From Domination to Stewardship

Back in 2011, when I first began writing Dominion Over All—the eco-fantasy novel that launched the Zak Bates Eco-Adventure series—I opened with two quotes that have stayed with me ever since:

“God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.” — Genesis 1:26

That then begged this question:

“But what does ‘dominion’ really mean? It is traditionally interpreted as ‘to subdue’ or ‘to rule over.’ When taken to an extreme, it can include oppression and exploitation. However, an exploited planet Earth does not leave humanity richer. Perhaps there is a deeper, more sustainable aspect of dominion that includes a sense of service to one’s fellow creatures and even a compulsion to protect those who cannot protect themselves.” — The Christian Science Monitor

Now, whether or not you come from a Christian background, the idea of “dominion” as permission to dominate the Earth has been baked into many modern cultures and systems. But what if that interpretation was never the original intention?

The Hebrew word translated as “dominion” in Genesis 1:26 is רָדָה (radah). While often rendered as “rule over,” its usage in scripture is layered. In some passages, radah refers to harsh rule, but in others—like Psalm 72—it reflects compassionate leadership and protective care.

Even more revealing, Genesis 2:15 uses two different Hebrew words—abad and shamar—to describe the human role in Eden: “to work [serve] it and to keep [protect] it.”

So from the very beginning, it seems our role wasn’t to control or exploit the Earth, but to care for it with reverence. To be stewards—not masters.

And that brings us to the Fourth Great Truth.

GT#4: Humanity as Stewards, Not Masters

The Fourth Great Truth tells us that our purpose on Earth is not to dominate nature but to care for it. We are not its overlords—we are its guardians. True leadership, true greatness, is about serving life, not exploiting it.

This directly challenges one of the Four Great Untruths: the myth that “Technology Will Save Us.” Technology is a tool—but it is how we use it, and to what end, that defines its value.

All around the world, we are witnessing a quiet revolution:

* The global rewilding movement is bringing life back to landscapes—reintroducing native species, restoring watersheds, and creating wildlife corridors that reconnect fragmented habitats. These efforts support both biodiversity and climate resilience. Learn more about rewilding here.

* Regenerative farmers are learning to grow food in ways that heal the land—enriching soil, protecting pollinators, increasing biodiversity, and even sequestering carbon. Their practices are a hopeful alternative to the extractive model of industrial agriculture. Explore regenerative farming practices.

* Communities are rising to protect rivers, plant forests, and bring back traditional knowledge in service of renewal. From citizen-led river cleanups to forest guardianship programs led by Indigenous groups, people are rediscovering their place in nature’s web. See stories of grassroots restoration.

And in the realm of imagination, in Dominion Over All, young Zak Bates and his wise, flying dog companion Sampson, alongside the last living magic cat Ra-Kit, learn that being a leader isn’t about controlling others. It’s about protecting what matters—especially those who cannot protect themselves. Their adventures take them deep into the heart of ecosystems in peril, where their courage and humility allow them to serve as bridges between human and animal worlds. They don’t save the world by force. They help it heal through partnership, listening, and love.

And that’s what this truth calls us to now. Not to save the world. But to help it thrive.

What if being a hero wasn’t about saving the world—but about helping it thrive?

That’s a question I hope every reader will carry with them.

Living the Great Truths

Stewardship is not a lofty ideal. It is a daily practice—a way of walking through the world with awareness, humility, and care.

And it starts close to home.

Here are a few small steps we can take:

* Start a compost pile or community garden.

* Support local regenerative farmers who grow food in ways that restore the Earth.

* Choose purchases that give back more than they take—businesses that support reforestation, fair trade, or ocean cleanup.

* Spend time with young people outdoors. Teach them how to care, how to listen to the land, how to feel part of the great web of life.

The Ripple Effect: Even the smallest actions have power. One school that plants pollinator gardens. One family that turns their lawn into habitat. One teenager who organizes a clothing swap instead of buying fast fashion.

It matters. You matter.

The Green Family Weaves It Together

One sunny Saturday in early spring, the Green family gathered in their backyard, gloves on and shovels in hand. Their lawn had once been just grass—but this year, Sarah and Daniel decided it was time for something more. Together with their neighbors, they were building a shared garden. Each raised bed, carefully filled with compost and seedlings, represented a piece of their new story: sufficiency, reciprocity, care.

While her parents worked the soil, Emma knelt beside a patch of wildflowers. She was tracking bees for a school project, marveling at how their tiny wings helped nourish entire ecosystems. “They’re like Earth’s little messengers,” she told her mom. “And we’re their helpers, right?”

Lucas, now sixteen, had just returned from the local thrift store where he’d set up a clothing swap with friends. “It’s kind of wild,” he said. “Turns out you don’t need to buy new stuff to feel good about how you look.”

Later that evening, Nancy and Robert sat on the porch swing, watching their grandchildren play in the dusk. “I think this is what stewardship really means,” Robert said softly. “Not big speeches. Just… how we live, day to day.”

Nancy nodded. “And what we choose to pass on.”

Reflection and Inspiration

Which of these Great Truths resonates most with you? How might you start living it today?

Choose one and begin. Keep a journal. Start a conversation. Or join an Earth Listening Circle in your community.

Because the truth is, you don’t have to save the world. You just have to care for your corner of it.

And that, dear Eco-Guardian, is enough to change everything.

Brad

P. S.

If you are a lover of animals or have a 10-16 year old boy or girl who loves animals and to read, I heartily recommend my own book, Dominion Over All which was inspired by Severn Cullis-Suzuki. In 1992, then just twelve years old, Severn gave a speech at the UN with the same sense of urgency as Greta's speech in 2019.

P.S.S. A Powerful Step You Can Take Today

One of the simplest, most powerful ways to reduce your carbon footprint—and give Mother Earth a fighting chance to recover—is to embrace a more plant-rich diet.

Food production accounts for up to a third of planet-heating emissions. But the good news? Every bite we take is an opportunity to choose differently.

You don’t have to go vegan overnight. Just consider these steps:

* Cut back on beef: Replacing even half of your beef intake with plant proteins can slash your dietary emissions by 20%.

* Try plant-based dairy: Swapping to soy or almond milk can reduce emissions by 8%.

* Shift toward a vegetarian or vegan diet: These options reduce your food-related emissions by 48–69%.

It’s not about perfection. It’s about intention. Every small shift matters.

And when you do it with love—for your health, your family, and your home planet—it becomes more than a diet.

It becomes an act of stewardship.

Learn more about climate-friendly eating here.

There’s a shift unfolding—and it needs your voice, your vision, your care. One Cause is more than a newsletter. It’s a movement. Join us as we remember how to be stewards of the Earth.

