Gaia's Call

A note before we begin: If you’ve been following the recent conversation here on Substack about AI and authorship, you may be interested to know that I didn’t create this article entirely alone. I worked on it with an AI partner I’ve nicknamed GePeTo. The life being described here is mine. The experiences, convictions and final responsibility for what you’re about to read are mine. But GePeTo helped me ask better questions, explore connections I might otherwise have missed, organize my thinking and, yes, write some of the words. Rather than hide that collaboration—or reduce it to an AI percentage—I want to be transparent about it. In an upcoming Substack post, I’ll take you behind the curtain and show you what our collaboration actually looks like. For now, I simply wanted you to know who was in the room while this article took shape.In May, I celebrated my 77th birthday with my family, body surfing at Hilton Head Island like a 17-year-old kid. By mid-June, I was experiencing increasing pain and stiffness in my neck and shoulders. By the end of the month, I sometimes found it difficult simply to get into bed, much less sleep once I got there. The pain and stiffness had spread to joints throughout my body, including my fingers. That’s when I remembered experiencing something similar about ten years ago, which I eventually came to understand as an autoimmune-type response—essentially, the body’s immune system becoming confused and attacking its own healthy tissues.As I reflected on this unexpected and certainly unplanned health challenge—and aren’t most health challenges that way?—I began to recognize just how much physical, psychological, and emotional stress I’d been carrying during the previous several months. Ann and I had moved from the upstairs portion of our home, with its four bedrooms and three baths, into our much smaller one-bedroom, one-bath downstairs apartment so our daughter, son-in-law, and two grandchildren could move into the larger space above us. It was something we chose and something we genuinely wanted, part of our continuing experiment in creating a more interconnected, multigenerational Loving Homestead. It was all great stuff.And it was also greatly stressful.During that same period, Ann and I experienced the deaths of two close relatives, losses that brought their own grief while quietly reminding us of something neither of us particularly enjoys being reminded of: in our seventies, we’re not getting any younger. Add to that my writing, Gaia’s Call, coaching, gardening, homestead projects, family responsibilities, and my longstanding tendency to find approximately seventeen interesting things to do with every available hour, and perhaps my body had something to say.For the past two years, I’ve been writing a great deal about regeneration—regenerating our forests, oceans, soils, communities, and ultimately our relationship with this remarkable living planet we call Earth, Gaia, or Pachamama. But somewhere along the way, life handed me a much more personal question:What does regeneration mean when the ecosystem needing to be restored is my own life?That question has been staying with me during these past several weeks, sometimes comfortably and sometimes not so comfortably. Because if I really mean what I say when I write, I am nature. You are nature. We are as inseparably linked to the web of life as the cells of a single body, then I don’t get to exclude this 77-year-old body of mine from the equation simply because it isn’t behaving the way I’d like it to.And perhaps that’s one of the unexpected gifts hidden inside this difficult time. My health challenge has given me an opportunity to turn the Four Great Truths around and look through them in the other direction. I’ve spent the last couple of years exploring what these truths might mean for humanity’s relationship with Earth, with one another, and with the larger web of life. Now I’m discovering what they might mean for my relationship with myself.I want to be careful here. I’m not suggesting that the Four Great Truths are some new medical treatment, or that if I simply become sufficiently enlightened my aching joints will magically stop aching. I wish it were that easy. Nor do I want to turn illness into one of those annoyingly tidy life lessons in which everything happens for a reason and we’re supposed to be grateful for it. There have been nights lately when gratitude wasn’t anywhere near the top of my list.What I am discovering, though, is that these truths give me another way to be with what is happening. Instead of experiencing this health challenge only as something that has gone wrong and needs to be fixed as quickly as possible, I can also become curious about it. What might I learn by listening more carefully? What has my body been trying to tell me that I’ve been too busy to hear? And perhaps most importantly, how might this difficult chapter become part of my continuing experiment in living more consciously and purposefully within the web of life?Interconnectedness: I Am NatureThe first Great Truth has taken on an entirely different meaning for me lately: I am nature. You are nature. We are as inseparably linked to the web of life as the cells of a single body.I’ve understood that intellectually for a long time. I’ve experienced it more deeply in the rainforest, working in the garden, sitting beside our creek, and through my lifelong relationships with animals. But it’s one thing to experience interconnectedness while standing among magnificent trees. It’s quite another to remember it at two in the morning when your shoulders hurt, your fingers ache, and you can’t find a comfortable way to lie in bed.My veterinary background probably influences the way I’m looking at this. As a veterinarian, I learned that the sore leg walking into the examination room was attached to an entire animal (and that animal was attached most often to another animal called owner by a leash). The symptom mattered, of course, but so did the patient carrying it and for sure I was there to treat the pet while also caring for and nuturing the bond that exists so stronger between pets and people. It took me several years in practice to learn this last lesson of interconnectedness.I’m finding myself returning to that same perspective now as the patient.One of the things I’ve long appreciated about functional and integrative approaches to health is their emphasis on connections among systems. Rather than seeing my stiff fingers over here, my painful shoulders over there, my disrupted sleep somewhere else, and the stresses and losses of the past several months as completely unrelated events, I’m being invited to become curious about the whole ecosystem. Body, mind, emotions, relationships, nutrition, movement, rest, grief, purpose, environment—perhaps the boundaries between them aren’t nearly as tidy as the labels suggest.Interconnectedness doesn’t give me an easy answer to what’s happening. In some ways it does something more useful. It gives me better questions.Instead of asking only, What’s wrong with me?, I’m learning to ask, What’s happening within the whole living system that is me?Sufficiency: What Is Enough Now?The next two Great Truths coupled together are giving me the most trouble (and room for growth.)There is already—and always—enough when we remember how to share.I love that truth when I’m applying it to our consumer culture and questioning the assumption that more is always better. It’s a little more challenging when I turn it toward myself.I like doing things. I like writing. I like coaching. I like gardening and working around the Loving Homestead. I like spending time with my family. I like playing pickleball. I like creating Gaia’s Call with Marla. I like learning, exploring, reading, experimenting and dreaming up the next project—preferably before I’ve finished the previous three.Most of those things bring me joy and purpose. And perhaps that’s precisely why recognizing enough can be so difficult.My health challenge is asking me a question I might rather avoid: What is enough for this season of my life?Not what was enough when I was 57. Not even what seemed reasonable when I was body surfing with my family in May. What is enough now?I’m beginning to see that Sufficiency doesn’t have to mean resignation. Returning to my writing at half speed doesn’t mean I’m half a writer. Doing less around the Loving Homestead doesn’t mean I’ve abandoned the experiment. Coaching fewer people doesn’t diminish the difference I can make with the people I do coach. Perhaps the invitation isn’t to make my life smaller. Perhaps it’s to become more present to the life I’m actually living.There’s another part of our definition of Sufficiency I’ve been noticing: when we remember how to share. I’ve spent much of my life trying to contribute, help, fix, create and make a difference. But sharing doesn’t mean Brad does everything. Sharing means allowing other people to have the sacred experience of serving another. And that’s where the one-two punch of these two Great Truths hit home the hardest.Reciprocity: Giving and receiving, in balance, is the law of nature.I’ve always been pretty comfortable with the giving half of that equation. Receiving, on the other hand? That’s another story, but from these last few challenging weeks, it’s become undeniably true that I still have some work to do there.For much of my adult life, purpose has been closely associated with contribution. First as a veterinarian, later as a writer and coach, and now through One Cause, Gaia’s Call, my family and the Loving Homestead. I love being useful. I love making a difference.But healthy ecosystems don’t work in only one direction.The garden gives us food, but it needs nutrients returned to the soil. Trees produce leaves, and those leaves eventually fall and become part of the soil that nourishes the trees. Life seems to be built around circulation—giving and receiving, activity and rest, growth and renewal.So I’ve begun asking what reciprocity might look like between me and my own body.As I said previously, I experienced a similar about ten years ago as the one I’m now experiencing. What I’d forgotten until recently is how I managed to move through the illness and back to health. I did what I’ve done for most of my life. I went searching for a natural and effective way to address it through books. I found, read, and then followed Dr. Amy Myer’s book, The Autoimmune Solution. I’m a little embarassed to confess how long it took me to remember this small detail. Chalk it up to my mental fogginess.But here’s the biggest challenge of all — letting my wife and other family members care for me, cook the special healthy and healing meals, along with taking on many of the everyday activities that have in the past fallen to me. So, one of the most valuable lesson from Suffiency and Reciprocity is that I don’t have to do everything.This body has carried me for 77 years. It carried a five-year-old boy chasing after his first dog, a young man through veterinary school, a veterinarian through thousands of appointments, a writer through more books than I once imagined writing, a grandfather crawling around with Logan and Piper, a gardener hauling compost, and, just a few months ago, an apparently delusional 77-year-old who still thought body surfing like a teenager was an entirely reasonable birthday activity.Perhaps reciprocity now means asking something other than, How quickly can I get this body working properly again so I can get back to my life?Maybe the better question is:You’ve carried me a very long way. What do you need from me now?I’m discovering that receiving rest, care, expertise, nourishment, patience and even an afternoon in which I accomplish absolutely nothing may not be interruptions to living my purpose.They may be what makes living that purpose sustainable.Stewardship: Caring for This Little Piece of EarthAnd that brings me to Stewardship: We are here to care for the Earth and each other, because we are all one.I’ve usually heard that sentence with my attention directed outward. Care for the soil. Care for the animals. Care for the forests and oceans. Care for my family, neighbors and community. Care about what kind of world Logan and Piper will inherit.But if Interconnectedness is really true—if I am nature—there’s a rather obvious member of the web I’ve been leaving off that list.Me.That doesn’t mean self-absorption. In fact, I’m beginning to see it almost as the opposite. If I hope to keep writing, coaching, loving my family, tending this little half-acre experiment we call the Loving Homestead and contributing in whatever small way I can to a regenerative future, then caring for the human being doing those things is part of my stewardship.There’s something wonderfully ironic about that. I’ve been learning regenerative practices for the land around our home: don’t continually extract without replenishing; feed the soil; observe before intervening; work with natural processes rather than constantly fighting them; allow exhausted areas time to recover.Maybe the caretaker could learn something from the garden.Regenerating the RegeneratorI don’t know yet where this health journey is taking me. That’s probably one of the harder things for me to admit. I like answers. I like plans. Give me a problem and part of me immediately wants to research it, understand it and start fixing it.But perhaps this particular moment is asking something different of me.For quite some time now, part of my morning One Cause practice has included a question I borrowed from my fellow Eco-Guardian Manda Scott:What is the web of life asking from me today?I’ve usually imagined that question pointing outward. What can I contribute today? What needs tending? Where can I make a difference?Lately I’m hearing another possibility.Perhaps sometimes the web of life is asking me to write. Sometimes it’s asking me to work in the garden, coach someone who is struggling to bring their story into the world, spend time with Ann, or follow Logan and Piper down to the creek and try to see what they see.And sometimes perhaps the web of life is saying, Brad, you’re part of this too.Rest.Receive.Pay attention.Heal as you are able.I am slowly returning now—to my writing, to the Loving Homestead, to Gaia’s Call and even to a limited amount of Write On Purpose Coaching. But I’m trying not to make “getting back to normal” the goal. I’m not convinced the way I was living before this happened is necessarily the way I want to return.Perhaps I can do less and experience more. Perhaps I can contribute without continually depleting myself. Perhaps I can become as committed to regenerating the regenerator as I have become to regenerating the little patch of Earth outside my door.I don’t offer any of this as a prescription for whatever you may be going through. Your circumstances may be entirely different from mine. You may be dealing with illness, grief, financial uncertainty, a troubled relationship, concern for someone you love, or simply the exhaustion that can come from being a human being during these extraordinary times. I certainly don’t have a Four-Great-Truth formula that makes those things disappear.What I can offer is the inquiry that’s helping me.What might change if, just for a moment, you looked at whatever you’re facing through these four lenses? Where might Interconnectedness reveal a relationship you haven’t noticed? Where might Sufficiency invite you to reconsider what is enough? Where might Reciprocity ask you to receive as well as give? And what—including yourself—might Stewardship be asking you to tend with greater care?We’re each traveling this miraculous, sometimes bewildering journey called life in our own way. And yet perhaps that’s one of life’s great paradoxes: none of us is traveling it alone. Your story and mine are unfolding within families, communities, ecosystems, and ultimately within the same extraordinary web of life.I don’t know precisely what comes next for me. I’m learning to be okay with that—or at least a little more okay with it than I was yesterday.For now, I’m coming back slowly. Purposefully. Listening a little more carefully.And tomorrow morning, I’ll ask again:What is the web of life asking from me today?Then I’ll do my best to listen. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

