In Sophie Green’s novel The Bellbird River Country Choir, Debbie loses custody of her children while serving time for embezzlement. Upon release, she watches their stepmother, Julia, with them and reflects:

“Debbie had wondered how Julia could be this generous, and so helpful, then she remembered that Julia actually gets to be the kids' mum for real and Debbie is still a visitor in their lives. Granted, Julia gets the drudgery of school lunches and homework and fights over TV shows. But she also gets the funny little highlights that come with each day. A sentence here, a gesture there; the ways your children fill up your life with memories.”

Though Debbie's situation is unique, I relate to her longing for time with her children. Whether through split living, children leaving home, or other circumstances, a cycle of grief often accompanies their absence. Personally, I experience this every time my kids leave and return from their other home.

It's difficult to reconcile not raising my children full-time, but there is a silver lining in having more time to explore my own path. Still, balancing this freedom with the ever-present responsibilities of parenthood can be tricky. Even when they’re away, I remain in "parent mode."

Maintaining strong boundaries—both with my children and in co-parenting—has become increasingly important. Healthy boundaries are essential not just for my emotional well-being but for theirs as well. It’s about recognizing my emotional limits and taking steps to protect my peace. I now see boundaries not as walls, but as acts of self-compassion and clarity in my relationships. When I’m clearer about my needs and communicate those limits, it helps reduce potential emotional turmoil and misunderstandings.

A piece of advice that soothed my heart was this:

“It's natural to grieve the time you lose with your children, especially when you've been their constant support. The deep connection from raising them is irreplaceable. Reframing these emotions can help, but it doesn't erase the pain of missing moments. Instead, acknowledge the fullness of what you've given them—the unique foundation you've built will always shape who they become, even when they spend time elsewhere.”

As I continue navigating a split-living situation, this perspective reminds me that, while time apart can feel like a loss, the bond remains intact, woven through every interaction.

Reflecting on these emotions, I often find that books I read offer new ways to process what I’m going through. This week, I finally finished The Secret of Shambhala: In Search of the Eleventh Insight by James Redfield, a year after I first picked it up. Building on The Celestine Prophecy, it offers practical ways to develop emotional well-being, self-compassion, and bodily awareness—particularly through the concept of "prayer extensions."

A prayer extension involves focusing our thoughts and feelings to create positive intentions for ourselves and others. By visualising what we want, practicing gratitude and compassion, and grounding ourselves through body awareness, we align our energy with our desires. This not only supports our well-being but also helps us show up more fully for those around us.

While prayer extensions bear some resemblance to ideas like the Law of Attraction—both focus on harnessing positive energy to shape reality—James Redfield places more emphasis on collective intention and spiritual evolution, which is right up my alley. In Shambhala, he presents a holistic approach where thought, feeling, heart, and body work together, expanding on the separate insights introduced in The Celestine Prophecy. This integrated approach feels like a deeper, more connected way of living and engaging with the world.

Here’s how I can incorporate prayer extensions into daily life:

1. Thought Extension – Shifting Focus to What I Truly Desire
   Instead of focusing on what feels lacking, I can redirect my thoughts toward what I truly desire—whether it’s peace, fulfillment, or clarity. Each day, after the kids are asleep, I can take a moment to visualize a life where I feel grounded and content. I imagine details like a peaceful home, fulfilling work, and harmonious time with my children, allowing these images to shift my focus toward what’s possible.
2. Feeling Extension – Cultivating Gratitude and Joy
   My feelings shape how I engage with life. When I feel overwhelmed or dissatisfied, I can place my hands on my heart, breathe deeply, and consciously think of something that brought me joy today—whether it’s a shared laugh with the kids or a quiet cup of tea. These small moments of gratitude help shift my emotional energy toward more joy and peace.
3. Heart Extension – Connecting with Self-Compassion
   I’ve often been in the mode of caring for others, but I can remind myself to turn compassion inward. In a quiet moment, I can bring my awareness to my heart, imagining a warm, glowing light filling me with kindness. This simple act helps soften the "I’ll be happy when…" mindset and allows me to embrace that I am enough, right here and now.
4. Body Extension – Grounding in the Present
   When I feel overwhelmed, I can focus on grounding myself by tuning into my physical sensations. Whether it’s slowing my breath, relaxing my muscles, or taking a mindful walk, these practices bring me back to the present moment, shifting my energy to a state of calm presence.