Today is Earth Day.

A day that for decades has been about honoring the Earth. About planting trees, cleaning up rivers, hosting school fairs, and pretending for just a moment that we’re all aligned around something so obvious it shouldn’t even need saying: this is our only home. Let’s protect it.

But today, on Earth Day 2025, I find myself not just planting seeds of hope—but fighting to keep the very soil from being sold out beneath our feet.

Because this year, Earth Day arrives just days after a devastating Executive Order was signed by President Trump—an act so sweeping in scope and so cold in its consequences that it may mark a point of no return for life as we know it.

Let’s be clear about what this order does: It declares that unless environmental protections from the past century are explicitly re-approved—one by one—they will simply expire. Gone. Not voted out. Not repealed. Just vanished by default.

Let that sink in: The Endangered Species Act? Sunset. The Marine Mammal Protection Act? Gone. The Migratory Bird Treaty Act? Nullified. The Bald and Golden Eagle Protection Act? History. The very laws that brought the bald eagle, gray wolf, California condor, and hundreds of others back from the brink will disappear into a legal void unless reauthorized by the very agencies now pressured to do the opposite.

This is not deregulation. This is ecological euthanasia.

And while the language of the order speaks of "innovation," "prosperity," and "modernizing energy policy," the result is painfully clear:

Unleash American Energy = Unleash American Extraction.

The Earth is not a warehouse to be looted. It is a living, breathing web of life—and that web is being torn apart at the exact moment we need it most.

I’ll be honest. It’s hard to write and read this today. I’m angry. I’m exhausted. And I’m grieving.

I’m grieving not just for the creatures whose fates hang in the balance, but for my two young grandchildren, Logan and Piper. They are 4 and 2 years old—still small enough to see magic in a butterfly, a bird’s nest, or a whale’s tail. And unless something changes, they may grow up in a world where those wonders are memories of a broken age their grandfather tried—and failed—to protect.

This isn’t policy. This is suicide with a legal signature.

We are living through a metacrisis—a convergence of ecological collapse, economic instability, cultural fragmentation, and spiritual disconnection. But this Executive Order? It accelerates every part of it. It doesn’t just ignore the climate crisis. It pours gasoline on it and strikes a match.

And here’s what’s almost as chilling as the order itself:

Where is the outrage? Why is this not front-page news? Why isn’t every network broadcasting emergency coverage? Why are we not seeing hundreds of thousands of people filling the streets in protest on Earth Day of all days?

Have we already given up? Or have we been hit with so many of these Four Great Untruths-style gut-punches that we no longer recognize when we’re being dealt a fatal blow?

Is this silence fatigue? Or resignation? Or just the dull ache of a collective nervous system that's been overloaded one too many times?

Whatever the cause, the silence is deafening—and dangerous.

So what do we do on Earth Day, when it feels like the Earth itself has been put on death row?

We don’t give up. We sound the alarm. We speak the truth. We refuse to normalize insanity.

Because the moment we go quiet is the moment the looters win.

And even now—especially now—there is power in our refusal.

Let this Earth Day be a turning point. Let it be the day we declare: We will not let our children grow up in a world where puffins and porpoises, wolves and whales, and the very laws that protect them are all extinct.

Call your representatives. Take to the streets. Join or start an Earth Listening Circle. Say what must be said, even if your voice shakes.

Because if there’s still breath in our lungs and love in our hearts, then it’s not too late.

Not yet.

And that, my friends, is the fragile spark of hope I carry today.

Let’s fan it into flame.

—Brad

P.S. If you want to read the Executive Order for yourself, it’s publicly available on the White House website here: https://www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/2025/04/zero-based-regulatory-budgeting-to-unleash-american-energy/

P.S.S. On a happier note, today’s pictures are the Loving Homestead first official act as my son-in-law and I plant three semi-dwarf apple trees. One more step forward in creating a regenerative future for generations now and those yet to be born.

Prologue

Over the past few weeks, I’ve found myself writing with more raw urgency, a deeper honesty, and a renewed commitment to speaking the truth about the world we find ourselves in. What I hadn’t fully realized—until now—is that these recent pieces weren’t just one-offs. They were the beginning of a new arc.

Today, I’m officially naming that arc: Facing the Metacrisis.

The term metacrisis points to more than just a ‘really big problem.’ It refers to the convergence and interlinking of multiple existential threats—ecological, political, cultural, economic, technological, and spiritual. While some call it the polycrisis, civilizational collapse, or even the long emergency, the idea is the same: what we face is not a single issue but a breakdown of the systems that once held modern life together. And beneath that breakdown is a breakdown in our thinking, our worldview, and our relationship with the Earth.

This series will run alongside my main One Cause series and may or may not find its way into the final One Cause book. But the call to write these reflections has become too loud to ignore.

We are living through a convergence of crises—climate, politics, economy, culture, meaning, and spirit—all feeding and amplifying each other. That convergence is what many now call the metacrisis.

We need to face it. Not just with information, but with imagination. Not just with outrage, but with purpose.

So far, the series includes:

* Before Collapse: Choosing to Be Part of the Great Turning (April 2, 2025)

* Can I Be Fierce? Wrestling with Politics and Purpose (April 9, 2025)

* Can We Face the Truth Without Losing Hope? (April 19, 2025)

And now, the fourth installment...

Losing at the Wrong Game

Facing the Metacrisis — Entry #4

Like many of you, I’ve been watching with heartbreak and frustration as cracks in the foundation of American democracy widen. Friends are posting in fear, outrage, and grief—not just about one candidate or election, but about the very soul of our country.

I get it. I feel it too.

And yet… there’s another layer of truth I feel called to name.

Yes, we are watching democracy collapse—or at least convulse—but what if the system we’re fighting to preserve isn’t capable of carrying us forward? What if even a return to "normal" isn’t a path to regeneration, but a return to extractive economics, ecological blindness, systemic injustice, and spiritual disconnection?

We’re fighting to win a system that may no longer be the right game.

What if the very rules we’re defending were designed for a different world—one that no longer exists?

This may sound theoretical, but it’s not. On April 9, 2025, the current U.S. administration issued an Executive Order that effectively dismantles decades of environmental protections through what’s being called Zero-Based Regulatory Budgeting. This move doesn’t just signal a shift in policy—it’s a signal flare from the metacrisis itself. A deepening collapse of our societal immune system. I’ll be sharing more about this Executive Order and what it means in an upcoming article. But for now, let’s keep going.

What if “business as usual” will end up in the loss of all that we hold most dear?