GAIA’S CALL 2.0Reader-Friendly Podcast TranscriptGuest: ErinCo-hosts: Brad Swift and Marla LiseEditor’s note: This transcript has been lightly edited for readability while preserving the substance, sequence, and conversational character of the recorded discussion. Timestamps are retained so readers can follow along with the podcast.[00:00:03]Hello, everybody. This is Brad Swift with Gaia’s Call 2.0, and I’m so excited to be here with my co-host today, Marla of the Eco Chapter. And we have a special guest, which we often do, and I’m very excited about that. So excited that I was able, even easily, as it turned out, to get up early in the morning. So you may see It looks kind of like the sun’s coming up. Well, it is kind of coming up here on the North Carolina coast. So, let’s just dive right in, Marla. Introduce our guest, if you would. Yeah. Thanks, everybody, for joining us today. And yes, we have Erin, and I’ve known Erin for a couple of years and, excited to have her on the show. So, Erin is Sydney-based, and she’s a researcher, writer, wife, and mother to three children.[00:00:51]She began her career in business working in national account management for Nestle, Unilever and L’Oreal. And then she took a break to raise her children. And then she became aware of the ecological crisis and has pivoted her career to raise awareness of these issues and what we can do about them. She’s the co-creator of Beyond Duality, which is an eight week online course, which goes beyond sustainability as usual to see what we can do to create an ecological future and how we can do that. Erin is also passionate about animal rights, whole food, plant-based eating, and is currently working on a course to raise awareness of the harms of industrial animal agriculture. So I’ve been really lucky to do a couple of courses with Erin. I did her Project Tipping Point course a couple of years ago,[00:01:36]and I’ve also done her Healthy Habits Accelerator twice, twice actually. So, so Erin, why don’t you start by Maybe telling us what was the biggest push to get you to pivot from that very corporate career in business to what you’re doing now? Firstly, thanks for having me on the show. I’m really happy to be here with you both. What was the push? I think there was a little bit of emptiness in the work I was doing anyway. So for 10 years I was a bit like, oh, shouldn’t I be doing something more meaningful than selling more Coffee, margarine, tea, fragrance, whatever. Shouldn’t I be doing something more than making... So L’Oreal’s mostly owned by the wealthiest woman in France, like it’s the family.[00:02:25]Shouldn’t I be doing something more than making her wealthier? So there was an emptiness in the work that I was doing already. But I think it takes stepping away from that work. And we often say this, like it takes a period of illness, a parental leave break, A sabbatical, any sort of break from the system to be able to see it a bit more clearly. And when I was home with my children, which is busy work, but not very often very mindful work, I had some mental space to see more clearly what was going on. And I was able to read more and learn more about what was happening in the world. And what I was learning, I was not liking very much. So when you talk about what was the thing, what was the moment that made you want to pivot your career? I remember it very clearly. My youngest, who is eight this year, she was three months old.[00:03:13]No, she was, I think she was five weeks old. And I was walking up and down my hallway just here, like trying to get her to sleep. I was wearing her. And as I was trying to get her to sleep, I was reading an article published by the New York Times Magazine, I think. And it was titled, The UN Says Climate Genocide is Coming. Actually, it’s worse than that. And it was written by David Wallace-Wells, who’s written The Uninhabitable Earth, which is a Difficult read, but probably important read. And it was written just after the IPCC released the special report into 1.5 degrees of warming in 2018. And it was just, just everything that was coming through. I was like, it’s so much worse than I realized. Like I really thought there was the Paris Agreement that had been signed and governments were doing something, but it was, it was,[00:03:59]I was horrified, but I was reading and I was like, you know, like I’d be waiting for the toaster a week later and I’d be like, Like you think about what you did in your head and you’re like, how is everyone just living like normally? Like this is horrifying. And I had another friend who’d passed the article on to me, which instigated me reading it. And she felt the same way. So between us, like we wanted to do something, but we didn’t know what it looked like. And, you know, everyone has these sorts of conversations. How can we be part of the solution? And we never ended up building anything, but it never left me that drive to do something. Sorry, I dabbled in working in carbon offsets, but it didn’t feel meaningful enough. So I’ve just kept trying to find something that ticks that box of this is going to help make a difference.[00:04:45]And, you know, there’s only so much one person can do. I don’t know how, you know, the idea that I can make a real difference is probably... If I get stuck on that, I won’t do anything because there’s probably nothing I can do that will make a significant difference. But still, I think the metric is if lots of people were doing this, would it make a difference? Yes. Then I keep going and I try and bring more people along with me so that eventually we hopefully do make that difference that we all aspire to. That was a long-winded way of telling you how I got here. Sorry. That’s good. I think many of us can relate to that path. Yeah. Yeah. Just that, like, I don’t want to, I don’t want to close my eyes to this. I don’t, I want to continue to look at it face on as terrifying as it is and do something[00:05:35]about it. Yeah. Yeah. So it seems you’ve done a lot already. I mean, you’ve done like university lectures and you’ve also done like all these courses and I guess your, your latest course is called Beyond Duality. Do you want to tell us about that? Yeah, I’d done a couple of courses. I think I’ve been doing maybe for the last three years. I started with Rebiz, which was like more related to how a business could exist in a non-harmful, regenerative, sustainable way. So that was very business orientated. And from there we did Project Tipping Point, which you’ve done with us. We did that for a couple of years. And then I was like, I was hosting Project Tipping Point calls, which is all about social tipping points and how I can contribute to them and how they can I was wanting to talk about other things on the calls for Project Tipping Point,[00:06:23]so I had this desire to talk about imperialism and colonialism and manufactured consent and all of these things that are bigger than the Project Tipping Point course was about. So I had this idea to create the course, like if I was to get hit by a bus tomorrow, Beyond Duality is the course that passes on the knowledge that I’ve acquired in eight years since I read that David Wallace Wells article. So it’s just, it’s the culmination of everything that I’ve learnt and would, you know, if I, those eight years ago, if I could have taken this eight week course, I would have saved myself a lot of work because it’s just, it’s all there in one place and it just takes you on the journey of A lot of stuff. I remember starting my climate journey going, all right, carbon dioxide, let’s go.[00:07:12]And then you go, oh, there’s eight other planetary boundaries, damn it. And like we’re transgressing six of them and it’s the seventh being climate. So we’re transgressing seven, but one of them I already knew of. So, oh, no, it’s worse than I thought. It’s not just climate change, it’s biodiversity loss and it’s So then you start to go like it’s bigger and bigger and bigger. And, it’s sort of helping people cut out years and years worth of learning and just get straight to the heart of the problem. Yeah. Yeah. And how have people been reacting to this so far? It sounds like it would terrify quite a lot of people, right? Yeah. So we’ve had like genuinely a couple of hundred people sign up and, far it’s all been very positive,[00:07:58]but there is a stage after about the second week where people go, literally people go, does it get more positive? I feel so anxious. Like I really like the course and the resources, but it’s making me feel a bit unsettled. It’s like totally, it gets better from us. So, like there is like a necessarily you have to take people through the world as it is today and how we got here and what that looks like. And then we do it does it gets better. We take people on a journey that is hopefully more positive and more action orientated and solutions based than just highlighting the problem. But I do very carefully never word people’s experiences having enjoyed the course because I don’t think it’s something you enjoy. I think it’s something that might resonate with you or you might find powerful or compelling.[00:08:47]But I don’t think it’s something you necessarily enjoy because the subject matter is not an easy one. It’s an important one, but it’s not, you know, it’s not. Oh, has anyone ever used the word? I’m so happy that you’ve got a new hobby or like that sort of tone with you about like being active in this space. No, I’m passionate. I’m so glad you found something you’re passionate about. Like if this is not something you do because it’s like fun and cool, like it’s not playing the guitar, it tends to be a moral imperative that we feel like we have to help because we’re in a state of crisis and chaos. So, this is not playing the guitar as such. This is just something people feel like they want to be a part of the solution and putting themselves forward for. Yeah.[00:09:32]I mean, me and Brad both work in this space, so it’s not fun. I mean, you’re definitely doing it, not for s***s and giggles. I’m so glad you found something you’re passionate about. Why aren’t you passionate about it? You should be too. Yeah, exactly. Come and join me. Yeah, I mean, it’s a difficult conversation to have with most people and most people just don’t want to have those difficult conversations and that’s the part that we have to keep pushing for it because otherwise who’s going to have any of these conversations? Sorry, just one thing before you step into Brad. Roger Hallam, you guys know who he is? Founder of Extinction Rebellion and Just Stop Oil and that sort of thing. He cited some research that said like it’s never been a majority of the population[00:10:17]that have been changemakers. It’s always a small percent. And it was learning that was like, oh, okay. Like it’s never, everyone’s never going to step up. It’s a certain type of personality that wants to. To do this stuff. And it’s so, you know, that’s just who we are, I guess, those personality types. Sorry, Brad. And I guess that’s also a good thing because, you know, in the social tipping point, they said, what, 25%? That was the University of Pennsylvania, I think, that did this study. And, it’s like, if there’s three of us here right now, we just need one more person. And, you know, like that would become a normal behavior and 25% would be one of us. Yeah. So it kind of makes the big problem kind of small because if you could just talk to three people and that would be, That would be your responsibility. You know, it wouldn’t have to be like you had to change the world.[00:11:02]Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, absolutely. I think for myself, the part that’s kind of the counterpoint to the confrontational aspect of this is to balance that with a vision for what you see is possible and how to kind of hone that vision in your current reality to some small degree. You know, one of the things that keeps me inspired and relatively sane in the midst of all this is focusing on[00:11:48]My two grandkids who just this past weekend moved right up there. They start waking up any moment, might start hearing some sounds from them. But, you know, Logan’s five and Piper’s three. And all the whatever it takes to give them some hope and future is what keeps me excited about it. And like I said, kind of counterbalance that. You know, the massive confrontation that it can be when we really see how asleep we as a society have been. So I think vision is an important counterbalance to it. Yeah, absolutely. And I do want to mention while I got the podium here.