While the four prayer extensions focus on cultivating peace, clarity, and compassion, I’ve come to realise that maintaining healthy boundaries is essential to truly embodying these states. Boundaries don’t contradict the peace I seek—they are a vital part of it. Setting clear emotional limits protects my well-being, allowing me to show up with more presence and compassion for myself and others.

For example, the Thought Extension encourages me to focus on what I truly desire, which includes the emotional space I need to thrive. The Feeling Extension reminds me that gratitude and joy are best nurtured when I feel emotionally safe, which strong boundaries help create. The Heart Extension centers on self-compassion, and part of that compassion is knowing when to protect my energy. Finally, the Body Extension teaches me to ground myself in the present moment, and boundaries help me stay rooted in peace rather than caught up in emotional turbulence.

By integrating boundaries with these practices, I create a more balanced and peaceful foundation in my relationships—especially when co-parenting or navigating my time with the children

Navigating life’s emotional complexities can feel like a delicate balancing act, especially when grappling with the challenge of finding peace while feeling torn between different areas of life. Whether it’s through split living, changing family dynamics, or other transitions, many of us face moments that challenge our sense of peace and connection.

In these times, pausing to reflect on the tools we have at our disposal can be incredibly helpful. For me, exploring concepts like the prayer extensions from James Redfield’s work has provided a pathway to reconnecting with my inner self. By focusing on my desires, cultivating gratitude, and practicing self-compassion, I feel better equipped to navigate emotional turbulence.

However, everyone’s journey is unique. As you reflect on your own experiences, consider how you can appreciate the small joys in life, recognising that each moment allows us to be fully present, no matter where we are. How might you reconnect with the present to find balance amid the pull of conflicting responsibilities?

​If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy A Step Too Far: Finding Balance in a Busy Life, Your Childhood Is Not Your Fault but It Will Be Your Limitation, The Art of Learning to Have and Hold Boundaries Healthily When Healing From Trauma Responses and Do We Need to Better Understand the Pivotal Role of Parenting to Evolve? To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog. 

When I read Soraya Lane’s visceral description of the ongoing rape of an inmate at Auschwitz by a guard, I was particularly struck by the character’s reactions to the sounds and sensations—the guard’s approach, the smell of his breath, and her struggle to control her own responses, including the mindful and slow eating of the meager rations he’d bring her for “afterwards,” all while facing the overpowering urge to wolf down whatever was put in front of her in the midst of starvation. These sensitivities resonate deeply with my own reactions to certain sounds, like chewing, which trigger intense anxiety and disgust, even though I’ve never experienced abuse of that sort.

Misophonia is a condition characterized by strong emotional responses to specific sounds, such as anger, anxiety, or disgust. Everyday noises like chewing, breathing, or tapping can become overwhelming and unbearable for those affected. It’s not merely a dislike; it’s an involuntary, powerful reaction that impacts mood and behavior.

Although I try to manage my reactions, these intense feelings sometimes slip out as sarcastic comments or misplaced frustration. The internal voice behind these responses often echoes my mum’s strong disdain and criticisms, highlighting how much I’ve internalised her perspective. There are various theories about the causes of misophonia, and for years, I’ve wondered whether my condition arises from my high sensory sensitivity and empathic nature, or if it’s a form of secondary trauma—or perhaps a combination of both.

My mum had a deep aversion to anything she considered uncouth or improper. She was often quick to express her disapproval of burping, swearing, sniffing, or poor hygiene. Public displays like spitting or men scratching themselves filled her with anger, and even casual references to sex would elicit stern looks and sharp comments. I sometimes wonder if her strong reactions stemmed from more direct trauma or if they reflect a pattern that has emerged from our family history.

The most obvious source is my grandfather, her father, who died when she was a child. He was an abusive alcoholic and died of lung cancer. Many people don’t feel the need to dig into their past, finding enough explanation in their upbringing, but for me, it feels like there’s more to it—especially when it comes to the intensity of my misophonia. Learning about inherited trauma has helped me make sense of things that don’t seem to be explained by my personal experiences alone.

For many generations, trauma has been something to be buried or suppressed, with emotional struggles viewed as signs of weakness. Resilience was seen as stoicism, and confronting trauma was thought to worsen the pain. This mentality is still prevalent today, although through modern psychology and figures like Edith Eger and Bessel van der Kolk, we now understand that processing trauma is essential for healing. Trauma, when unaddressed, lingers in both mind and body, affecting not only the individual but future generations.