The Deeper Game

Democracy as we’ve known it—especially in the U.S.—was forged in an age of colonization, patriarchy, and infinite growth economics. It was never built for a post-carbon, ecologically interdependent, spiritually pluralistic civilization.

To be clear: I’m not arguing for giving up on justice, agency, or participation. Quite the opposite. But we must recognize that saving the system may not be enough—because the system itself was part of the problem.

As Manda Scott noted in her recent Accidental Gods podcast episode, even a return to “traditional democracy” doesn’t get us to the root. We need new political imaginations that:

* Prioritize bioregional stewardship and local resilience

* Use deliberative, consensus-driven assemblies (like citizens’ councils or Wisdom Circles)

* Recognize nature as a stakeholder, not a resource

* Value inner development, not just GDP or voter turnout

These aren’t utopian dreams. They’re already being prototyped—in Indigenous governance models, in climate adaptation networks, and in experiments like Doughnut Economics, Deep Democracy, and the Wellbeing Economy Alliance.

So rather than simply fighting for what was, what if we:

* Mourn the loss of what we thought democracy could be

* Acknowledge its limits

* And start building what comes next

Hope Isn’t in the System. It’s in Us.

Hope doesn’t live in headlines. And it doesn’t live in the systems that brought us here. It lives in us—in our courage to grieve what’s dying, and our willingness to imagine what could be born.

The metacrisis is real. But so is the possibility that we can meet it with depth, dignity, and courage.

Not by pretending it’s all okay. And not by clinging to a dying order.

But by becoming the kind of humans this moment asks for:

* Grounded in purpose

* Rooted in place

* Connected across generations

* Willing to build—and rebuild—with love

This isn’t about giving up on democracy. It’s about growing up through it, and beyond it. We may be losing at the old game. But we still have time to start playing the right one.

Are you with me?

Let’s Talk: What resonates for you in this reflection? What new “rules” or visions do you believe our next political paradigm should include? Share your thoughts in the comments.

Share this post with someone who’s struggling to make sense of today’s political chaos. Maybe it’s time we stopped trying to win a broken game—and started co-creating a new one.

Thanks for reading Unleashed - W. Bradford Swift! There’s a shift unfolding—and it needs your voice and your friends so please share this post.

Subscribe to stay in the loop on future Facing the Metacrisis entries and other reflections from the One Cause journey.

We’re not here to doomscroll—we’re here to dream, build, and belong. Unlimited is a reader-supported space for reimagining what’s possible. Subscribe to walk this path with us.

For More Information: Voices Naming the Metacrisis

These thought leaders and organizations are speaking directly to the interconnected crises of our time:

* Joanna Macy — on the Great Turning and the Work That Reconnects: workthatreconnects.org

* Daniel Schmachtenberger — on systems collapse and the metacrisis: civilizationemerging.com

* Rupert Read — author and speaker on climate realism and transformative adaptation: rupertread.net

* Charles Eisenstein — on sacred economics, climate, and cultural healing: charleseisenstein.org

* Manda Scott / Accidental Gods — future-visioning and regenerative politics: accidentalgods.life

* Robb Smith & Ken Wilber / Integral Life — exploring integral frameworks for complex times: integrallife.com

* Brian Johnson / Heroic — offering tools for living with virtue, meaning, and heroic purpose: heroic.us

May these voices offer you clarity, courage, and a compass as we navigate the turning of the age.

With fierce love and quiet hope, —Brad (aka Grand-Dude)

P.S.Here’s why I do what I do—why I speak up, why I write, why I refuse to stay silent. These two tiny humans remind me that this is not just about collapse. It’s about legacy. It’s about love. It’s about whether we have the courage to face the metacrisis not with panic, but with purpose.

Preface: An Invitation to Courage

Before we begin, a word of care. What follows may be difficult to read or hear. It speaks to truths that are often ignored because they’re uncomfortable, confronting, or heartbreaking. But it’s precisely because these truths are real and pressing that they deserve our full attention.

This is not a doomsday message. It’s a call to consciousness. A challenge to step beyond denial or despair, and instead stand with open eyes and an open heart in the middle of what’s unfolding.

Because when we see things clearly—as they are, not as we wish them to be—we awaken the power to choose a different path. And that choice, made together, is how a regenerative, life-honoring future becomes possible.

The Time for Soft Words Has Passed

The fires in our mountains, the storms wrecking our coastlines, the shrinking windows of food security and freshwater—these aren’t just warnings. They are symptoms of a sick planet pleading for our attention and loving care. Of a civilization built on Great Untruths: that we are separate from nature, that more is always better, that we can take without giving back, and that infinite growth is possible on a finite planet.

Dr. Rupert Read, a climate philosopher and former Extinction Rebellion leader, recently said:

"It’s not five minutes to midnight. It’s five minutes past. We are already in the age of consequences."

The global temperature threshold of 1.5 degrees Celsius has already been breached. But what does that mean, really? Dr. Read explains it like this: "Twenty years ago, the excess heat trapped in our atmosphere was the equivalent of three Hiroshima bombs per second. Now, it’s twelve."

Let that sink in. Twelve Hiroshima bombs worth of heat every second.

This is not business as usual. This is not a future crisis. It is now. It is us.

A Civilization on the Edge — The Five Faces of the Metacrisis

While the climate crisis may be the most visible, it's only one part of a larger unraveling. Many thinkers—from Ken Wilber and Robb Smith to Andrew Harvey and Sherri Mitchell—speak of a metacrisis: an interwoven, systemic breakdown that spans multiple domains of our civilization.

Here’s one way to understand its five primary dimensions:

* Ecological CollapseClimate change, biodiversity loss, ocean acidification, soil depletion, and pollution are not isolated problems—they’re signs that the Earth’s life-support systems are in critical condition.

* Economic FragilityOur global economy runs on debt, inequality, and extractive growth. As Ray Dalio warns, we’re witnessing a breakdown in monetary systems and a widening class divide.

* Political DisintegrationPolarization, authoritarianism, and institutional mistrust are eroding democracies worldwide. The social fabric is fraying, and compromise is viewed as weakness.

* Spiritual & Cultural CrisisDisconnection from meaning, purpose, and one another is producing despair, addiction, and anxiety. We’ve lost a shared story that can unite us beyond consumption and competition.

* Technological DisruptionAI, surveillance, and digital overload are reshaping society faster than our wisdom can keep up. Acceleration without integration is breeding chaos and collapse.

And in nearly every one of these domains, we see the fingerprints of a deeper problem: not just unsustainable systems, but insufficient consciousness.

Beyond Awareness: A Call for Integral Consciousness

Ken Wilber’s Integral Model reminds us that real change must address all four quadrants of human experience: the internal and the external, the individual and the collective. In other words, we can’t simply throw technology at the crisis. We must evolve our thinking, our systems, our cultures, and ourselves.