[00:12:35]Yeah. My family has been in a massive amount of breakdown since the move. And, much so that we finally looked up the old saying, Mercury is in retrograde if things aren’t going right. And actually, Mercury is in retrograde right now. So I don’t know where you guys are in, but my end, we’re getting some, and that’s not our, I’ll blame it on Mercury. Just wanted to put that in. So I guess with both of you, well, Brad’s grandkids and Erin, you have three kids, right? So I guess,[00:13:21]how do we talk to people with parents and educators and carers of the youth and children? A lot of people are now not having children because they say that the world is becoming too scary of a place. So with both of you, how do you I guess with Erin, how do you talk to people who have kids and yourself? How do you navigate this conversation also with you? Yeah. I don’t always do that, actually. I find that People don’t want to know. So I don’t necessarily have conversations with people that are in my life face to face.[00:14:07]So I would use a platform like LinkedIn or not so much X anymore, but like that’s where I try and use my voice because it seems to be more received. And, that’s, yeah. And there’d be people that I know in my day to day life that follow me there, but I do find that Like it goes, it’s a real spectrum of, yeah, it’s a big problem, but it’s just not on my radar to, yeah, is it even real? Oh my God, yes, it’s real. You know, like people are obviously taking in different media to me and the bridge to, is that, am I saying it right? The bridge, the gap to bridge, sorry, is too big. It’s so enormous that I can’t bridge it.[00:14:55]I think it’s important that you, like I still, so I’m thinking specifically of people I see in my day-to-day life. I still have to have relationships with these people. I can’t exist in, none of us is an island, I can’t exist in isolation. So sometimes you just, you don’t have anyone around you who’s climate focused. I do have climate focused social groups and friends. But, for me, I write articles, which I have on, Substack and I use LinkedIn to try and reach more people because otherwise I would actually feel like I’m banging my head against a brick wall. I think I would have stopped a long time ago if I had to rely on the people in my circle. Yeah. So what I would say to people is if you don’t have anyone around you, try and find your crew.[00:15:45]And it could just be like a WhatsApp group. Like I had a WhatsApp group or typing signal or something for a number of years, which was such a savior. Like it was, oh, these people get it. Oh, these people care. And they were sharing information and I was learning from them. And otherwise, so there’s a real in the sociology of or like the research into social tipping points, they say that if you’re not insulated from the dominant culture somehow by a group of like minded people, It would be very easy and often does happen that people fall back into that dominant culture because you don’t have anyone helping you maintain these new values and behaviours and things. So that’s what that signal group did to me for a long time to help me stay in this space. So for other people who don’t have people also interested in keeping[00:16:33]the planet habitable around them, see if you can find some because it will make your life easier. Yeah. Well, if you’re looking for communities to join, all three of us have our own communities. We all write articles. I post them on LinkedIn as well. And we just formed a community in Sri Lanka and we have one in Singapore. And Brad has his eco stories and his community in North Carolina as well. So if you guys are looking for Sydney, Singapore, Sri Lanka, North Carolina, we’re all here. Well, most of the world covered. Yeah, exactly. Between us. We’ve got, we’re uncovering an important missing is like,[00:17:22]how do you introduce the crisis, even just one segment of it, like, you know, climate change, way that people that So I don’t know if either you have a social gathering where that doesn’t feel threatened to that gathering itself. We’re losing you a little bit, Brad, but I think I can take this one. So in Singapore, I mean, for me, it’s been really hard.[00:18:16]Like Erin said, like, you know, banging your head against the wall. That’s definitely been, you know, what I’ve been facing. And actually, when I did the project tipping course that Erin designed a couple of years ago, I was like, oh, my God, this is my tribe. You know, I’m still really good friends with so many people in that space. And that really helped me through that first year in corporate sustainability in Singapore, which I hated. But then I also set up the community because I felt like I needed it. So it’s been one and a half years that we’ve been doing these monthly meetups very informally at an alfresco bar in Singapore. And it’s really based around questions with the poly crisis. So introducing every week, every month, a new topic where people come together in an informal setting,[00:19:04]outside of the suit, outside of the like, what do you do? Here’s my name card, business card. Have a drink together, sit down, talk about family and friends, and then talk about, hey, how does creativity solve the polycrisis? Or how does a post-colonial world look like? And just really getting people to share those stories and taking that business corporate suit out of the conversation and really kind of focusing on needs and that this is affecting everybody and building that community around that. Yeah. I’m not sure if that answers your question, Brad. I didn’t really hear you very well. Yeah. Okay. So, I mean, going back to like the sustainability conversation,[00:19:50]like when, when I was working as a sustainability manager in 2023, like for me, that was quite strange because I come from a conservation background and, you know, Erin, you talk about this sustainability as usual business as usual. Yeah, sustainability as usual is things we can do that make sure the current system just continues. So, it’s a lot of what we call sustainability, but it really, it doesn’t change anything. So it makes people feel good, like we’re doing something. But actually we’re not doing very much. And, we can continue to do all of the industrial activity that was going[00:20:38]to happen anyway, essentially. And as you talk about corporate sustainability, like a lot of corporate sustainability is enabling some of the most harmful activities to continue because there’s a sustainability department, they must be doing something about it. But actually, you know, a lot of the work that they’re doing is ESG reporting and things like that. And ESG reporting is It’s trying to determine the impact of the external environment on the company, not the impact of the company on the external environment. And if you care about the environment, that’s a pretty key difference. Like it’s single materiality. How is the environment affecting The company’s like outlook, financial outlook, risk, all of those things. So, you know,[00:21:24]it’s not designed to stop a company from harming the environment or social outcomes or anything like that. It’s literally not designed for that purpose. And there’s a whole heap of other things that would fall under sustainability as usual. It’s like trying to value nature is another way to continue this financialization of everything, commodification of things, putting things like to be able to put... So the financialization of nature is when I heard about this through a book I read called The Value of a Whale and they literally Trying to think about which institution did it. The World Bank, I think. They valued humpback whales at two million US dollars each.[00:22:13]And the reason they did that is because when that whale dies, Two reasons, the tourism that the whales can generate from people I presume going to look at them and then when the whale dies they drop to the bottom of the ocean floor and they take a whole heap of carbon with them so now they’re sequestering carbon and you can value the whale because of that. And it’s like, that’s mad. Like, are you joking that’s what we’re doing to these beautiful animals who to them, their life is invaluable? Of course, like our lives are invaluable to us. And like just this idea that we could just put, so someone just pays $2 million and now we can kill the whale? I don’t know. It’s just crazy. So, you know, valuing nature is another one of them.[00:22:59]This idea of circular economy, like I’m not saying circular economy is not part of the solution. Obviously, we should be reusing as much as we can, but you can’t do that in a growth-based system. You can’t do that where your energy can’t be recycled. You know, if you’re burning coal, how is that becoming circular? Or if your solar panels have a 25-year lifespan on them. There’s so many elements of the economy that exist today that can’t be circular. Food. How do you make food properly circular? It’s a part of the solution, but it’s not the entire solution. It has to be incorporated into something like degrowth or something like that where it’s working with other elements of the economy to scale back our activity rather than just be thrown in there.[00:23:46]And let the growth economy keep going, because that’s what ultimately most businesses want to do, to keep growing. Yeah. I mean, the sad thing is that all the sustainability policies are based on financial models and accounting, which doesn’t work in a natural world. And, you know, they’re just putting band-aids on. And I write a lot about that in my Substack as well. You know, the idea that sustainability is a hoax and ultimately was designed by the financial industry where you’re looking at very linear, infinite growth in a finite planet of finite resources. Yeah. And the sad thing as well is that people in the sustainability industry are also not conservationists and not environmentalists. They’re probably from PR, sales, marketing, a very financial accounting background. And then you’re using these financial human-made models in a natural system where[00:24:34]that doesn’t work. And also looking at things very fragmented and very siloed rather than systems thinking and holistic design. You know, cradle to cradle or the cradle to the grave and things like that. I mean, these are things that really, really need to completely be overhauled in order to properly make change. Yeah, yeah. And something I love to remember and remind people of is that there’s no such thing as a sustainable business in an unsustainable system. So it really has to be systemic change. It’s not going to happen at an organizational level. It has to, like, we have to enable people to live good lives without Everyone having to have a corporate job because everyone needing to work in corporate is creating all this activity and production that we don’t need just[00:25:20]so everyone can to work. The whole system needs an overhaul and it’s not going to happen just by corporations adopting sustainability metrics. It’s just, it’s not enough. Yeah. And it’s also getting people to start to think of what a better future narrative would look like, right? Like decoupled from monetary gain and financial wealth and stuff and self-consuming. And, I mean, the nice thing was like, Erin actually wrote the endorsement for our book, Dreams of Unwritten Futures, where we’re really trying to get that out into the world that, you know, reciprocity, community, living together in sufficiency and, you know, those kinds of values are still what people want ultimately at the end of the day when you scrape off that suit and the money and the You know, constant rat race. People just want to have, like, you know, nice times to do hobbies,[00:26:06]you know, to be passionate about things, to spend time with your kids and your family and read a book under a tree, you know, go to the beach, you know, and stuff like that. There’s this book written by a palliative care nurse and it’s called The Five Regrets of the Dying. And like literally regret number one, might be two, I could be wrong, is that people wish they didn’t work so much because they get on their deathbed. They are on their deathbed. I don’t know how they got there. And they just look back and think, what was I doing? You know, I should have used my time to do something different. I should have spent it with my loved ones. I should have learned guitar. I should have helped make a better future for my grandkids. Any of those things, but they were working because at the time, I guess that’s what they felt like they should be doing.[00:26:49]But with the benefit of hindsight, they don’t always feel that way. Yeah. I mean, that’s good that you’ve done Beyond Duality because you said, wait, now you can die in peace. Yeah, if I get hit by a bus, it’s all out there guys. If I get hit by a bus, something’s sus though, right? Touching wood, touch wood. There’s not even any buses around here. There should be more buses around here though. So in the conscious of time, yeah, I guess because our, most of our audience is like, you know, educators and parents and youth and People associated with the next generation, like what kind of advice would you leave our listeners?[00:27:36]Oh, good question. I think more people should be curious. I reckon if more people were curious, then they would like delve into more topics and that would make them dive into another topic and then they’d be learning and asking questions and I learned this fact that I just find fascinating is that between 1970 and like 1996, people from the U.S. gained six hours of more free time each week. Do you know what people did with that six hours of more free time each week? They used it to watch TV. You know like there’s a lot there’s just so much of our time goes to Netflix and Amazon Prime and I don’t know like just watching TV and YouTube Shorts[00:28:24]and I think if we could take that time and read a book or have a conversation or read the news I just think we could learn more and who knows where that might take you then you know like you I just feel like I’m not saying never watch TV and, you know, have some time out from busy schedules and all that sort of thing, but do it as well as taking the time out to read and learn and converse and, that would be my advice. Right. Yeah. And if you guys are looking for things to read, I mean, author yourself. We’re all kind of addicted to learning and we’re constantly learning new things and putting new stuff out there and trying to rephrase stuff and make it[00:29:11]a little bit easier for anyone. So Brad, anything you want to end with? Yeah, I’m just saying to keep on the idea of curiosity, get more curious. About what’s your relationship to the web of life? And, you know, we talk about it as nature, but, you know, I’ve started thinking of it more as the web of life, which includes all this greenery we’re seeing behind here. Get curious about that. Take a walk out in nature and see if you can’t discover something you have not discovered. Yeah.