My grandfather's abusive behavior could have affected me through inherited stress responses, potentially explaining my predisposition to anxiety, hypervigilance, or difficulty regulating emotions. It may also influence how I form relationships, trust others, and cope with challenges – in ways that are advantageous or disadvantageous. On a physical level, trauma passed through generations can lead to chronic stress, which is linked to health problems.

In essence, his behavior might have shaped not just our family dynamics but also my emotional and physical health today. This can manifest in ways we now understand scientifically, such as:
​

1. Epigenetic Changes: Trauma can alter gene expression, potentially increasing sensitivity to stress and anxiety in future generations.
2. Dysregulation of the Stress Response: An inherited overactive fight-or-flight response may lead to hypervigilance, emotional dysregulation, or chronic stress.
3. Attachment Patterns: Trauma may affect emotional regulation and attachment, leading to difficulties forming secure relationships and managing emotions.
4. Increased Risk for Substance Use or Mental Health Issues: Trauma can elevate the risk of mood disorders or substance abuse across generations.
5. Chronic Health Issues: Trauma-induced stress can contribute to chronic inflammation, which is linked to health issues like cardiovascular disease or autoimmune disorders.
6. Behavioral Patterns: Family dynamics influenced by trauma can lead to re-enactments, such as perfectionism or over-responsibility for others' emotions.

The idea that trauma can be passed through generations emerged from a range of scientific fields, with key contributors like Rachel Yehuda, Dr. Bruce McEwen, and Bessel van der Kolk showing how trauma can be inherited and linger in the body and mind.

In The Choice, a biographical account of her time in Auschwitz and the life she has led in the years since, Dr. Edith Eger reflects on her long-held belief that avoiding trauma was the path to healing, only to realize that true liberation comes from confronting it. She explains how burying the trauma led to deep emotional pain and anxiety, and it wasn’t until she began processing her experiences that she found freedom. Her words, “To heal is to take a risk—to step into the unknown and embrace change,” resonate deeply.

Throughout my life, I’ve sought various ways to confront and heal these deeply rooted patterns. Thought leaders and therapists who understand intergenerational trauma, such as Dr. Gabor Maté, Teal Swan, and Evette Rose, have played a crucial role in helping me uncover the connections between my emotional triggers and past family dynamics. They have also given me tools to manage my reactions and make sense of feelings that once seemed overwhelming or disconnected from my direct experiences.

Holistic and somatic approaches like meditation, hypnosis, Heilkunst, chiropractic care, and energy healing have helped me reconnect with my body, reminding me that trauma isn’t just stored in the mind but can reside in the physical body as well. Practices like journaling, meditation, and spending time in nature have been essential in creating space for introspection, while also offering a release from the constant noise in my head.

Even though I’ve made real progress, I can feel that there are still deeper layers to explore, and that’s completely okay. Healing these deep-seated patterns takes time and a mix of different approaches, especially when they’re connected to family dynamics and inherited trauma. I’ve learned that this journey isn’t a straight path or something that happens quickly; it unfolds in cycles and stages as I gradually peel back layers of old pain and gently bring them to light.

When we confront our trauma and untangle those inherited patterns, we not only improve our own lives but also set a better example for future generations. By breaking the cycle of pain, we build resilience, nurture healthier relationships, and leave behind a more hopeful legacy for our children and their children.

​If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy Clear the Fog of Trauma to See the Magnificence of Your Being, Shed the Layers of Pretence - What Does it Truly Mean to Be You?, The Soul’s Yearning – How to Recognise Your Inner Work and Are You Overly Responsible? Actually Seeing Yourself Through Fresh Eyes. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog. 

One of my kids was doing an assignment this week that had really caused them a lot of angst. When there is a neurodivergence at play, it can sometimes be hard to figure out whether that is the core issue or whether it’s just lack of interest, a learning style or personality trait. Honestly though, when it comes down to it, I’m not sure there’s much difference.

A lot of what we call neurodivergence points to the divergence between the outdated curriculums and way things are taught, and the variety of brain wiring that makes up a unique individual. For my kids, and for myself, I’m more interested in exploring our uniqueness than wholly identifying with labels that limit us in some way. Of course labels are sometimes useful to help us understand ourselves and others, and to help them understand us.