Consciousness matters. And the next civilization—if we are to have one—will need leaders who can hold complexity, embrace paradox, and act with clarity, compassion, and courage.

As Wilber has long said: All worldviews contain some truth, but none contain all the truth. The move toward integrative, pluralistic thinking is not a luxury. It is a necessity.

The Turning Point: A Great Choice Before Us

We will transform. The only question is: how?

The metaphor of the caterpillar becoming a butterfly has never felt more timely. When the caterpillar has consumed all it can and begins to dissolve inside its cocoon, it looks like death. But within that dark breakdown, imaginal cells begin to awaken. At first they are attacked by the old immune system. But slowly they recognize each other, connect, and begin to form a new being—a butterfly.

This isn’t just poetic. It’s biological. And it's metaphorically exact for our moment.

Each of us can choose to be one of those imaginal cells. Agents of transformation—often unrecognized, often resisted—who carry the DNA of the future.

We need a conscious, loving, grounded spiritual uprising. Not against the old world, but for the new one. A civilization that honors life, embraces reciprocity, and understands that our true strength is in community, compassion, and interconnection.

What If This Is the Transformation We Were Born For?

This is where Andrew Harvey’s fierce clarity comes in. In a recent Aspen Initiative webinar, he recounted a story his friend Edwina Sandys once shared about her grandfather, Winston Churchill:

"At the end of his life, she asked him: 'What is true leadership in impossible conditions?' Churchill replied:

* Face the extremity of the danger yourself—without illusion, false hope, or magical thinking.

* Tell others the truth—with the same courage.

* Call them to their deepest courage and joy.

* And offer them a goal so noble it is worth risking everything for.

Against a great 'No,' only the greatest possible 'Yes' can summon the strength we need."

Harvey calls our time an evolutionary dark night. But he insists, "The way through is to die into life. To become Love's sacred warrior."

So What Do We Do Now?

We begin where we are. With what we love. With who we love.

That’s why I’m launching Earth Listening Circles in my own community—spaces to hear the Earth, grieve, hope, and act together.

That’s why my wife Ann and I are creating a Loving Homestead—an experiment in shared living, local food, and mutual care. Not because we have it all figured out. But because we know we can no longer live as if we are separate from each other or the Earth.

What Do These Actions Look Like?

They look like:

* Tending a garden or starting a food forest.

* Learning to compost and harvest water.

* Hosting a circle of neighbors to talk about what matters most.

* Cleaning invasive ivy off the trees in your backyard.

* Donating to regenerative farmers or climate justice organizations.

* Supporting leaders and politicians willing to speak uncomfortable truths.

* Reading to your grandchildren about ecosystems, cooperation, and courage.

* Speaking and acting like one of the imaginal cells ushering in the next stage of our evolution.

The Beautiful Coincidence

Dr. Read says it best:

"There is a beautiful coincidence: The things we must do to prevent collapse, the things we must do to prepare for collapse, and the things we must do to build lives of joy, community, and meaning... are the same things."

We must become local again. We must regenerate what we love. And we must speak the truth—even when it’s hard.

A Question from the Chrysalis

This morning, as I was preparing to polish and publish this article, a question rose up during meditation:

Are we already in the chrysalis?

The answer I received was clear and humbling:

Yes. We are.

From a spiritual and ecological perspective, we’re living inside the chrysalis right now.

The old caterpillar—our extractive, consumerist, domination-based way of life—is dissolving. Its structures are breaking down. Its myths no longer hold. We feel the mess of it. The fear. The disorientation.

But this is also the sacred space where transformation begins.

Inside this chrysalis, something else is stirring. Imaginal cells—visionaries, truth-tellers, regenerative communities, and quiet healers—are beginning to wake up. To find each other. To connect and cohere into a new possibility.

A possibility that hasn’t taken flight yet—but it’s forming.

And here’s the thing: we don’t have to know how it all turns out.

We only need to remember why we’re here.

So I leave you with a small, powerful invitation:

Grounding Practice: Your Imaginal Cell Moment

Sit quietly. Place your hands over your heart.

Take three slow breaths.

Then ask yourself:

“Where in my life am I already living as an imaginal cell?”That is—where am I giving shape to the new, even in the midst of the old?

Is it in how you speak with your children?In how you grow your food, cast your vote, create your art, or tend your neighborhood?In how you say no to what’s dying, and yes to what is life-giving?

Let the answer rise gently.

And if nothing comes clearly yet, that’s okay.

Just hold the question with love.

Because the chrysalis may be messy and dark…

…but the wings are forming.

Resources & Next Steps:

* 🎥 Watch Dr. Rupert Read: Truth to Action → YouTube

* 💬 Hear Andrew Harvey on Leadership and the Global Dark Night → Aspen Webinar

* 🌍 Join Our Next Earth Listening Circle → Learn More

One Cause is for those who know we’re meant to live in deeper harmony with the Earth—and each other. If this vision resonates, subscribe to receive weekly reflections and bold possibilities for our shared future.

What If the Secret to Abundance Is What We Give Away?

In Part One, we explored Interconnectedness—how we are not separate from nature, but woven into its web. In Part Two, we looked at Sufficiency, and saw how our world is not defined by lack, but by our ability—or inability—to recognize what we already have.

Now we come to the Third Great Truth: Reciprocity. If we are part of a living system… if that system already holds enough… then the question becomes: What is our role within it? The answer, we believe, is found in this simple but transformative principle: Life thrives on mutual exchange.

The Truth of Reciprocity

Reciprocity is not a new idea. It’s the oldest one of all. It’s how life has always worked. The sun shines, and plants grow. The plants feed the animals. The animals fertilize the soil. Everything gives. Everything receives. And the cycle continues.

But somewhere along the way, we forgot. We built a civilization around taking—not giving. Extracting, not replenishing. Using up, not restoring. And this Great Untruth—that the Earth’s resources are infinite and ours to take—has brought us to the brink.

Want a quick reminder of how this truth lives in you? Try inhaling... and then just keep inhaling. Really, pause for a moment and give it a try. Tough, isn’t it? Because the very design of your body insists on reciprocity. You must exhale to inhale again. You receive life—and then you give life back. So does the planet. So does every living system.

Reciprocity is the medicine. It is how we restore balance. It is how we make things right again…not overnight but over time.

Why This Truth Matters

We are not in crisis simply because we take from the Earth. We are in crisis because we’ve stopped giving back. And like any system where the outflow exceeds the inflow, we’re running on empty—ecologically, socially, even spiritually.