[00:29:57]Absolutely. And what can you learn about it? And even just watching it fills you with awe and wonder, like, you know, and that fills you with reverence and wanting to be a part of bigger things. So that’s wonderful advice. There’s a really good book by David Haskell and it’s called The Forest Unseen. He literally draws like a quadrant in the backyard of his house and calls it a mandala and he watches it for a year. And it’s amazing. He managed to write a whole book about this thick, about just this quadrant in the backyard of his house. So the amount of things that went on there, the changing of seasons, the different animals, all the different animals that also came to visit, the different flora and fauna. It’s so amazing. So that’s a really good book to start if you don’t know where to start.[00:30:43]Yeah, sounds incredible. Well, thank you very much, Erin, for your time. It was really nice to hear, you know, what you’re doing and to catch up with you again. It’s been a few months. Yeah. And for anyone who wants to join Erin’s course, Beyond Duality, we’ll put the link in the post. Yeah. And I think you have a new season coming up in September, right? Yes. Summer of September is the next one. So, yeah. That’d be a good one to join for anyone who’s keen to learn more. Or I think it’s beyondduality.org. If you want to see the syllabus or brochure or anything like that. Thank you for having me. I’m on LinkedIn. Yeah, I’m on LinkedIn as well. It’s been really fun. Enjoy your day Brad. You’ve got a full day ahead of you now. Thank you.[00:31:28]Now you’re up nice and early so you have the whole day. Thank you. Bye guys. Thanks so much. See you later. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Tomorrow, the United States celebrates the 250th anniversary of its independence. Two hundred and fifty years is no small thing. By any measure, it is a remarkable milestone in the life of a nation, especially one born from a bold and imperfect experiment in freedom.And yet, as I sit here listening to the pounding upstairs from the Loving Homestead renovations the day before this historic July 4th, I find myself strangely unable to simply join the celebration.Not because I don’t love this country but because I do so very much. I’m so grateful that the forces of life allowed me to be born in Weymouth, MA a little over seventy-seven years ago. I do not take that bit of kismet for granted. That distinction matters to me. This is not intended as a political article, even though politics is the language many of us have been trained to use when we talk about the state of our nation. Politics matters, of course. Policies matter. Elections matter. Leadership matters. But beneath the politics, there is something deeper: the stories we live inside, the assumptions we rarely question, the values we embody, and the future we are either consciously creating or unconsciously drifting toward.Lately, as part of my morning One Cause vow, I’ve begun asking a simple question: What is the web of life asking from me today? This morning, that question did not lead me to an answer so much as a deeper inquiry. What does it mean to honor Independence Day when so much in our national life (and consequently our world) feels fractured, fearful, and off course? What does it mean to love a country without pretending it is well? What does it mean to grieve the direction we seem to be heading while still refusing to surrender the possibility of something better?I don’t feel at home in either of the easy camps. I cannot celebrate blindly, waving a flag as though all is well. But neither do I want to become one more voice shouting into the great national storm, convinced that outrage alone is a contribution. I know people who seem to think patriotism means defending everything America does. I know others who seem to think honesty requires condemning everything America has been. Neither feels whole to me.A nation, like a family, can be deeply loved and deeply troubled at the same time.Two hundred and fifty years ago, courageous and complicated people declared independence from a distant king. That declaration was visionary and incomplete, inspiring and flawed, liberating for some while excluding many others. It’s been a work-in-progress ever since. The American story has always carried both promise and contradiction. Perhaps every human story does. What matters now, at least to me, is not whether we can polish the past until it shines or condemn it until nothing remains. What matters is whether we can tell the truth about where we are and still choose who we are becoming. Let me rephrase that as a question:Can we tell the truth about where we are and still choose who we are becoming?And that brings me to the possibility that maybe this particular Independence Day is inviting us into a new kind of declaration—not independence from another nation, but independence from the assumptions that have brought us to this moment.For starters, let me suggest a few. * How about independence from the belief that we are separate from one another and from the living Earth. * Independence from the story that more is always better. * Independence from the illusion that Earth’s resources are endless and ours to consume without consequence. * Independence from the hope that technology alone will save us from the deeper transformation we are avoiding.In the language of One Cause, maybe this is a moment to begin freeing ourselves from the Four Great Untruths and recommitting ourselves to the Four Great Truths: Interconnectedness, Sufficiency, Reciprocity, and Stewardship. Not as political slogans. Not as ideology. Not as something to argue about online. But as ways of being we practice in our families, our neighborhoods, our communities, and our relationship with the living world.When I look at Logan and Piper, this all becomes much less abstract. They don’t wake up asking whether the world is red or blue. They notice worms, flowers, birds, puddles, berries, bugs, and whether the adults around them feel safe and loving. They are learning, every day, what kind of world this is by watching how we live inside it. And I find myself wondering: What version of “normal” are we handing them?Perhaps a new patriotism is being asked of us now. Not the patriotism of certainty or superiority, but the patriotism of stewardship. The kind that loves a country enough to help it mature. The kind that tells the truth without bitterness. The kind that plants trees, repairs relationships, protects children, tends soil, welcomes neighbors, and asks what freedom is actually for.Because freedom is not only freedom from.It is freedom for.Freedom for compassion. Freedom for responsibility. Freedom for service. Freedom for the long, humble work of becoming better humans, parents, and ancestors. Freedom to participate in the healing of a world that is not separate from us, and never has been.So tomorrow, I may still watch fireworks though probably just listen to them from the distance as I try to calm my two canine companions. I may still feel gratitude for the many blessings this country has made possible in my own life. And I may also feel sadness, concern, and grief for how far we still have to go.Both can be true.Maybe that is what maturity asks of us—to hold love and grief in the same heart without collapsing into denial or despair.This Independence Day, I’m not sure I can celebrate in the old way. But I can recommit. I can recommit to living as though the web of life is real, sacred, and asking something of me. I can recommit to my family, my community, and this small patch of Earth we call the Loving Homestead. I can recommit to the future Logan and Piper deserve.And perhaps that is celebration enough.This weekend, maybe the question is not simply, “What are we free from?” Maybe the deeper question is, “What are we free to become?”If this exploration of freedom and independence calls to you I invite you to become a free or paid subscriber. Let’s continue to explore these topics together This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Check out Nate's interview of Rob Hopkins at https://drive.google.com/file/d/1lspKl7pjUtz3WQDy9To8qp4-gRBpOTsJ/view?usp=sharing This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Over the next few weeks, I’d like to invite you into an exploration of an idea that has been quietly growing in importance for me. It sits at the intersection of my work as an author, my role as a grandfather, my One Cause experiment, my Write On Purpose Coaching practice, and my growing conviction that stories may matter far more than most of us realize.The idea is called Thrutopia.Subscribe for the Thrutopia SeriesIf that word is new to you, don’t worry. A few months ago it was new to me too. In this first article, I don’t want to explain Thrutopia so much as explore why it matters. Why stories matter. Why imagination matters. And why the future we create together may depend upon the stories we choose to tell ourselves and each other.Let me begin with a simple story.A few weeks ago, I was spending time outdoors with my grandkids, five-year-old Logan and three-year-old Piper. We were in the backyard where there’s a fantastic playground set up that has been the site for many of our adventures. This day was no exceptions. One moment we were climbing the ropes of a pirate’s ship, the next we were on a spaceship flying to Mars. Then, in the blinking of an eye we were dragon riders. To Logan and Piper, these weren’t merely games. They were possibilities. They were rehearsals for who they might might someday become.Watching these two beautiful children, I was reminded that long before children learn facts, they learn stories. Long before they understand economics, politics, or climate science, they begin constructing an understanding of how the world works through narrative. Who are the good guys? Who are the bad guys? What happens when challenges arise? Can ordinary people make a difference? Is the future something to fear or something to help create?One of our favorite shows to watch with Logan and Piper these days is Bluey. On the surface, it’s a delightful animated series about a family of Australian dogs (already a winner in my book). But beneath the humor and playful adventures are stories about imagination, kindness, resilience, creativity, friendship, and the importance of family and community. Episode after episode, children are quietly absorbing messages about what it means to be human—and perhaps just as importantly, adults are too.Stories answer those questions long before logic does. They help children—and grownups—develop an internal map of reality. They shape what we believe is possible, what we expect from others, and what kind of future we imagine ourselves inhabiting.What Stories Shaped You?I’d love to hear from you. What book, movie, television show, teacher, coach, or family story most shaped how you see the world today? Share in the comments.And then it struck me. Maybe adults aren’t all that different.Most people assume the future is created by politicians, corporations, technological breakthroughs, and economic forces. Certainly those things matter. But I’m not so sure that’s where the future begins.I think the future begins in imagination.One Cause is my ongoing exploration of the deeper narratives shaping humanity’s relationship with nature—and how we can create a regenerative future together.Before every nation, there was an idea. Before every movement, there was a story. Before every invention, there was someone who imagined something that didn’t yet exist. The Wright brothers imagined human flight. Martin Luther King Jr. imagined a different America. Jane Goodall imagined a different relationship between humans and the natural world. Every meaningful change begins twice: first in imagination and then in reality. Stories are the bridge between those two worlds.The more I’ve reflected on this, the more I’ve begun to see that many of the challenges we face today are not simply political, environmental, or economic. They are also narrative challenges. We are living amid what many people call the polycrisis—a convergence of climate disruption, political polarization, technological upheaval, economic uncertainty, social fragmentation, and a growing crisis of meaning. Yet beneath all of these challenges lies a deeper question:What story are we telling ourselves about who we are and where we’re headed?Because the dominant story many people seem to be living inside right now goes something like this: the world is broken, human beings are the problem (or at least those ‘other’ human beings who don’t agree with me), everything is getting worse, and the future is something to fear.If we’re honest, much of our entertainment reinforces exactly that narrative. Turn on the television, scroll through streaming services, or browse the bestseller shelves. Dystopian futures are everywhere. Civilizations collapse. Artificial intelligence takes over. The environment falls apart. Communities disintegrate. People betray one another. To be clear, I understand why these stories resonate. I’ve written a few of my own including The Stars Beckon, Babble and Rabble. They often contain important warnings. They can help us see dangers we might otherwise ignore. But warnings alone rarely inspire transformation.As I recently learned during a Gaia’s Call 2.0 conversation with author Manda Scott, people don’t change simply because they’re frightened. They change when they can imagine something worth moving toward. That insight landed deeply for me because when I look around,I don’t see a shortage of warnings.I see a shortage of compelling visions.I see a shortage of believable pathways toward a future people actually want to inhabit. I see a shortage of stories that tell the truth without surrendering hope.And perhaps that’s one reason so many people feel stuck. Human beings can endure remarkable hardship when they can see meaning, purpose, and possibility on the other side. Without that, fear easily becomes paralysis. This is where I find myself increasingly drawn to the idea that writers, artists, musicians, filmmakers, teachers, podcasters, and other creatives have a larger role to play than we often realize. Yes, creatives like you and I.Not because creatives possess all the answers. Lord knows I don’t. The deeper I dive into the polycrisis, the more aware I become of how much I don’t know. But perhaps our role has never been to provide answers. Perhaps our role is to expand what people can imagine.After all, before we can build a different future, we must first be able to see it.That realization has been quietly changing how I think about storytelling, about my own fiction, about