiobooks, I read genres I had never explored and, I dare hope, makes me a better writer. And I tap into a part of me otherwise dormant — neglected — denied — since childhood, when my parents read to me, and when that denoted safety, care, and hope for the day to come.

* Make space for daytime baths

When was the last time you took a bath… before lunch?

A friend — Angela Spranger — came for a glass of wine later that same Monday and left quite excited about trying this.

The first time I enjoyed a bath at 10am was after one of my walks. The morning had been brisk, and a chill stubbornly stuck to my skin. Rather than turning on the shower, I found myself starting a bath. It felt logical to soak my aching joints a little. And I need to wash, regardless, didn’t I? But it felt wrong. Like I was breaking a rule. Like I’d be in trouble if caught.

Who said that baths are exclusively for bedtime?

* Make space for walks

I haven’t been able to master “meditation proper.” Walking, hiking, dancing or hot yoga, however, have reliably stilled my mind since before I recognized them for what they were: moving meditation. I covered Luxemburg on foot several times over when I was there in September, as I do in every new place. A familiar place makes that sunrise walk only sweeter!

What wields the gentle power to quieten your mind?

* Make space for naps

And, yes, naps…

Goodness, have I fought this, despite often siting Tricia Hersey’s Rest is Resistance: A Manifesto (2022) by and the like in my writing. Adults don’t do that!! Adults of working age work mid-morning! They produce. They at least do chores. But they contribute! They make themselves USEFUL!

For months, even opening my eyes felt like too much effort, and yet I wouldn’t consider a nap. I doubt I achieved anything during the hours I could have been resting. Moreover, I stress-ate, drank too much, and generally wound the machinery of my shame tighter and tighter.

I first gave in about six weeks ago, when I headed back to bed about 11 a.m. I justified it because I literally wasn’t getting anything done. It took another couple of weeks for me to surrender to my new reality while I told myself I must be fighting off a bug. I even contacted my doctor. Because I felt like an utter failure. My naps felt despicable. I felt kike an undisciplined, lazy, ineffectual disgrace.

Today, I walked for nearly three hours, covering 9.4 miles (15.13km or 19,500 steps) and climbing an equivalent of 58 floors. Caught up on the news. Finished a book and started another. Spoke with my mom and reconned with an old friend. Trimmed my Elephant Ear plants. Vacuumed, mopped, and cleaned my kitchen. Attended to my clients (including finalizing and submitting a final manuscript for publishing!) and to my nascent herb garden. Then, I took a hot bath followed by, yes, a nap. Then, I slow cooked a healthy, soul-nourishing meal from scratch and set a record in a phone puzzle while eating it. And I conceived of, wrote from scratch, and recorded this post. It is only 2:30 p.m.

I also wonder if my naps may be partly responsible for the fact that I haven’t been sore. After a lifetime as an athlete, I have pretty high-maintenance joints! The moment I overdo it, my ankles, knees, hips, or all three will throw it right back in my face. Inflammation will set in, taking me out for a week or two. However, despite the daily intensity of my routine, I’ve not hurt… Perhaps those of you who understand physiology better than I do can let me know, in a comment on Substack, if I might be onto something. If sleeping within a couple of hours of exercise may be helping my body recover.

Absurd — unbecoming — inconceivable to the me of just weeks ago — a tad embarrassing — this new rhythm that elbowed its way into my routine may also be… working.

I am stronger. My clients are happy. My Board and other commitments continue to be fulfilled. And I’ve tasted peace, a sensation that had managed to become foreign. I have also found a little hope. While I’ve been stripped of the arrogance to claim that the worst is behind me — that I got it all figured out — that I’m doing great — I do catch myself admitting that maybe — just maybe — I will be alright.

And that is something. More than something. Right now, it is everything.

If it sounds like I am trying to convince myself, it is because I am. Still. On a daily basis. And maybe, that’s okay as long as I let myself be convinced.

Having finished this recording, I might very well consider another nap! What will you do to allow yourself a little kindness? A little grace? A little rule-breaking? What might you consider to make a little space so that whatever you need at this stage in your life can unfurl?

[1] https://www.grandviewresearch.com/horizon/outlook/personal-development-market-size/global?utm_source=chatgpt.com, accessed August 15, 2025.

Wow, we covered a lot! Blair Palese is a delight to talk to… and with nearly 4 decades of changemaking around the world, a treasure trove of both reflection and practical ideas!

Thank you Anna Vatuone, Michelle Malanca Frey, Brynly, Lynn symon, Ricky Sutton,Juan Rovalo, Tathra Street, and all others for tuning into our FIRST (hopefully, of many) live video, and for your patience with a bit of clunkiness (at first, I was afraid I couldn’t see who was on or comments! Had me a tad distracted).

Would you please respond, in comments:

* What did you think, overall?

* What do you think of Blair’s suggestion that we get changemakers of different generations to explore what works?

* Would you nominate a person or a topic you’d like to see on a future LIVE?