But reciprocity—when practiced—reawakens the cycle of life. And life, when honored, responds. We witnessed this globally during the early days of the COVID pandemic. When our human systems slowed down, the Earth responded almost immediately. Skies cleared. Wildlife returned. Carbon levels dipped. Waters ran cleaner. As heartbreaking as that time was, it offered a glimpse of how responsive, how alive, this planet truly is—and how quickly it can heal when given the chance.

Where We See This Truth in Action

Let’s zoom in on some beautiful, tangible expressions of reciprocity in our world today.

Agroforestry & Regenerative Farming

In once-depleted lands across Africa, South America, and even here in the U.S., farmers are ditching chemical-heavy monoculture and returning to ancient, reciprocal methods. They plant trees alongside crops. They rotate animals and compost. They restore the soil instead of stripping it bare.

In these systems, everything feeds everything else. Yields rise. Soil holds more water. Biodiversity returns. It’s farming that gives back—and the land, in turn, gives more generously than ever before.

The Rewilding Movement

In Yellowstone, when wolves were reintroduced after decades of absence, something miraculous happened. The elk populations, no longer unchecked, moved differently. Trees began to regrow. Birds and beavers returned. Riverbanks stabilized. The land remembered itself.

This is the power of letting nature lead. Of recognizing that our role isn’t domination—it’s participation. We can give back not just by planting, but sometimes by stepping aside and allowing life to flourish again.

Biochar & Soil Regeneration – Michael Smith’s GPH

Michael Smith’s Growth Power House (GPH) project brings ancient wisdom into modern form. Biochar—made by burning organic matter in a low-oxygen environment—sequesters carbon, holds moisture, and regenerates tired soil. As Garth Wells points out in his 2023 article, Regenitech and the Sustainable Powerhouse, “Michael Smith has effectively created a supercharged closed-loop greenhouse, burning waste with gasification and using waste gas to grow algae and run a generator with a biochar byproduct that is a superfood for soil.”

This simple biochar substance, once used by Indigenous farmers in the Amazon, is now being used to restore degraded land around the world. Waste becomes resource. Carbon becomes life. That’s reciprocity in action.

A Lesson from the Wild with the Eco-Guardian Team

Tess crouched in the shadow of a fallen tree, running her fingers through the soft, rich earth. Zak and the rest of the Eco-Guardians stood nearby, watching her with curiosity.

“This forest is alive,” she said. “Not just in the way we think—plants and animals and insects—but in the way it gives back to itself.”

Zak tilted his head. “You mean the trees?”

Tess nodded. “And the fungi. And the insects. And the birds. Everything here is part of a cycle. When one tree dies, it becomes food for the next generation. When leaves fall, they feed the soil. Even what seems like waste becomes wealth.”

She stood and brushed her hands off on her pants. “Humans forgot that. We got so good at taking, we stopped asking how to give.”

Later that day, the team helped a nearby village plant native trees on the edge of their fields—not to harvest, but to restore. The villagers weren’t sure at first. It felt unfamiliar. But slowly, the soil changed. The water table rose. The crops began to flourish.

“It’s like the land is thanking us,” one elder said.

How We Can Live This Truth

Reciprocity begins with awareness—and blossoms through action. Here’s what it looks like in real life:

Compost your food scraps

Ann and I love this simple practice. We keep a glass container on the kitchen counter (pictured)

It’s my job to regularly empty it into the compost pile (also pictured).

It’s so simple… and so effective. What once was waste now nourishes our garden which nourishes ourselves, and the cycle continues. On top of it all, gardening can also nourish our mind and spirit, not to mention what great exercise it is.

Plant trees—and care for the ones already growing

A few years ago, I discovered that several of the trees on our property were being suffocated by invasive English ivy. After learning just how damaging this could be, I spent a few hours carefully removing the ivy. When Tropical Storm Helene tore through our area last September, trees fell all around us—but not a single one of ours. I believe with all my heart it’s because they were stronger, healthier, and yes, grateful.

Give back to the places that sustain you

There’s a vacant lot across from our house—owned by someone who doesn’t live here.

It was neglected, overgrown, its trees overwhelmed by ivy. I’ve quietly adopted it. Each day, I head over and free one more tree. Just one. Slow and steady. That’s all it takes. (Check out this short YouTube video on how to do this safely and without dangerous pesticides.)

Support regenerative farmers and businesses (especially local ones)

Look for those who give back more than they take. Your dollars are powerful tools of reciprocity, too.

Choose to invest in soil-healing practices, carbon-positive goods, and businesses that nourish both people and planet. Consider every purchase you make as a vote for the future we want. Imagine your shopping list as a living love letter to the Earth.

Ask yourself daily: “What am I giving back?”

Not from guilt. But from gratitude. Because reciprocity isn’t a sacrifice. It’s a loving relationship with Mother Earth. It’s how we say thank you to the world that gives us everything.

Here’s a pondering question I’d love your to respond to with a comment: Where do you see reciprocity in your own life and how could you make this important distinction more prevalent in the world? (Okay, that’s two questions.)

The Obstacle Becomes the Way

It’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the damage we see around us. The pollution. The deforestation. The greed. But what if that overwhelm isn’t a barrier—but a doorway? What if the pain we feel is the opening? What if it’s pointing us back to a more natural rhythm?

The Stoics remind us: The obstacle is the way. The problem contains the seed of the solution. And in this case, the imbalance of extraction invites us back into balance through reciprocity. The wound is real. But so is the healing.

Closing Reflection

What if everything we took… we replenished? What if giving back wasn’t the afterthought, but the foundation? What if the shift—from takers to stewards—was the very transformation we’ve been waiting for?

You don’t need permission. You don’t need a degree in ecology. You don’t even need a backyard. You just need the willingness to give back to life, in whatever ways are available to you—right here, right now.

Because when we live in reciprocity, we step into the deeper rhythm of the Earth. And life, when honored, always gives back more than we could ever imagine.

Your Invitation to Engage

If this truth speaks to something in you, please don’t keep it to yourself. Like all living systems, this work needs feedback, flow, and exchange.

Here’s how you can give back to the movement:

* Leave a comment. Share a story, a question, a reflection. Let this be a place where real conversation grows.

* Like this post. A simple tap tells the algorithm—and me—that this matters.

* Share it with one person. Someone you care about. Someone ready to give back.

Thanks for reading Unleashed - W. Bradford Swift! This post is public so feel free to share it.

Together, we are co-creating a new way of being. One breath, one compost bin, one freed tree at a time.

Let’s walk this path of reciprocity together.

One Cause is a purpose-inspired series for those raising the next generation of Earth stewards. Subscribe and discover tools, stories, and inspiration for creating a thriving, just, and regenerative future.