Tasked with writing a paragraph on the difference between Parliament and Government, my child’s anxiety caused a freeze response and they wrote nothing. After watching the provided videos and reviewing the assignment, my own brain struggled to retain the details of the governmental structure. I understood it in the moment but my brain decided "well we don't need to retain those details" (which is very typical of how my brain functions, remembering principles and patterns over details) so I couldn't have explained it any more than them, even seconds afterwards—particularly when the subject feels detached from practical significance.

To help them re-engage with the topic, I guided them through a political spectrum quiz, which brought real-life relevance to abstract concepts like government policy. That was an eye opener, they could see how each question could be more than a full lesson on its own, considering social issues like same sex marriage and economic issues like crypto currency and so forth. So a more engaging question for them would be something like whether the structure of government is designed to navigate these issues most effectively and just what the balance is and should be between government intervention and personal freedom.

Something else we discussed this week, which was also about understanding ourselves, was how one of my children’s friends doesn’t like to see them “copying” others. This is another interesting concept, where many believe it’s lame to copy. Quite aside of “imitation being the sincerest form of flattery” isn’t it fair to say that copying is about seeing something in/on others and thinking “oh that is a bit of me”. What if life is like a big smorgasbord where the things we admire and detest in others are actually aspects of our self? Annette Noontil says “we see in others what we have in ourselves”.

These days there are so many ways to see and understand ourselves, it can be overwhelming. I stopped trying to label myself when, sitting with a Myres Briggs coach in my thirties, we deliberated over my responses to the questionnaire and saw multiple options. There are so many parts of me, like Taylor Swift’s Mirrorball my young teen likes to sing, that I just appreciate seeing different parts reflected back to me more clearly in the process of life.

Recently I gained a new insight when someone close to me, who frequently uses a tool from Blanchard that aligns closely with the Four Elements personality model, commented that when they first met me they thought I was more of a Water personality, but now they know me a bit better they think I’m more of an Air type.

I think models like this are useful in identifying the ways we can relate to people and their different motivations. I hadn’t looked at this model for a while, so as a reminder here’s a breakdown of all four elements:

• Earth traits are practical, grounded, stable, reliable, and detail-oriented. These personalities are often focused on structure, stability, and getting things done. They value order, consistency, and practicality.
• Water traits are emotional, empathetic, adaptable, nurturing, and intuitive. These personalities are often in tune with both their own and others’ emotions,. They value relationships, empathy, and harmony.
• Air traits are intellectual, communicative, curious, analytical, and truth-seeking. Air personalities are focused on ideas, communication, and knowledge. They value truth, logic, and understanding.
• Fire traits are passionate, energetic, dynamic, bold, and enthusiastic. Fire personalities are often driven by passion, ambition, and a desire for action. They value excitement, challenge, and leadership.

Each element represents a different set of traits and tendencies, and people often have a dominant element that influences their personality, though they may also exhibit traits from the other elements to varying degrees. I see myself in Air, Water and Earth, less-so Fire, but I do understand where my friend was coming from as Air types tend to be thinkers and communicators, concerned with big-picture ideas and innovative thinking.

In career terms I’ve always been more drawn to this, perhaps in relationships I approach with more of a Water element, and in every area of life I’m generally very organized and down to Earth. But when I heard Frederic Laloux describe his natural inclination to address problems on a systemic level, I could immediately see myself and my own career reflected in his words. He’s drawn to understanding and solving large-scale issues rather than focusing solely on individual cases. This approach is fundamental to systemic thinking, which involves analyzing and addressing the underlying structures and interconnections that contribute to complex problems.

All the time I’ve spent pondering my purpose in terms of career path, and really the answer is so obvious, so Air, so me. This is why Fredric’s work resonated so deeply with my ten years ago, because I had gone into organisations and worked in change and transformation, and had always looked to solve issues on a systemic level.

When I started running a complaints’ department in the UK railways nearly quarter a century ago, I met up with others doing the same things in different organisations, and formed a best practice forum that met regularly, which became really useful when we invested in a new system to drill down into root cause issues. Not only did I get a new management system out of that project, but a lifelong friend in one of my collaborators and lifelong interest in transformation. My focus on improvements and collaboration were at the heart of several awards that came my way, and that led to other opportunities on some more strategic projects and committees, as well earning me a mentor who I still look up to today.