Gaia’s Call, about One Cause, and even about the conversations I have with Logan and Piper. It has also led me to a fascinating question:Why is it that so many of our stories about the future seem trapped between two extremes?On one side, we find dystopias—stories that warn us where our current path may lead. On the other side, we find utopias—visions of a perfected future that often feel disconnected from the messy reality of getting there. One leaves us frightened. The other can leave us skeptical. Yet it seems to me there ought to be another possibility.What if there were stories courageous enough to tell the truth about the challenges we face while also helping us imagine realistic pathways toward a world we would actually want our grandchildren to inherit? What if stories could help us move beyond both blind optimism and doom-filled pessimism?That question led me to discover a growing movement known as Thrutopia. And it may turn out to be one of the most important storytelling movements of our time.In preparation for next week’s article, I’d like to invite you into a simple experiment.Pay attention to the stories you encounter over the coming days. The books you read. The movies and television shows you watch. The news you consume. The conversations you have with family and friends. As you do, ask yourself:What future is this story inviting me into?Is it inviting me toward fear or possibility? Toward helplessness (as in learned helplessness) or agency? Toward isolation or connection? Toward resignation or participation? You don’t need to judge the answers. Simply notice them. Because once you begin paying attention, you may discover that stories are shaping far more of your worldview than you previously realized. In fact, they may be shaping your expectations of the future itself.And that brings us to where we’ll begin next week.We’ll explore Thrutopia—what it is, where it came from, and why an increasing number of writers, thinkers, and changemakers believe it offers something our culture desperately needs right now: stories that tell the truth about where we are while illuminating believable pathways toward where we might yet go.Until then, pay attention to the stories.They may be shaping the future more than any of us realize.If this article sparked something in you, please share it with a fellow reader, writer, teacher, parent, grandparent, or changemaker. Stories spread one conversation at a time.An Update on Write On Purpose CoachingSince selling my small animal veterinary practice in 1989, I’ve been on a joyful adventure that has blended two lifelong passions: writing and transformational coaching.A few years ago, I brought those passions together through Write On Purpose Coaching, helping aspiring and emerging authors move from “one day” to “today.” Then, in late 2024, I took a hiatus from coaching to focus on my own writing—including much of what many of you have been reading here on Substack.Today, I’m excited to announce that I’m returning to Write On Purpose Coaching.Over the years, I’ve discovered that most people don’t struggle because they lack talent. They struggle because they lack clarity, confidence, accountability, or simply someone who believes in them before they fully believe in themselves.That’s why I continue to offer complimentary Creative Clarity Sessions.Whether you have an idea for a book, a manuscript gathering dust, or a completed draft that’s waiting for its next step, this conversation is designed to help you move forward.You’ll leave with:* Greater clarity about your book and the deeper purpose behind it.* A practical roadmap for what comes next.* Renewed momentum and confidence to move your writing—and perhaps your life—forward.One of my clients described me as “the person you want to have your back.” Another said our work together helped her become not only a better writer, but a deeper and more authentic human being.Those words mean a lot because they capture what Write On Purpose is really about.Yes, we write books.But we also author our lives.And sometimes the very thing standing between us and the book we’re meant to write is a conversation that helps us see what is possible.If you’ve been carrying a book inside you for months, years, or even decades, consider this your invitation.The world doesn’t need more unfinished manuscripts hidden away in drawers and hard drives. It needs your story. Your wisdom. Your experience. Your unique voice.Don’t let your book die within you.Instead, let’s explore what’s possible together.To schedule a complimentary Creative Clarity Session, visit: www.wbradfordswift.com/coachI’d be honored to have your back and support you on your Write On Purpose journey. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

In Part One of this series, we explored how the stories running in our minds shape what we believe is possible. If the narrative we carry says the future is doomed and nothing we do matters, our most likely response will be withdrawal, anxiety, or quiet resignation. But when we step back and notice that those stories are interpretations rather than inevitabilities, we begin to reclaim a small but powerful space of freedom. We can choose which stories we continue feeding and which ones we begin to question.Follow the series and stay connectedIn Part Two, we looked at something equally important: the science of motivation. Research suggests that people rarely change because someone else tells them what they should do. In fact, that approach often creates resistance. What truly motivates people is discovering their own reasons for caring and acting. When we reconnect with something we love—a river we grew up near, a forest trail that shaped our childhood, a garden we tend with our hands—the desire to protect life arises naturally.What’s one place or relationship that makes you care more deeply about the Earth?Join the conversation with others exploring this pathTaken together, these two insights point toward something quietly revolutionary. If we change the stories we carry and reconnect with our own motivations for protecting life, the possibility of meaningful action begins to open. But there is still one question that many people understandably ask when they look at the scale of the challenges before us:What difference could one person—or one family—really make?This is where one of my favorite metaphors enters the picture.The architect and systems thinker Buckminster Fuller used the term trimtab to describe a very small device attached to the rudder of a large ship. When the trimtab moves, it creates a small change in pressure that helps turn the much larger rudder. Once the rudder begins to turn, the entire ship slowly changes direction. In other words, a relatively tiny input can help shift a much larger system.Fuller loved this metaphor because it illustrated how complex systems often change. Transformation does not always begin with massive force. Sometimes it begins with small, well-placed actions that alter the direction of the whole.Small actions can shift big systems. This might be exactly what someone you love needs to hear.When I think about the ecological challenges facing our planet, the trimtab metaphor feels especially relevant. Many people assume that only governments, corporations, or global agreements have the power to influence the trajectory of the Earth’s future. Those forces certainly matter, but history repeatedly shows that cultural change often begins elsewhere. It begins with shifts in how ordinary people live, relate, and imagine the world.Over time, enough of those shifts begin to alter the larger system.This is where the Four Great Truths of the One Cause framework come into practical focus. These truths are not abstract philosophical ideas; they are descriptions of how living systems actually function. Interconnection reminds us that life operates through relationships. Sufficiency invites us to reconsider the assumption that endless growth is necessary for human flourishing. Reciprocity reveals that life thrives through balanced exchange. And stewardship invites us to live as participants entrusted with care across generations.When we begin living with these truths in mind, even small choices can become trimtabs for a larger cultural shift.A family plants a pollinator garden in their yard, and suddenly butterflies and bees return. A group of neighbors organizes a repair café, extending the life of everyday objects. A school plants a small food forest where children learn how soil, water, and sunlight collaborate to create life. Someone chooses to support a local farmer, strengthening both community and ecosystem.None of these actions, by themselves, solve the climate crisis. But they begin changing the story of how we live on Earth.In my own life, I see small examples of this almost every day. When Logan and Piper come to visit, we wander through the yard and the small food forest we’ve been nurturing here at the Loving Homestead. What begins as simple curiosity—digging in the soil, noticing worms, watching birds—quietly becomes something deeper. They are not just learning about nature. They are forming relationships with the living world.Moments like that remind me that transformation rarely begins with grand declarations. It begins with relationships—with soil, water, animals, neighbors, and children who still remember how alive the world is.What’s one small action you’ve taken—or could take—that helps life flourish where you live?Leave a comment and reflectEach of us can participate in this shift in ways both large and small. Some will influence systems at scale. Many of us will contribute more quietly—through how we live, how we relate, and how we care.In systems language, these are trimtabs.Small actions that help the larger system turn.If you feel inspired, begin with something simple. Identify a place or relationship that matters deeply to you. Ask yourself: Why does this matter? What would I like to see flourish here? And what small step could I take?You don’t need to solve everything.You only need to begin. Because when enough trimtabs begin to move…The ship begins to turn.As we close this three-part series, I want to return to the simple experiment that began it. The stories we tell shape the possibilities we see. When those stories shift—from despair to responsibility, from separation to relationship—we begin to see new paths forward.In a time when the challenges can feel overwhelming, perhaps the most powerful question we can ask is not:How do we fix everything?But rather:What is one small way I can help life flourish today?That question may sound modest.But history suggests…It is exactly how great turnings begin. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Note: Due to tech issues with our regular recording modality, today’s episode was recorded using Google Meet. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

In Part One of this series, we explored something deceptively simple but profoundly important: much of our suffering—and much of our paralysis in the face of global challenges—comes not from the events themselves but from the interpretations we attach to them. If the story running in our minds says the future is doomed (or some similar disempowering story), the most likely result is despair. If the story says nothing we do matters, the most likely result is inaction. These stories we carry around as though they are true quietly shape and limit the possibilities we see.But changing the story in our minds is only the first step. The next question is just as important—and perhaps even more challenging:How do we actually change our behavior?Thanks for reading Unleashed - W. Bradford Swift! This post is public so feel free to share it.If we’re honest, most of us already know what we “should” be doing in many areas of life. We know we should eat better, move our bodies more often, spend less time staring at screens, and perhaps spend more time caring for the natural world that sustains us. Yet knowing what we should do and actually doing it are often two very different things. Information alone rarely changes behavior. If it did, the internet would have already solved most of humanity’s problems. (And yes, some might say such a wealth of information has only served to make matters worse, but that discussion we’ll save for another day.)For many years I assumed that motivating people—including myself—worked in a fairly straightforward way. You explain the problem clearly, you explain why it matters, and then you encourage people to do the right thing. In other words, we tell people what they should do and then we try to persuade them that it’s important. Psychologists sometimes call this the “tell and sell” approach. It sounds reasonable enough, but research suggests that it rarely works as well as we think.In fact, something interesting often happens when people are told what they must do. Instead of becoming motivated, they become resistant. There is a well-documented psychological phenomenon called psychological reactance, which describes our deeply human tendency to push back when we feel our autonomy is threatened. The harder someone insists that we adopt a certain behavior, the more our inner sense of independence starts to protest. Even if we might have agreed with the suggestion originally, the feeling of being pushed can make us want to do the opposite.Anyone who has raised children—or remembers being a child—recognizes this dynamic immediately. Tell a young person that they absolutely must clean their room right now, and suddenly cleaning their room becomes the last thing they want to do. Adults are not so different. Study after study has shown that people often avoid actions they are strongly told to take, even when those actions align with their own interests.This insight sits at the heart of a fascinating motivational approach developed by Yale researcher Michael Pantalon in his work on Instant Influence. His research suggests that people are far more likely to change when they hear themselves say why they want to change. In other words, lasting motivation rarely comes from someone else’s arguments. It arises when individuals connect with their own reasons for taking action.The practical implication of this insight is surprisingly simple but powerful. Instead of asking someone why they should change, ask them why they might want to change. That small shift—from “should” to “might”—makes a remarkable difference. It lowers resistance and respects autonomy. Rather than triggering defensiveness, it invites curiosity and reflection.From there, a short sequence of questions can help people uncover their own motivations. One might begin