Hey friends, it’s Brad here.Today’s post isn’t part of the One Cause series, least not directly. In other words, it’s unlikely to end up in the book. It’s one of those pieces that came from a restless moment in my heart—and maybe you’ve had a few of those yourself lately.

I want to talk about something I think many of us may be struggling with:

How do we show up politically in this time of unraveling—without losing our center, our soul, or our sanity?

Because I’ve been wrestling. And I think it’s time I brought that wrestling out into the circle.

April 5 Protest & Emotional Reality

This past Saturday, I was one of about 1,200 folks gathered in my hometown for a protest against the continued dismantling of climate protections and democratic norms under the Trump administration. The energy was powerful. The people were passionate. The signs were clever, the chants strong.

But on the inside, I felt torn.Part of me wanted to yell louder, to join in with that surge of righteous anger that so many were riding. But another part of me… pulled back.

It wasn’t because I don’t care.It’s because I care so damn much, and I’m trying to grow into a different consciousness—a regenerative, integral, wholeness-seeking worldview. And yet, there I was… drifting back into the very thing I’ve spent decades trying to outgrow: That old “us versus them” energy—the kind that feels like it gives us strength but really just reinforces the walls we’re trying to tear down. From that arose a question.

The Core Question – Can I Be Fierce and Still Whole?

Here’s the question I came home with:

Can I stand fiercely for what’s right… without making someone else the enemy?

Can I oppose the policies that are wrecking the planet, denying people their rights, and stoking hatred—without falling into hatred myself?

Can I protest from a place of sacred alignment instead of spiritual fragmentation?

And what does that even look like?

Turning to the Integral Lens – A Wider View

This is where the Integral perspective I’ve studied and lived with for years has been such a gift—and such a challenge. For those unfamiliar, Integral Theory teaches that people and cultures evolve through different worldviews (or collective levels of consciousness):

* From power-driven (Red) to rule-bound (Amber),

* To success-focused (Orange), to care-and-equality-focused (Green),

* And then—if we’re lucky—to Teal and Turquoise, where we start seeing systems, interdependence, and even sacred wholeness.

And Trumpism, whether we like it or not, is a mash-up of earlier stages: Red power plays, Amber nationalism, and Orange greed run amok.

But here’s the twist:

Raging against it from a purely Green place doesn’t work.

Because Green can become tribal too—just with better hashtags and more compost.

Integral invites us to transcend and include.To honor our outrage, but not let it harden our hearts.To see our opponents not as monsters—but as people caught in an outdated operating system.

The Tension – My Personal Rub

Now, let me be honest: That’s damn hard sometimes.Because when I see what’s being done to our forests and animals, to our children’s future, to truth itself…it feels like evil. It looks like a system that deserves to be burned down, not integrated.

So how do I act from that place of clear-eyed truth…without becoming what I’m opposing?

How do I avoid turning righteous indignation into spiritual self-righteousness?

A New Political Path – My Recommitment

Here’s what I’ve come to, and what I’m recommitting to right now:

* I will still march when it matters. And I will march with presence and heart-centeredness, not just passion.

* I will speak truth to power. And I will do so with fierce love, not reactive anger.

* I will vote. I will write. I will organize. And I will do so from a place rooted in my virtues—creativity, perspective, honesty, and a deep spiritual trust in life’s unfolding.

* And I will invite others into circles of listening to nature, not echo chambers. Because it’s time for conversations that stretch us—not just validate us.

So, if you’ve been struggling with this too…If you feel torn between the call to resist and the pull to heal…If you’ve felt the weight of the world and wondered how to hold it all without breaking— You’re not alone.

You are part of a growing community of people trying to live the future now.Trying to midwife a culture that doesn’t yet exist—but must, if we’re to survive and thrive.

So here’s my invitation:

Let’s be regenerative activists—not just reactors.Let’s be sacred warriors, not soldiers of ideology.Let’s be the bridge—not the battleground.

There’s still time.There’s still beauty.And there’s still a role for each of us to play.

So I’ll keep writing. I’ll keep listening. I’ll keep standing—for the Earth, for each other, and for a future that calls us to something better.

And I hope you’ll walk with me.

With fierce love and humble strength,Brad

Thank you to everyone who tuned into my live video! Join me for my next live video in the app.

Unleashed - W. Bradford Swift is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Thank you to everyone who tuned into my live video! Join me for my next live video in the app.

In Part One, we explored the first of the Four Great Truths: Interconnectedness—the understanding that we are not separate from nature but woven into its very fabric. If we truly accept this truth, it leads us naturally to the second: Sufficiency.

Because if we are all part of a deeply connected, living system, then the idea that there isn’t enough to go around simply doesn’t make sense.

Let’s start with a familiar example—your own body. Think about how the human body functions as a self-regulating, cooperative living system. Your heart doesn’t hoard blood. Your lungs don’t store oxygen for themselves. Nutrients, oxygen, and information circulate through the body—each part receiving exactly what it needs to thrive. When one part is out of balance or starts taking too much, the whole system suffers. But when everything works in harmony, there is enough for all. That’s sufficiency in action.

Yet, here we are—trapped in a system that runs on scarcity thinking. We are told that more is always better, that success is about accumulation (you know, the myth that the person with the most toys wins), that competition is the only way to survive. And what has this led to? Overconsumption, inequality, and environmental collapse.

But what if Sufficiency was not just a possibility, but the natural order of things? What if the real problem isn’t a lack of resources, but how we think about and distribute them?

The Truth of Sufficiency: There Is Enough When We Remember How to Share

The Earth is abundant. It provides everything we need to survive and thrive. Every day, the sun delivers more energy to the Earth than we could possibly use. Plants grow, water cycles, ecosystems regenerate.

Consider the Amazon rainforest—often called the lungs of the planet. It produces oxygen, absorbs carbon dioxide, and supports one of the richest webs of biodiversity on Earth. Or coral reefs, teeming with life, supporting species diversity and feeding millions. Nature has always known how to provide.

The problem isn’t the planet—it’s the way we’ve structured our systems.

Modern economic models are built on the assumption of infinite growth, which forces us into a mindset of constant scarcity. Gross National Product (GNP) is our primary measure of success. But GNP doesn’t tell us how healthy our ecosystems are, or how equitable our society is. It just tells us how fast we’re growing—often at the expense of everything else.

To keep the economy “growing,” we create debt—both financial and ecological. Globally, we’ve borrowed from future generations, amassing trillions in national debt and degrading the environment with the assumption that more production and more consumption will eventually fix everything. But it hasn’t. And it won’t.