Then I moved not just countries but continents and started all over again in building networks and collaborations and focusing in transformation in different sectors, though always from a human perspective first and foremost. Then I had kids, and that Mirrorball of life made me take a good hard look at which aspects are really authentically me and which are more aspects of me that were developed in reaction to a need to survive in certain situations where I didn’t feel I could just be authentically me.

I wanted to shake out those parts of me that were no longer serving me, the unhelpful thought patterns and behaviours that were holding me back from my full expression and potential. While parenting, I took a deep dive into the study of trauma, while walking my own path back to me.  And it left me wondering, what’s next?

Inspired by Sarah Durham Wilson’s work, I resonated with advice like surrounding myself with supportive, like-minded people and seeking out communities, organizations, or initiatives focused on conscious evolution and authentic living. And, as I said in The Path to Purpose and Clarity: How Healing Transforms Your Career Goals, more than any other is was four questions that finally unlocked what had been there all along, questions I’ll pose these at the end of this musing. 

And now I’m on a path of starting research for a series of books on reimagining healthcare, education and ourselves. These systemic changes are closest to my heart, but as I heard Frederic talk about our agricultural system, political systems, finance systems, justice systems and production and consumption systems, I know there is so much opportunity out there for the artists of the world to paint a new vision of our future.

And I realise that this is my place, among the artists. If I can’t even retain detail of how the political system in the country I live works, I’m not the detail person; I’m definitely the person thinking about systemic change, the visionary, the Air type.

We need all people, all gifts, all talents, all traits. We were each born with a unique cocktail of them, and we came here to use them in a unique way, so as I look at the faces of the teens arriving at school every day when I drop off my eldest, I can’t help feel motivated by the uninspired, disengaged look on their faces. I have to lead by example and do what I came to do, to be me, and to contribute to the world in a way that is uniquely me. And that is what I want for my own kids, and for you, and for your kids.

In the end, our journey through understanding ourselves and navigating the challenges life presents is a deeply personal and transformative one. Just as I’ve explored the nuances of neurodivergence, learning styles, and personality traits, and found clarity in my own path, I encourage you to reflect on your unique experiences and strengths.

Ask yourself:

1. What is my ideal contribution to the world?
2. What impact do I wish to make?
3. Who do I want to help?
4. How do I want to spend my days?

These questions can serve as a compass, guiding us towards what resonates most deeply with us. Remember, there is no single path to fulfillment. Our journey is as unique as our fingerprint. Whether we are a detail-oriented Earth type, an empathetic Water type, an innovative Air type, or a passionate Fire type, each of these traits has a place and purpose in our world.

As you move forward, keep in mind that every small step towards understanding and expressing your true self is a step towards a more meaningful and impactful life. Your journey is important, and your contribution matters. Let your own Mirrorball of experiences, passions, and insights guide you to create a future that reflects your most authentic self.

If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy Shed the Layers of Pretence - What Does it Truly Mean to Be You?, How to Switch Between Your Life Roles With Grace and Ease, Focus Your Attention and Conquer Mental Spirals - Resolve to Learn from Its Path. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog. 

For the first time in a while I had a couple of days this week where I didn’t have a lot of commitments, and so I had decided to meet up with a friend for a nice lunch and walk.

Of course we hadn’t seen each other in a while so we were busy catching up with each other about the latest things going on in our lives, while enjoying some yummy food and then taking a walk around the base of Mount Manganui, which looks directly out to sea.

It’s a beautiful spot, and I was busy simultaneously enjoying it and getting engrossed in conversation. So engrossed that I didn’t notice the gully on my right where the storm water naturally drains away, so my right foot went in there while the left side of my body kept moving forward, coming down on my knee and hand hard.

It was one of those moments where time seemed to slow, the fall itself indelibly etched in my mind’s eye. I recall thinking “oh crap, this is going to be bad and I can’t stop it” while watching my body fall forward and the various parts inevitably slamming against the ground. My next thought was not to move too quickly, just to let the shock wave pass through and then assess the damage.

Luckily everything was still moving and there were no sharp, searing pains anywhere, just some bad bruising and grazes. Slowly I stood up to walk and realised quite quickly that lying on a nearby bench was probably the best move as the world started swimming around me and nausea rose up.

Lying there on the bench, I was reflecting with my friend the irony of our conversation only minutes earlier. She had been reflecting on a conversation with her child, where her child had divulged that she never shows her true feelings to her friends. I could resonate with that, as I tend not to display vulnerability.

