On the Precipice of Change

Navigating the tensions of collective transformation

We’ve been functioning, coping, and reluctantly processing the current state of reality. We’ve been reaching, sharing, and trying to make sense of the chasm between our experiences. We're coming to terms with the truth that while we live in one world, our realities are wildly different. Although this has always been the case, witnessing the disparity has been profoundly disorienting, making us question everything from our actions to our morals. 

We’ve barely escaped our civilized history's most extensive global shared experience, yet we’re contending with so much uncertainty. 

I am both in awe of our collective efforts to contain the tensions of this moment and deeply disturbed by the fact that we must do so. Divisiveness is rampant, infiltrating our communities and demanding that we choose between good and evil, right and wrong, left and right. Politics has a strong hold on reality no matter where you live or which side of the spectrum you’re on. Even moderates are getting attacked for their perspectives. We’re contending with adults who act like children and children who’ve been forced into adulthood—no words could encapsulate the depth of this paradox. Some of us are drowning while others are watching from the shoreline.

There are defining moments in human history, and this decade is one of them. We are on the precipice of significant change that occurs once every lifetime. If the past 5 years have taught us anything, it’s that while we may be headed toward a more equitable and peaceful future in the long term, things can and will get more polarized and volatile in the short term. We all feel this on some level, making us more afraid of losing our perceived sense of safety and security, grasping at anything that might soothe the possibility that things could worsen.

How can things possibly get worse?

We are three days away from an election that will impact many worldwide. We are on the edge of our seats, waiting, wondering, praying, hoping—most of us are powerless yet deeply entangled. This moment is a reminder of our inherent interconnection. Despite our borders, divergent ideologies, and political dynamics, what happens in one country impacts another—we share the consequences and power of our choices and those of our leaders. 

The role of revolutionaries and visionaries in times of significant change is to hold the duality of dismantling one world while building another. Just as an architect looks at a decrepit home and envisions its transformation, as future-makers, we are tasked with breaking down current systems and structures while imagining what might come next. At times, it feels like an impossible job, but collectively, we have the power to not only dream but to bring about the necessary changes to unify our efforts toward a new social order. 

Change is the operating system of existence. It’s the invisible force that moves us toward our potential.

Change is the thread of truth that binds us across space and time—in the words of writer Octavia Butler, “The only lasting truth is change.” Yet, we either desperately seek it or actively avoid it. Sometimes, we do both, keeping us in a state of friction and causing widespread chaos. This is precisely where we find ourselves now—not in a battle between left and right, but between those who want change and those who do not.

How we navigate change determines our future and defines who we become. 

Accepting change is challenging because while it's a universal experience, its impact is profoundly individual. Change is terrifying for those who benefit from the status quo because it threatens their sense of self and position in the world. Relinquishing power and control, even if most of it is an illusion, is a concession many would never consider. For one, it’s terribly inconvenient, and two, it requires individuals and groups to make seeming sacrifices, which can feel outrageous in a world built on systems driven by survival. 

Humans change behaviour based on values and incentives. We change when we must or can no longer tolerate our current state. We only opt to do things differently when we feel it might result in something more beneficial or when we have no choice. Inspiring individualists to prioritize the collective good while giving up individual privileges feels like a multi-century project for which we simply do not have time. Like a biological clock, the climate crisis is forcing us to transform or face the possibility of societal collapse. 

It is in our nature to wait for things to become unbearable before reimagining a new way of operating. We’d rather go to the edge of whatever cliff we’re on now and face potential doom than turn around and consider a different direction. This is why I believe the next 5-10 years will be even more challenging than the last. We’re headed toward the tipping point of collective tolerance. We’re stoking the fires of rage and anxiety. Fear is everpresent in our daily interactions and the quiet moments alone when we grapple with how world events will impact our lives, families, careers, and futures. 

In the words of James Baldwin, “Any real change implies the breakup of the world as one has always known it, the loss of all that gave one an identity, the end of safety. And at such a moment...one clings to what one knew, or dreamed that one possessed.”

So, what do we do? What can we do?

We grieve. 

We grieve the life we once had. We grieve the people we thought we were. We grieve the dreams we have to leave behind. We grieve the loss of every child and every family. We grieve separation, isolation, and division. 

Grief is a powerful tool for personal transformation and just as effective for collective change. It is a force of nature that can break down any wall. It is natural, concrete, and essential. Grief is a mechanism we must use to transmute cruelty, shame, apathy, and powerlessness. The cost of not doing so is too high and will only lead to more fear, violence, polarization, and hate. 

The difference between us and our technologies is that we are not bound by knowledge; we are sentient beings empowered to feel, think, and envision. We must use both our intellect and our instinct to shape reality. If we don’t grieve, we’ll add another layer of intellectualization to our humanity and continue solving our problems through science, technology, and engineering—which alone are insufficient. The process of grief clears out the old to make space for the new. It honours the past and enables us to imagine futures. We must be willing to let go of our perspectives, opinions, beliefs, and desires—our stubborn need to be right—to confront reality, accept it for all its beauty and turmoil, and begin again. 

Grief is a portal that enables us to expand our capacity for change. The more we grieve, the more we learn to navigate uncertainty and adapt to cycles of progress and decline. We avoid grief because it’s inconvenient, inefficient, and excruciating. Grieving is accepting defeat. To grieve is to acknowledge one's powerlessness in a situation. We grieve when we experience loss, especially the death of a loved one, but grief itself is the practice of dying. And in this moment in our shared history, something needs to die. Some unconscious, self-centred, win-at-any-cost energy needs to burn so we can rise from its ashes more connected, aligned, and attuned to our interdependence. 

Despite those fighting to uphold the status quo, the world is changing. I know this because those resisting change are increasing their efforts, and those driving it are gaining momentum. Whether we like it or not, the tides of change are coming, and they will disarm us into submission. Whatever you fear losing or whatever you’ve lost, whether a person, an opportunity, power, safety, security, or a belief system—grieve it. Grieve it so you can be free and clear to create a new world. 

Regardless of what happens on November 5th, 2024, we are entering a period of great turbulence. The only way to get through it is to stay grounded, connected, and rooted in something more powerful than our individual desires and goals. Community and collaboration are the antidote to the forces that attempt to divide us. Something is fragmenting and forming on a collective level. If we can confront it, we can intentionally shape it. Whether you’re making art, building a company, gathering change-makers, or writing a book, remember that the work we do now will set the precedence for the next century. 

In my last essay, I shared how history often informs the future. We change in cycles, repeating patterns until we outgrow them. Think back to the defining moments of our lives over the past 50+ years. How did they change us? What did they catalyze? Who did we become on the other side? Perhaps, with some reflection, we can be more intentional about how we want to respond to the changes ahead of us. 

Together, we are taking a leap of faith. I don't know where we’ll end up, but I’m confident we must leap. If hope is rooted in concrete proof that something can be achieved, faith is knowing that, collectively, we can adapt and evolve no matter how much uncertainty and adversity we face. We would not be confronting this moment if we did not have the capacity to rise to the challenge. Whether (our) humanity survives is yet to be determined, but as creators of heroes, villains, and timeless love stories, we are actively writing the future and must continue to advocate for the world we want and need. 

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