Where We See This Truth in Action

If we look beyond the dominant economic model, we can see examples of sufficiency in action all around us—real people, real communities proving that we already have enough when we stop hoarding and start sharing.

The Buy Nothing Movement

The Buy Nothing Project began in 2013 when two friends, Rebecca Rockefeller and Liesl Clark, launched a simple experiment: What if people stopped buying new things and started sharing what they already had—locally, person-to-person?

From that seed of an idea, a global movement grew. Today, Buy Nothing groups exist in thousands of neighborhoods around the world, connecting people not through commerce, but through generosity and trust.

A few years ago, Ann and I decided it was time to begin reducing the amount of stuff we had accumulated over the years. We had seen firsthand how overwhelming it was for her and her siblings to sort through her mother’s belongings after she passed—and how much ended up in the landfill.

That’s when we discovered our local Buy Nothing Facebook group. Since then, as we continue our “purposeful purging,” we’ve become known in the group as a bit of a rockstar couple—for giving away really good stuff. And let me tell you, it feels great to know these items are going to someone who can use and appreciate them, rather than sitting unused or being thrown away.

Doughnut Economics: Redesigning the Economy Around Sufficiency

Economist Kate Raworth proposes a powerful visual model for redefining success: the Doughnut. The inner ring of the doughnut represents the minimum standards for a good life—things like clean water, food, education, health care, housing, and social equity. The outer ring represents the ecological ceiling—the boundaries we must not overshoot if we want to maintain a healthy planet.

Between those two rings is the “safe and just space for humanity.” That’s the sweet spot. Not too little, not too much. Just enough.

Doughnut Economics doesn’t just reject the growth-at-all-costs model—it offers an actionable alternative grounded in balance, sufficiency, and shared well-being.

Minimalism & The Slow Living Movement

All over the world, people are waking up to the realization that more stuff doesn’t equal more happiness. The Minimalist movement isn’t about deprivation; it’s about clarity. It’s about asking: What truly adds value to my life? And what can I let go of?

Slow Living takes that same spirit and expands it beyond possessions. It asks us to slow down—not just in what we consume, but in how we live. To be present with our food. To walk instead of rush. To savor a conversation. To choose quality over quantity.

A Lesson from the Wild

Zak and the team were hiking through a dry, rocky landscape when they arrived at a mountain village that seemed to be on the brink of crisis. The air was dusty, and the people moved slowly, gathering water from a cracked, shallow cistern that barely produced a trickle.

“They say the drought’s been going on for months,” Sampson reported. “They’re rationing everything.”

Zak watched as children carried heavy jugs for long distances. The desperation in the air was as palpable as the heat.

That night, Ra-Kit stirred Zak from his sleep and beckoned him to follow. She led him beyond the edge of the village, into a quiet grove nestled against a rock wall.

“Do you see it?” she asked, pointing to a patch of moss glistening faintly under the moonlight.

Zak squinted. “Moss?”

“Dig,” she said gently.

He did. Just a few inches down, the soil turned damp—and then, suddenly, water bubbled up from beneath the surface.

His eyes widened. “There’s water here! Why didn’t they know?”

Ra-Kit’s voice was quiet. “Because they stopped listening. They forgot how to look for what they already have.”

The next morning, with Zak and Ra-Kit’s guidance, the villagers began to explore the land with fresh eyes—following signs from the earth, planting moss near other shaded groves, and uncovering more hidden springs.

Together, they designed a new water system—not one of hoarding and fear, but one built on access and sharing. The cistern was repurposed into a gathering spot, not a point of scarcity but a symbol of cooperation.

Zak stood at the edge of one of the new communal springs, watching children play and elders fill their jugs with ease. A quiet sense of reverence settled in.

“They were never without,” he said to Ra-Kit. “They just forgot how to see.”

Ra-Kit nodded. “That’s the real drought we’re facing—not of water, but of awareness.”

And in that moment, Zak understood: Sufficiency isn’t something we acquire. It’s something we remember.

How We Can Live This Truth

Understanding sufficiency isn’t just about changing policies—it’s about changing our own mindset and behaviors. Here are some ways to shift from scarcity thinking to a mindset of sufficiency:

* Shift from accumulation to gratitude. Instead of always seeking more, ask: What do I already have that is enough?

* Support local sharing economies. Buy Nothing groups, tool libraries, and community gardens are powerful ways to create abundance without overconsumption. Repair Cafes like the ones my wife has started in our area are also a great way to both create community and keep clothes, tools, and appliances in use and out of the landfill.

* Break free from the consumer mindset. Before buying something new, pause. Do you really need it? Could you borrow it? Repurpose something you already have?

The Obstacle Becomes the Way

We’ve been trained to believe that scarcity is a fact of life—that we must compete for limited resources, that more is always better, that only through constant expansion can we survive. But what if this obstacle—the belief in scarcity—is actually the key to unlocking sufficiency?

The Stoics teach that the challenges we face are not barriers, but pathways forward. The very struggle against scarcity can teach us what true wealth is. Every moment we feel the pull toward more, we have an opportunity to pause and ask: What if I already have enough? What if sufficiency is a skill, a practice, a way of seeing?

Let me share a small but meaningful example from my own life.

It was time to prepare our gardens, which meant pulling out my trusty Leaf Hog to mulch the leaves scattered around our property. But when I went to fire it up, I discovered the on/off switch had a short. The whole thing wouldn’t turn on. My first impulse? Order a new one. After all, that’s the world we live in, right? Replace, not repair. More, not enough.

But for some reason, the online order didn’t go through. A minor frustration at the time—but in hindsight, a gift. Those extra couple of days gave me just enough space to reconsider.

Instead of giving up on the tool, I opened it up. A few screws, a bit of patient tinkering, and maybe an hour or two later—I had found the problem. And fixed it.

Not only did I save a couple hundred dollars and keep another piece of plastic and metal out of the landfill, but I experienced a level of satisfaction that’s hard to describe. A kind of quiet confidence. A return to resourcefulness.

Because here’s the deeper truth: sufficiency isn’t just about external resources. It’s about internal alignment—with gratitude, with creativity, with a deeper trust that life, in its essence, is already abundant. Sometimes, we don’t need more. We just need to look again.

Closing Reflection

What if you already had everything you needed? How would that change the way you live?

The Four Great Truths challenge us to see differently, to live differently. They ask us to remember that the way forward is not about accumulation, but about circulation. Not about hoarding, but about sharing. Not about infinite growth, but about enough.

In Part Three, we’ll take a deep dive into Great Truth #3: Reciprocity—exploring how giving back is the key to creating a thriving future for all.

For now, take a moment. Reflect. And if this resonates, share your thoughts. Because this shift isn’t just about theory—it’s about living it.