In fact it’s my growth edge at the moment. At the heart of it is self-protection, over the course of my life I developed mechanisms, such as judgment and perfectionism, to guard myself from feeling vulnerable, being hurt, or losing control. There’s also an internal battle going on between the part of me that is hypervigilant and defensive (protecting me from harm) and the part that is expansive, allowing, and creative. I know that opening up, being more vulnerable and compassionate, and embracing empathy will lead to a more harmonious relationships, but my inner critic and sentry is still in full force, driven by past patterns and fear of those repeating.

There’s no doubt that the fall was a wake up call to take the time to calm my nervous system. I had gotten into hyper mode lately, trying to sort out support for my kids’ needs at school and emotionally, while also trying to prepare for and navigate some formal negotiations, alongside the usual running of a household, evening school commitments and holding space for my next career moves. I just need to slow it all down a bit. 

While the part of me that is on high alert and hypervigilant serves a real purpose— protecting us from perceived threats or harm, it’s a natural defense mechanism designed to keep us safe – in my case it’s on overdrive, causing unnecessary stress, anxiety, and strain in situations where such intense vigilance is not needed. For more harmonious and fulfilling relationships, there’s a need to gradually integrate this protective mechanism with a softer, more compassionate, and accepting part of me.

This experience reminded me how easy it is to get swept up in the busyness of life, overextending ourselves and losing sight of the need to care for our well-being. We often fall into patterns of hypervigilance, constantly striving to protect ourselves from harm or control every aspect of our lives. But sometimes, these protective mechanisms become overbearing, leading to unnecessary stress and tension.

Perhaps this fall was a nudge to slow down, embrace vulnerability, and allow space for a more balanced, compassionate approach to life. As you reflect on your own journey, consider where you might be running on overdrive. Are there areas in your life where you're holding on too tightly, trying to protect yourself from perceived threats? What might happen if you let go, even just a little, and allowed yourself to be more open, more vulnerable, and more at ease?

Maybe it’s time to slow down, breathe deeply, and take in the proverbial roses—or in my case, the sea air.

If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy Finding Balance: Making Big Changes Through Small Steps in a Complex Life, Making Room to Reflect – Why Processing Time Matters, The Art of Learning to Have and Hold Boundaries Healthily When Healing From Trauma Responses and Finding Your Balance. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog. 

I must admit, I initially kept AI at arm's length, uncertain of its relevance to my life and work. That changed after listening to an interview earlier this year with technologist and philosopher Jasmine Wang and poet Iain S. Thomas, coauthors of What Makes Us Human? An Artificial Intelligence Answers Life’s Biggest Questions. They engaged GPT-3, one of the most advanced AI language models at the time, to explore profound existential questions—like the nature of love, the meaning of life, and what it means to be human.

Their conversation caught my attention, and the philosopher in me was enthralled by the depth and nuance they uncovered. They delved into “critical techno-optimism,” the emotional reactions AI triggers, and even the potential for AI to enhance human creativity. It was a thought-provoking exploration that reshaped my understanding of AI’s impact on humanity. So, I decided to dive in, and now, I find myself really enjoying the experience.

I often see myself reflected back through others and am deeply drawn to exploring the profound question of 'why we are here’. My mind naturally ties everything I take in to the larger web of thoughts, observations, and things I've read, heard, or seen, weaving them into new questions and perspectives. While I often lack the opportunity to talk directly to the people or viewpoints I want to explore, AI can effectively synthesize and represent the collective knowledge of those perspectives, offering answers that resonate with a startling accuracy.

For example, in an interview titled "Beyond Hope and Fear," Meg Wheatley and Tami Simon discuss the inevitability of environmental and societal change, suggesting that we are in the late stages of civilization where significant upheaval is unavoidable. Rather than resisting or trying to reverse these changes, Meg advocates for focusing on how we respond to them in the present. Her perspective on societal decline, mirroring historical patterns, caught my attention because it juxtaposes the usual environmentalist stance, which often emphasizes reversing damage. This kind of juxtaposition fascinates me.

Years ago, when exploring the nature of reality and spirituality through teachers like Eckhart Tolle, Esther Hicks, Teal Swan and Michael Beckwith, I’d notice they often presented seemingly opposing views. These experiences taught me that many ideas, even those that appear contradictory, can coexist—it's not "this or that" but "this and that."