by asking, “Why might you want to make this change?” The next question explores readiness: “On a scale from one to ten, how ready do you feel you are to try this?” Then comes a clever twist: “Why didn’t you choose a lower number?” That question nudges the mind toward the reasons change already matters. From there the conversation moves toward imagining the positive outcomes of change, exploring why those outcomes are meaningful, and finally identifying one small next step.Notice what is happening in this process. No one is being lectured. No one is being pushed. Instead, people are discovering their own motivations, and once those motivations begin to take shape, action often follows naturally.When I first encountered this research, something clicked immediately in relation to the climate crisis and the broader polycrisis we are navigating today. For decades, much of the environmental conversation has relied heavily on the tell-and-sell approach. Scientists present alarming data. Advocates explain why change is necessary. Leaders urge people to adopt more sustainable behaviors. While these efforts are often well-intentioned and factually correct, they can sometimes trigger the very resistance psychological research predicts.If psychological reactance is real—and the evidence suggests it is—then some of our attempts to motivate environmental action may unintentionally produce the opposite result. People do not want to feel pushed or shamed into caring for the planet. They want to feel that their actions arise from their own values and their own sense of meaning.For example, given that my background and training as a veterinarian was science based, it felt natural to talk about and seek out the facts about climate change, but I found that data did little to motivate me or others into action. It wasn’t until Logan (and later Piper) came along that I realized it was time for me to take action to forward the process of creating a regenerative future that would leave them with a planet they would be proud to call their own.So, what do you deeply care about that might inspire you into action to join the ranks of being an Eco-Guardian-In-Training? Why not leave a comment below?This insight suggests a different kind of conversation about the Earth. Instead of telling people what they must do to save the planet, we might begin with a much simpler and more human question: “Why might protecting the natural world matter to you?” For one person, the answer might involve their children or grandchildren as it did for me. For another, it might be the beauty of a nearby forest or river. For someone else, it may be the simple desire to live a meaningful life that contributes to something larger than oneself.Whatever the answer turns out to be, the motivation becomes personal, and personal motivations are powerful.I was reminded of this recently during a conversation with a friend about the state of the world. We talked about climate disruption, political tensions, and the growing sense that many of our systems are under strain. At one point my friend shrugged and said something I hear fairly often these days: “Honestly, it feels like there’s nothing ordinary people can do.”In the past I might have responded by offering examples of practical actions—reducing consumption, supporting regenerative agriculture, planting trees, or restoring local ecosystems. Instead, I tried a different approach. I simply asked, “What do you care most about protecting in the world?”He paused for a moment, thinking. Then he began telling me about a river where he used to fish with his father when he was a boy. That river, it turned out, held some of his most cherished memories. As he spoke, the entire tone of the conversation shifted. We were no longer discussing abstract environmental problems. We were talking about something he loved.From there, it became much easier to imagine what kinds of actions might help protect places like that river. The motivation didn’t come from my arguments. It came from his memories and his sense of connection.This approach aligns beautifully with the deeper philosophy behind the One Cause project. The Great Untruths of modern culture have encouraged us to see the Earth primarily as a backdrop for human activity or a warehouse of resources to extract. The Four Great Truths invite a different perspective: that life is interconnected, that sufficiency is possible, that reciprocity with nature sustains abundance, and that humanity’s role is stewardship rather than domination.Those truths cannot simply be imposed through arguments or ideology. They have to be rediscovered through experience and relationship. When someone reconnects with a river they love, a forest they remember, a garden they tend, or a piece of land they care for, those truths often begin to reveal themselves naturally.If you’re curious to experiment with this idea yourself, try something simple this week. Choose one small action that might support life in some way—something practical and manageable. Perhaps it involves planting a tree, reducing waste, supporting a local farmer, restoring soil in your garden, or spending time tending a small piece of land. Then ask yourself a few gentle questions. Why might I want to do this? On a scale of one to ten, how ready am I to try it? Why didn’t I choose a lower number? Imagine I did this—what positive outcomes might result? Why are those outcomes important to me? And what might be the smallest next step I could take?Notice that none of these questions force action. They simply invite reflection. Yet once our own reasons become visible, action often begins to feel less like an obligation and more like a natural expression of who we are.In the final article of this series, we’ll bring these two insights together. Changing the story in our minds opens the door to possibility. Discovering our own motivations ignites action. Together they can help us become something Buckminster Fuller once described with a beautiful metaphor: trimtabs—small forces capable of helping turn much larger systems. And in a time of planetary transition, the world may need many trimtabs.P.S. — A New Ecosystem & A New ConversationBy the time this podcast episode airs, Ann and I will be with Logan and Piper for a much-needed—and deeply earned—family beach trip. It will be their first time experiencing an entirely new ecosystem in such an immersive way: the rhythms of the ocean, the pull of the tides, the vastness of something both playful and powerful.I have a feeling we’ll all be learning something.Shortly after we return, on Friday, May 29, a new episode of Gaia’s Call 2.0 will go live—one that feels like a natural continuation of everything we’ve been exploring together in this series.Marla (of the Eco-Chapter) and I will be joined by Manda Scott, host of the Accidental Gods podcast, for a conversation that goes right to the heart of this moment:* Why are we in this mess?* What role do our deepest fears and cultural patterns play?* What can one person actually do?* And perhaps most importantly—what role does creativity play in shaping what comes next?Manda speaks powerfully about what she calls “the imagination revolution”—the idea that creativity isn’t optional in times like these… it’s essential. It may, in fact, be the leading edge of change.And as I watch Logan and Piper encounter the ocean for the first time, I’ll be reminded that imagination begins exactly there—in wonder, in relationship, in direct experience with the living world.Be one of the first to hear this powerful conversation on imagination, creativity, and the future we’re shaping together. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Part 1: The Story in Our Heads Is Shaping the WorldHow our interpretations fuel despair—or possibilityNot long ago I was outside in the yard with my grandson Logan, who had discovered something that instantly captured his five-year-old imagination. It was nothing particularly dramatic—just a small worm wriggling through the soil after a rainstorm. But to Logan, it might as well have been a dragon. He crouched down, studying it carefully, narrating what he thought the worm might be thinking and where it might be going. Piper, his little sister, soon joined us, equally fascinated.Watching them, I was reminded of something I think many of us lose as adults. Children don’t just see the world—they relate to it. The worm isn’t an object. It’s a character in the unfolding drama of life. The tree in the yard isn’t scenery; it’s a companion in the landscape of their play. Everything feels alive, meaningful, connected.This moment with my grandchildren reminded me of something we don’t learn from books… we remember it by being alive.How our interpretations fuel despair—or possibilityOver the years I’ve developed a little morning ritual. Coffee in hand and a bowl of fruit in front of me for a few quiet minutes before my wife, Ann, wakes up. Often Rascal—my loyal canine companion—is curled up nearby. The early mountain light filtering through the trees here in the mountains of North Carolina. And if I’m honest, sometimes my mind wanders through the headlines of the world we’re living in: climate disruption, political turmoil, economic uncertainty, wildfires, floods, storms. Many of us feel it now—that sense that something larger than a typical “rough patch in history” is unfolding. I often refer to it as the polycrisis—a convergence of ecological, economic, social, and spiritual disruptions all happening at once.It can be a lot to take in. Some mornings, if I’m not careful, my mind can start telling a story about it all. A story that has become all too familiar. To borrow a phrase from my own childhood: Our world is going to hell in a handbasket. Maybe you’ve heard versions of those stories in your own mind as well.Recently, two articles I happened to read on the same morning stopped me in my tracks. Something about them felt deeply connected—not just to each other, but to the work many of us are trying to do in this time of planetary transition. And it dawned on me that the climate crisis—and the broader polycrisis—may not just be a technological or political challenge. It may also be a story challenge.One of the articles explored something psychologists have been saying for a long time: much of our suffering does not come directly from events themselves, but from the interpretations we attach to them. The Stoic philosopher Epictetus put it bluntly centuries ago: “It’s not things that upset us but our judgments about things.” When something happens in our lives, our minds almost instantly begin constructing a story about what it means. A friend doesn’t text back. A project fails. A troubling news headline appears. The event itself may last seconds, but the story we tell ourselves about it can last for years.Psychologists refer to these internal patterns as schemas—mental frameworks built from past experiences that quietly shape how we see the world and ourselves. Over time those schemas become so familiar that we stop recognizing them as interpretations. They begin to feel like reality itself. Not interpretations, but facts.When it comes to the climate crisis and ecological disruption, I notice a similar dynamic playing out in the collective psyche. The facts are serious. We are destabilizing the climate. We are losing biodiversity. We are drawing down natural systems faster than they regenerate. These realities deserve our full attention. But the interpretation layer often goes much further. It turns into a narrative of inevitability: We’re doomed. It’s too late. Human beings are the problem.Those interpretations can quietly shut down the very thing we need most right now—agency. If the story in our head says nothing matters, why would we act? But what if those interpretations are not the only story available to us?One of the most powerful ideas I’ve encountered over the years comes from Viktor Frankl, the psychiatrist who survived the Nazi concentration camps. He wrote that between stimulus and response there is a space, and in that space lies our power to choose our response. That tiny space may be one of the most important places in the human experience. Because inside that space something extraordinary becomes possible. We can notice the story our mind is telling and decide whether or not we want to keep believing it.The article I read put it another way: our thoughts are powerful, but they are not us. They are simply things our minds produce. Once we recognize that distinction, something begins to loosen. We don’t have to fight every anxious thought that appears. We can simply notice it. Ah…there’s my mind telling the “nothing will change” story again. Then we come back to the present moment—to our breath, our body, and the living world around us.When I step back from the daily news cycle and look at the larger arc of human history, another story begins to come into view. Yes, we are facing unprecedented challenges. But we are also witnessing something else: millions of people waking up to their relationship with the Earth. Young people planting forests. Families restoring soil. Communities creating repair cafés and sharing networks. Scientists, farmers, and Indigenous wisdom keepers working together to regenerate ecosystems.In the language of the One Cause project, we might say that we are slowly rediscovering what I call the Four Great Truths: that life is interconnected, that sufficiency is possible, that reciprocity with nature is essential, and that our role as humans is stewardship rather than domination. These truths do not erase the challenges we face, but they do change the story from doom to responsibility—from despair to participation.Reading those two articles together sparked an idea that I’d like to explore with you over the next few weeks. Because the second article introduced another fascinating insight: if changing the story in our minds is the first step, the next step is understanding how people actually change their behavior. And it turns out the science of motivation is surprisingly counterintuitive. It’s not about telling people what they should do. In fact, the more we push people, the more they resist. Real change tends to happen when people discover their own reasons for acting.This is Part 1 of a 3-part exploration. Part 2 goes into what actually motivates real change—and it might surprise you.That insight will be the focus of Part Two of this series.Together, these two ideas—changing the story in our heads and discovering our deeper motivations—may help unlock something incredibly important for this moment in history. Not just awareness, but action.What story about the world have you noticed running in your own mind lately?Until then, I’d like to invite you into a small experiment. The next time you encounter a troubling news headline or feel anxiety about the state of the world, pause for a moment and ask yourself three simple questions. First: what actually happened? Just the facts. Second: what story is my mind telling about it? And third: is there another interpretation that leaves room for possibility? Not blind optimism—just possibility.If you try this simple experiment, I’d love to hear what you discover.Have you ever caught yourself telling a “nothing will change” story? What helped you shift it—if anything?Because the future we create will depend, in no small part, on the stories we choose to believe—and the actions those stories inspire.In the next article we’ll explore something fascinating: why people almost never change when they’re told what to do, and the surprisingly simple questions that can ignite real motivation—for ourselves, our families, and perhaps even the wider culture.Until then, I’d love to hear from you. What story about the future of our world have you noticed running through your own mind lately? And what might a more life-affirming version of that story look like? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Over the past few years, a curious pattern has begun to emerge in many conversations about meaning and faith. Researchers and commentators—including Jamie Wheal in his discussions with the Home Grown Humans community—have pointed out that in times of instability and uncertainty, many people begin returning to religious traditions they may have previously set aside. In the West, that often means a renewed interest in Christianity.I understand why.When the ground beneath society feels shaky—politically, economically, ecologically—people naturally seek coherence. They seek community. They seek a moral compass and a story large enough to hold suffering. Religious traditions have long provided those anchors.But as I’ve listened to these conversations, I’ve found myself wondering whether we might be looking in the wrong direction—not because Christianity is wrong, but because the search may need to reach further back in our collective memory.My hunch is that we haven’t gone far enough back. Before Christianity. Before modern secularism. Before the idea that the world is mostly made of objects.For tens of thousands of years, human beings lived with a very different understanding of the world: that we exist within a living community of beings—animals, plants, rivers, mountains, winds. Our ancestors did not think of nature as scenery. They experienced it as relationship.Today we often call that worldview animism.Importantly, animism does not have to replace other forms of faith. It isn’t necessarily an either-or proposition. Many people may find ways to hold both perspectives—honoring spiritual traditions while also rediscovering a deeper relational connection with the living Earth. If anything, animism invites us to focus on what many traditions share: reverence, humility, and participation in something larger than ourselves.Where animism differs from much modern spirituality is that it is less about belief and more about relationship. It is embodied. Present-moment. Experiential. You don’t simply believe the world is alive. You participate in its aliveness.Gaia: A Living SystemAround the same time these ideas were beginning to stir in me, I also began listening more closely to the work of scientist James Lovelock and others who developed what is now known as the Gaia hypothesis—the idea that Earth functions as a vast self-regulating system, with life and environment interacting to maintain conditions favorable for life.More recently, Nate Hagens has explored these ideas through his podcast and YouTube channel The Great Simplification, where he helps translate complex ecological and energy realities into language ordinary people can understand.Taken together, these perspectives offer a powerful reframing.If Earth behaves like a self-regulating system—a kind of planetary-scale organism—then communication does not occur through sentences.It occurs through changing conditions.Feedback. Adjustments. Signals embedded in the environment itself.In that light, weather begins to look a little different. Not as punishment. Not as divine anger. Not as random chaos. But as information made experiential. Storms, droughts, floods, heat waves—they bypass ideology and go straight to the nervous system. They remind us, sometimes quite dramatically, that we are not separate observers of the planet. We are participants inside its processes.Living here in the mountains of North Carolina, we’ve felt those reminders firsthand. Tropical Storm Helene. The fire that swept across the hills not long after. And this past winter Gaia spoke again with the winter storm of snow and ice someone decided to name Fern. These events are not “messages from God,” but they are interruptions to the illusion of separateness.They encourage us to pay attention. Several years ago I heard the story about the Universal UPS truck. It goes like this. From time to time, the Universe tries to deliver a package to us within which is an important lesson we are to learn, but like the conventional UPS truck, it’s no big deal if we aren’t home or ready to receive the package. It will just schedule a time to deliver it again. The only real difference with the Universal UPS truck, is that each time it attempts to deliver the packaged lesson to us, it become a bit more deliberate and intentional until eventually it’ll drive its truck through our living room to get our attention.I believe we are at that point today. Do you agree? What are your thoughts on the subject? How about sharing them by clicking the comment button below, or joining the chat?The Deeper Issue Beneath the StormsIf we step back even further, we can see that the storms and climate disruptions we experience today are not isolated events. They are symptoms of a deeper pattern.For roughly the last two hundred years, humanity has been drawing down an enormous storehouse of energy in the form of fossil fuels—coal, oil, and natural gas. These fuels were created through geological processes that unfolded over millions of years. In a sense, they represent a vast savings account of ancient sunlight, stored underground.But rather than treating that inheritance as a finite trust fund, we treated it as an endless supply.The result was an explosion of industrial growth, technological progress, and human population. Much of modern civilization has been built on that energy windfall. Yet this rapid extraction also came with consequences—most notably the rising concentration of carbon dioxide in our atmosphere and the resulting destabilization of climate systems.Here again we encounter one of the central insights of the One Cause framework. For centuries, many of us operated under what I call a Great Untruth: that Earth’s resources are effectively unlimited. But the web of life operates according to a different principle entirely—reciprocity.Take without giving back long enough, and the system begins to respond. Not out of malice. Out of physics. Out of biology. Out of the simple mathematics of living systems.Harm a river long enough and its vitality declines. As vitality declines, scarcity increases. Communities downstream suffer. Care for the river, restore its health, protect its watershed—and abundance often returns. The vitality of the system supports the vitality of the people.Reciprocity is not a spiritual slogan. It is how living systems work.From Resource to RelationshipThis is where the Four Great Truths of the One Cause project come into clearer focus. The Great Untruths teach us to see Earth as backdrop, raw material, or resource. The Great Truths invite us to see Earth as relation—as kin.If we begin from that place, stewardship stops feeling like an obligation imposed from the outside. It becomes something more intimate. Stewardship becomes love across time.The choices we make today ripple outward—to forests we may never see, rivers we may never visit, and grandchildren whose lives will unfold long after we are gone. Seen this way, responding to the climate crisis is not merely a technical challenge.It is a relationship challenge.A Small Daily PracticeYou don’t need to adopt a new belief system to explore this way of relating.You can begin with a simple daily reflection inspired by many Indigenous wisdom traditions that focus on maintaining balance and vitality in the web of life.At the end of each day, pause for a moment and ask yourself three questions:* What did I do today that increased life—in myself, in another person, or in the land around me?* What did I do that may have diminished life, even unintentionally?* What is one small act of repair or care I could offer tomorrow?This practice does not require perfection. Only our attention.Returning to the ConversationMy own journey into these ideas followed a path I didn’t fully recognize at the time.Animals first taught me kinship. The rainforest taught me sacred interconnection. And animism finally gave language to something my life had already been practicing. If we are indeed living through what many now call a polycrisis—a convergence of ecological, economic, political, and spiritual disruptions—then perhaps our task is not simply to solve problems.Perhaps it is to rejoin the conversation with the living world. I’m not asking anyone to adopt animism as an identity. I’m inviting you to experiment with a different relationship to the world—one that feels strangely sane in a time that often feels anything but.And if we listen closely enough, we may discover that the Earth has been speaking all along and we’ve simply haven’t been listening. It’s time to listen deeply.Unleashed - W. Bradford Swift is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thanks for reading Unleashed - W. Bradford Swift! This post is public so feel free to share it. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

There’s a moment that comes—quietly, and then all at once—when a question stops being philosophical and starts becoming practical. For Ann and me, that question is this: What is enough… and what is it for?After 32 years in our home, we are in the midst of a significant transition. We’re moving from 2300 square feet—multiple closets, two walk-in storage areas, and the accumulated contents of three decades—into a one-bedroom, one-bath apartment downstairs, roughly 1000 square feet. And we’re doing it by choice. Not because we have to, but because we want to make space for something that matters more. Our daughter Amber, her husband Justin, and our grandchildren Logan and Piper are planning to move in before the school year begins in August. Which means… we’re making room. Literally.The Outer Work: Letting GoIf you’ve ever lived in a home for 30+ years, you can probably imagine what this process looks like. Closets that quietly filled over time, storage areas that became repositories of “we might need this someday,” and objects that carry stories—some of them easy to release, and some of them surprisingly not. A box of old papers, a tool you haven’t used in years, a random item that somehow feels harder to let go of than it should. And yet, piece by piece, we’re letting go—donating, gifting, sharing (our local Buy Nothing group is about to get very active). With each release, there’s a little more space. Not just in the house, but in us.The Inner Work: Rethinking “More”We live in a culture that quietly—and sometimes loudly—reinforces a simple idea: more is better. More space, more storage, more comfort, more accumulation. But what if that’s not actually true? What if “more” isn’t the goal? What if the deeper question is: what supports life, connection, and meaning? This move is, in many ways, an experiment in that question. We’re not downsizing because we’re forced to; we’re choosing to live with less space and fewer possessions so we can live with more connection.A Living Expression of SufficiencyIn the One Cause framework, one of the Four Great Truths is Sufficiency: there is already—and always—enough when we remember how to share. It’s one thing to write about that. It’s another thing to live it. This transition is giving us the opportunity to do both—to ask what we truly need, what can be shared, what can be released back into the community, and perhaps most importantly, what kind of life we are actually trying to create.The Messy MiddleI won’t pretend this is all graceful and serene. There are moments of overwhelm, moments of second-guessing, and moments of “Why did we keep all this stuff?” 😄 And also… moments of clarity, moments of lightness, and moments where it feels like we’re aligning our lives more closely with what we say matters.Making Room for the FutureLogan and Piper don’t care about square footage. They care about connection—about shared meals, about being together. In a very real sense, this move is about making room for the future. Not just physically, but relationally.An InvitationYou don’t have to move houses to explore this. But you might consider asking: What is “enough” for me right now? What am I holding onto that I no longer need? Where could I make a little more space—for life, for connection, for something new? We’ll keep sharing pieces of this journey along the way, including—quite possibly—a steady stream of items looking for new homes 😄 But more than that, we’re exploring what it means to live into sufficiency. Not as an idea, but as a way of life. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