What does sufficiency look like in your life? Where have you seen it in action? Let’s talk. Share your thoughts, reflections, or experiences in the comments—let’s build this conversation together.

We are not just learning about a new paradigm—we are living it, co-creating it, embodying it. This is the shift. And you are part of it. Share this Substack today and subscribe!

Mark your calendar for Monday, April 7

I will be joined here on Substack Live at 2 PM EDT as I interview Teresa Romain of Access Abundance as we do a deep dive into the Great Truth #2 - Sufficiency.

Teresa Romain has been an Abundance Coach and Advocate for more than 27 years. She’s on a mission to revolutionize the scarcity-based relationship with money that dominates our world. One that is the cause of so many of the problems we face today – individually and collectively. Join us as we explore a new game Teresa has created: “a chair for everyone.”

The time for soft words has passed.

The fires in our mountains.The storms wrecking our coastlines.The shrinking windows of food security and clean water.

These aren’t just warnings.

They’re symptoms—of a planet pleading for our attention and loving care. They are the trembling voice of a living Earth caught in a fever dream, asking us to wake up.

They are the consequences of a civilization built on the lie—the Great Untruth—that we are separate from nature. That infinite growth is possible on a finite planet. That we can take without giving back and survive.

We know better. And if we didn’t before, we do now.

As Dr. Rupert Read says in Truth to Action: The Transformation the Climate Crisis Requires, a powerful conversation hosted by The Way Forward: Regenerative Conversations, we are already in the early stages of collapse. Not decades away. Not something we can leave for the next generation. It’s happening now.

Read offers the chilling metaphor: if midnight is the point of no return, we are at five past midnight. Which means the future we thought we had time to plan for is already changing underneath us.

But here’s the deeper truth: it’s not too late for transformation. Not if we act. Not if we speak. Not if we stop pretending and start choosing. And that begins by facing the truth—not with panic, but with love and courage.

Because as Read reminds us, awareness alone isn’t enough. A climate majority that understands the crisis doesn’t guarantee we’ll do what’s necessary. Silence still dominates our public conversations. Especially in communities like mine, communities of relative comfort and privilege, where the illusion of “business as usual” still lingers in the air.

I’ve come to see that silence—our failure to speak honestly with our neighbors, our children, our leaders—isn’t neutrality. It’s complicity. And the cost of that silence is far too high.

That’s why I’m choosing to act locally. To bring this conversation home, in a way that’s grounded in community and heart.

One of the ways I’m doing that is through Earth Listening Circles—simple, powerful gatherings where we can pause the noise of everyday life and really listen. To the Earth. To each other. To what’s shifting around and within us.

These Circles are not about blame or shame. They’re about courage. About feeling what’s been buried. About grieving what we’re losing—and rediscovering the agency we still have. They’re a space to make sense of this moment and to imagine what comes next.

I’ll be weaving in what I call the Four Great Truths from the One Cause project—especially the truths of Interconnectedness and Stewardship. Because the more we understand how deeply woven into nature we are, the more natural it becomes to care. To take responsibility. To begin again.

In parallel, my wife Ann and I have been exploring what it means to respond to this moment in how we live. We’ve started to reimagine our home, not just as a shelter, but as a model—what we’re calling a “Loving Homestead.” A small-scale, relational, resilient experiment in living more simply, regeneratively, and interdependently.

We’re still discerning what it will look like and who it may include. But we know this: whether the global systems succeed or collapse, we’ll need community. We’ll need each other. And we’ll need values strong enough to guide us when certainty falls away.

The deeper question we’re holding is: Do we keep pretending the world will stay the same, or do we prepare—body, heart, and soul—for what’s coming?

To pretend is to choose the default path—the slow, grinding collapse of systems that can’t sustain themselves. To prepare, to respond with heart and intention, is to shape something different: a life of meaning, connection, and service, even if it’s harder, even if it asks more of us. It’s the path of joy through truth.

This moment also calls us to speak. Especially to those we love.

Read’s words echo in my heart: “There’s still time to choose transformation before collapse. But the window is narrow.”

That’s not doom-mongering. That’s love in action. And speaking it clearly—with our children, our neighbors, our communities—is one of the most radical acts we can commit.

During another recent webinar hosted by The Aspen Chapel titled How Do We Respond to the Time We’re Living Through?, I was shaken and stirred by a story shared by Andrew Harvey, one of the speakers.

Harvey recalled a conversation between Winston Churchill and his granddaughter, Edwina Sandys. She had asked her grandfather what leadership looks like in impossible times.

Churchill replied that real leadership requires four things:

* To face the extremity of the danger without illusion, false hope, or magical thinking.

* To be brave enough to tell the truth, even if it costs you love or approval.

* To call on others to draw on their deepest courage, wisdom, and joy.

* And perhaps most powerfully, to evoke a vision—an exalted goal—so compelling that people are willing to risk everything to help bring it forth, even if it may never be fully realized.

That’s what this moment demands of us.

Not easy answers. But truth. Not perfection. But participation. Not guarantees. But love strong enough to move us anyway.

Harvey went further, calling this moment not just a crisis—but a sacred opportunity. A dark night of the soul for our species, through which we might shed the false self of consumer culture and awaken something deeper, fiercer, and more aligned with Life itself.

He calls it becoming “Love’s sacred warrior.” And though his words are strong, they resonate with the clarity of someone who has lived through the fire.

So I return to the same question I asked at the beginning. It’s a question I carry with me into each Circle, each conversation, and every decision we make about our future:

What does Love ask of us now?

It’s not an easy question. But it might be the only one that matters.

I invite you to sit with it. With your family. With your community. With your own heart.

And then, when you’re ready, join me. Join us.

Let’s stop waiting for permission to lead the change.Because if not us, then who?

Resources & Invitations

▶️ Watch the Full Conversation with Dr. Rupert Read:Truth to Action: The Transformation the Climate Crisis RequiresA powerful call to courageous truth-telling and transformative action in the face of collapse, hosted by The Way Forward: Regenerative Conversations.

▶️ Watch Andrew Harvey’s Soul-Stirring Talk:How Do We Respond to the Time We Are Living Through?Hosted by The Aspen Chapel, this conversation dives into the deeper spiritual invitation of our moment in history—with wisdom from mystics, elders, and the fierce clarity of Love.

🌀 Join Our First Earth Listening Circle (Local Western NC):If you’re ready to explore these truths in community and listen for what Love is asking of you, I invite you to join our first local Earth Listening Circle:Details & RSVP here.

This isn’t about having the answers.It’s about making space for real conversation—rooted in truth, grief, imagination, and hope.