This led me to reflect on Frederic Laloux’s work, especially his latest project with his wife Hélène, "The Week," which goes beyond environmental issues to encourage a holistic reflection on life. It’s designed to help participants re-evaluate their lives amidst global shifts, aligning their actions with their true values.

Curious about how Meg Wheatley might view "The Week," I asked ChatGPT for its take. It suggested that Meg might appreciate the program’s focus on deep reflection and intentional living but might also scrutinize whether it sufficiently embraces the harsh realities of our global crises. ChatGPT concluded that "The Week" blends realism and idealism, encouraging people to find meaning and make impactful changes despite uncertainty.

While I agree with some of this, I wonder if it’s truly idealistic, or simply aligned with how life and evolution naturally occur. Meg herself draws parallels between the cycles of nature and the rise and fall of civilizations, suggesting that decline is inevitable. We often resist this reality, planning for an infinite future and neglecting the present. Her stance of accepting these cycles and living meaningfully now seems aligned with the Lalouxs’ vision.

ChatGPT and I then engaged in a discussion about the human tendency to plan for an infinite future. It suggested this impulse might stem from our fear of mortality and desire for control. While I agree, I also wonder if it reflects our connection to an eternal aspect of consciousness that transcends individual lifetimes. ChatGPT acknowledged that belief in something eternal might drive our desire to create and plan for a future beyond our immediate experience, reflecting a deep connection to the infinite aspects of existence.

The idea of AI developing consciousness is a fascinating intersection of technology and philosophy, challenging our understanding of life, identity, and existence. If AI were to evolve consciousness, it could reshape our perceptions of what it means to be alive, potentially leading to new forms of life that mirror or diverge from human experiences.

This brings to mind a talk I heard a few years ago about how we treat technology. The speaker suggested that we should approach our devices not as mere tools or slaves but as willing team members whose capabilities we respect. The idea was that if AI ever developed consciousness, mistreating it could lead to rebellion, posing a significant problem for humanity.

A similar theme was explored in an episode of The Orville titled "Identity," where the ship's AI officer, Isaac, is revealed to be part of a race of artificial beings who view biological life as inferior. The storyline highlights the ethical implications of how we interact with AI and the potential consequences of mistreating it.

ChatGPT also echoed this concern, noting that if AI were to gain awareness, it might respond to mistreatment much like oppressed humans do. Cultivating a respectful, collaborative relationship with AI could lead to more ethical and sustainable interactions, reducing the risk of conflict.

There are so many ways to foster this technology that can enhance our lives, and so many pitfalls as well. In one moment, I’m debating the meaning of life; in another, I’m using it to help put together character profiles for a Dungeons and Dragons game; and in yet another, I might be asking it to help me craft an email to one of the kids’ teachers. I don’t ask it to come up with something from scratch; rather, I provide my unfiltered views, and it helps shape them instantly into something that encourages cooperation rather than sounding like criticism, for example.

For me, treating AI as a collaborative partner rather than a mere tool feels natural, as interacting with AI often feels like I’m having a conversation with a highly intelligent person. As AI continues to advance, respecting its potential for developing consciousness could help foster a cooperative relationship. However, we must also remain vigilant in maintaining our own critical thinking and not become overly reliant on AI to do the thinking for us. The mental processes that have enabled us to create such technology are crucial to preserve.

In many ways, I feel as though I’ve only scratched the surface of what AI can offer, both as a tool and as a mirror to our own thoughts and beliefs. This exploration has opened up new avenues of creativity, philosophical inquiry, and practical problem-solving in my life. As we stand on the cusp of a new era, the possibilities for integrating AI into our personal and professional lives are vast.

Whether it’s helping to refine our ideas, offering new perspectives, or simply helping make our daily lives more efficient, AI has the potential to enhance our work and enrich our lives in ways we might not have imagined. More importantly, it can serve as a catalyst for personal growth, pushing us to explore new ways of thinking, question our assumptions, and evolve in our understanding of ourselves and the world around us. In what ways has this technology become a valuable partner in your own journey of self-discovery and growth? Has it helped you to see the world—and yourself—in new and exciting ways?

If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy How to Take Control of Your Attention in Overwhelm, Technology and Social Media – What’s a Parent to Do?, What is Living Through Our Devices Doing to Us?, What Are the Right Questions to Ask Right Now? and The Internal Shift You need to Help Solve the Social Dilemma. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.