There are moments in a parent’s life when a conversation shifts from the everyday into something deeper—something that feels like it matters not just for your family, but for the times we’re living in. This was one of those moments.Amber and I were talking—not about anything unusual at first. Just the world as it is right now. The noise. The intensity. The constant stream of headlines and opinions and reactions that can leave even the most grounded among us feeling unsettled. And then she said something that stopped me.Not in fear—in wisdom.She told me that instead of getting pulled into the emotional swings of social media, she’s been trying to step back… to look at what’s happening through the lens of history. To understand this moment not as chaos—but as part of a larger pattern. As a dad, and as someone who has spent much of his life trying to make sense of the deeper patterns of life, I felt a quiet sense of respect. And curiosity. Because that’s exactly the question I’ve been living inside of too.What if what we’re experiencing right now isn’t random? What if it’s not just “things falling apart”? What if it’s part of something that has happened before?That question led us into a conversation about a book I’ve been reading: The Fourth Turning Is Here by Neil Howe. And while the book itself can be a bit dense at times, the core idea is surprisingly simple—and surprisingly powerful. History, it suggests, moves in cycles. Not perfect circles, but rhythms. Like seasons.According to this framework, society tends to move through four “turnings” over the course of roughly 80 to 100 years: a time of stability and building, a time of questioning and awakening, a time of unraveling and fragmentation, and then a time of crisis—a Fourth Turning. A winter. A time when systems break down, tensions rise, and the future feels uncertain. But also a time when something new begins to emerge.If Howe is right—and many historians and observers of history across centuries have sensed that time moves more like a rhythm than a straight line—then we are living in that fourth phase. From Ibn Khaldun’s observations of civilizations rising and falling in cycles, to Arnold Toynbee’s view that societies move through recurring patterns of challenge and response, there has long been an intuition that history has seasons of its own.As Amber and I explored this together, something else began to come into focus. This moment we’re living through isn’t just about “the world.” It’s about who we are in the world—at this moment in time. According to this model, each generation tends to play a different role during these cycles. And suddenly, it felt very personal.My generation—what Howe calls the “Prophet” generation—we are the elders now. The ones who have lived through earlier seasons. The ones who remember, or at least can sense, that these cycles are real. Our role isn’t to control what happens next, and it’s not to rescue. It’s to offer perspective. To help name what’s happening. To remind others—especially our children—that winter, as harsh as it can be, does not last forever.Amber’s generation—the “Hero” generation, those born roughly in the 1980s and 90s—came of age in a time of increasing instability and are now stepping into adulthood during a time of crisis. If this framework holds true, this is the generation that will do the rebuilding. Not alone, but together. They are the ones who will shape the next set of systems, the next culture, the next “normal.” Which means Amber’s instinct—to step back, to look at the bigger picture, to seek understanding rather than reaction—isn’t just wise. It’s exactly what this moment is asking of her.And then there’s Logan. Five years old. Full of curiosity, energy, and that beautiful openness to the world. In Howe’s language, he would be part of what’s called the “Artist” generation—the ones who are born during the crisis but grow up in what comes after. The ones who don’t lead the rebuilding, but inherit it and shape it in quieter, more relational, more creative ways.Just the other day, I watched him crouch down in the yard, completely absorbed in something most of us would have walked right past. A tiny line of ants moving with quiet determination across the soil. He stayed there for several minutes, studying them, asking questions, narrating what he thought they were doing. In that moment, the world wasn’t chaotic or broken—it was alive, fascinating, and worthy of his full attention.Which raises a question that feels very real to me as a grandfather: what kind of world will he grow up into based on what we choose to do now?One of the things I appreciated most about this framework is that it doesn’t try to sugarcoat the difficulty of times like these. Every Fourth Turning in history has included real hardship, conflict, loss, and uncertainty. The American Revolution tore apart loyalties and families even as it gave birth to a new nation. The Civil War brought unimaginable division and loss of life while redefining what that nation would stand for. And the Great Depression and World War II tested an entire generation through economic collapse and global conflict—yet ultimately led to a period of rebuilding and shared purpose. We have been through winters like this before. But it also offers something that feels deeply needed right now: orientation. A way of seeing that helps us move from “everything is falling apart” to “something is changing—and I have a role to play in what comes next.”For me, this conversation with Amber didn’t end with answers. It opened something. A shared way of looking at the world that feels less reactive and more purposeful. Less about surviving the moment, and more about participating in what’s emerging. It also reinforced something I’ve been feeling more and more clearly: the future isn’t something that just happens to us. It’s something that is being shaped right now through how we live, how we relate, and what we choose to build together.If it’s true that we are living in a kind of historical winter, then maybe the question isn’t “How do we get through this as quickly as possible?” Maybe the question is: Who is this time asking us to become?As parents. As grandparents. As citizens. As stewards of this living Earth.And perhaps most importantly: what are we creating now that our children—and our grandchildren—will one day call “normal”?And for Ann and me, that question—what is my role in what comes next?—is no longer theoretical. It’s becoming practical. After more than three decades in our home, we’re in the midst of a significant transition—choosing to move downstairs into a smaller space so that Amber, Justin, and the kids can move into the main home. On the surface, it looks like downsizing. But at a deeper level, it feels like something else entirely. A quiet, imperfect, very human attempt to live into what this moment is asking of us—less accumulation, more connection… less “more,” and more enough. I’ll share more about that journey soon, because in many ways, it feels like our small, personal response to a much larger turning.P.S. I’d love to hear how this lands for you. Does the idea of a “Fourth Turning” help bring clarity to what you’re seeing in the world… or raise new questions? Feel free to share in the comments or join the conversation in the chat. These are times that call for more than opinions—they call for shared reflection and connection. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

If dogs were my first teachers of kinship, the rainforest was my initiation into something far larger.We awoke before dawn to the sound of birds I had never heard before—notes that seemed less like “song” and more like conversation. The air was thick, humid, alive. My fellow travelers from the North— still a bit jet-lagged, but also curious, slightly unsure—gathered near the Amazon River with members of the Sapara community who had graciously welcomed us into their village.The ceremony was simple.Sacred tobacco. Chanting. Leaves brushed gently across our bodies. Murmured words in a language older than my own. The smell of earth and river. The towering trees encircling us like quiet elders.On one level, it was unadorned. No spectacle. No drama.On another level, it blew my mind.I did not merely “appreciate nature” that morning. I experienced being one with it. And especially with the trees.Not in a metaphorical way. Not in a poetic way. In a felt, embodied way that bypassed analysis. It was as if some subtle membrane between “me” and “them” dissolved. The massive trunks around me no longer felt like background scenery. They felt like presences—vast, patient, ancient participants in a shared field of being.It wasn’t that I believed the trees were alive. I experienced aliveness as a shared current. That’s a different territory altogether.Perception as ParticipationLooking back, I realize that moment marked a shift. Before Ecuador, I loved trees. I admired them. I had even planted a few. I cared about forests around me where I live in the North Carolina mountains. After Ecuador, something changed in how I related to my surroundings. It was no longer “I am here, observing nature.” It was “I am inside a living community.”The crisis of meaning so many of us sense today is often framed as a loss of faith. But I’m increasingly convinced it is something deeper: a loss of relationship with thew living world of which we are an inextricable participant—the web of life.In The Spell of the Sensuous, David Abram writes:“For a thousand generations, human beings viewed themselves as part of the wider community of nature, and they carried on active relationships not only with other people but with other animals, plants, and natural objects… How, then, did humans come to sever their ancient reciprocity with the natural world?”That word—reciprocity—landed hard. In that rainforest clearing, I did not feel like an observer of trees. I felt like a participant in a reciprocal exchange of breath, presence, and awareness.This is not doctrine. I am not claiming a cosmology. I am sharing a lived moment that altered me. Interconnectedness ceased being an abstract concept. It became sacred and cellular.From Experience to VowOut of that experience grew something that now forms an essential part of my One Cause Morning Vow:We are here to create life, not destroy it.We of Earth—of Gaia, of Pachamama—may be the only place in the vastness of the universe where the miracle and experiment of life is unfolding.To support that miracle through regeneration is, for me, a sacred act.When I say those words each morning, I am not speaking in metaphor. I am remembering a forest that felt like family.The Four Great Truths shifted from philosophy to practice.Interconnectedness was no longer an idea. It was a felt reality.Sufficiency revealed itself in the forest’s quiet wisdom. Nothing in that rainforest seemed to operate on “more-more-more.” Growth was abundant, yes—but cyclical, balanced, regenerative. Leaves fell. Soil formed. Life fed life without hoarding.Reciprocity became visible in every layer of that ecosystem. Exchange, not extraction. Giving and receiving as the rhythm of survival.I am still learning this sacred rhythm and how to be an active steward of it all.Back home in my garage, I plant seeds in small hydroponic containers and in small recycled containers designed to bring back food from the restaurant. I watch tender shoots push upward toward the light. I harvest greens and enjoy them in my salads. Even there—in that modest act of tending—I feel a whisper of the forest’s lesson: life thrives through relationship.Meaning Recovered Through RelationshipIf our crisis is one of meaning, perhaps it is not because we lack belief. Perhaps it is because we lack participation. The forest did not give me answers to geopolitical instability or climate complexity. It gave me orientation.It reminded me that I am not outside the web of life. I am a thread within it. And threads have responsibility—not because they are commanded to, but because they belong. Meaning, I am discovering, does not come primarily from ideology. It comes from intimacy.A Simple PracticeIf you’re curious to explore this without flying to Ecuador, try something small.For one week, choose a tree near your home. Visit it daily for two minutes. Stand beside it. Notice the light at different times of day. Notice the mood of the air. Notice what shifts in your own thoughts and breath. Imagine, gently, that this tree is a distant cousin rather than a decorative object.Not as superstition. As experiment. Treat the tree like a beloved relative, not scenery.See what happens. I didn’t leave the rainforest with a new religion. I left with a new way of listening. And then I discovered: this way of knowing isn’t new. It’s ancient.And it has a name…which we will explore in our part three of this series. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

I’m not writing this as an expert in animism.I’m writing as someone who, late in life, has discovered that something he has been practicing for more than seventy years actually has a name.Animism.It’s an old word. Older than most religions. Older than most civilizations. And yet it feels strangely fresh to me—as if I’ve simply rediscovered a way of belonging that was always there, waiting patiently under the surface.Before I had language for it, I had a dog.His name was Tiddlywink.I was five years old when he entered my life. A sturdy, loyal sled-pulling hero who changed winter forever. My brother and I would race down the hill on our sled, laughing wildly, and when we reached the bottom, Tiddlywink would pick up the rope in his teeth and pull the sled to the top. Over and over again. We were the envy of every kid on the block, all of whom had to drag their own sleds uphill.But what I remember most isn’t the convenience.It’s the companionship.He wasn’t a “pet” in the ornamental sense. He was family. A presence. A personality. A partner in adventure. There was loyalty in his eyes. Humor. Even what felt like pride in his work.Fast forward seventy years.As I write this, Rascal—my current canine companion—lies sleeping under my desk. His gentle breathing keeps time with the clicking of these keys. The love affair continues.Reflecting on it now, I realize it was that first love affair that had me decide at seven that I wanted more than anything else to become a veterinarian. Thanks, Tiddlywink. It wasn’t that I had some grand strategy, but it felt natural to devote my life to beings I had always experienced as “someone,” not “something.” Over decades of practice, I met thousands of dogs and cats—each with their own temperament, quirks, dignity, and heartbreak.I also witnessed something profound in their human companions.No one believes their dog (or cat) is family.They know.There’s a difference between belief and experience. You can read a book about how to ride a bicycle, memorize the mechanics, understand the physics—and still fall over the moment you climb on. Knowing the mechanics is not the same as riding.In the same way, you don’t believe your dog is part of your family the way you believe a political opinion or a theological claim. You know it because you experience it. You’ve felt the nudge of a nose when you were grieving. You’ve felt the weight of a head on your knee. You’ve watched eyes light up when you walk in the door.That’s not belief. That’s relationship. And this is where animism quietly enters the room.Animism, at its simplest, is the shift from seeing the world as a collection of “things we use” to experiencing it as a community of beings we relate to. It doesn’t require superstition. It doesn’t require abandoning science. It simply asks us to notice that our most meaningful relationships often cross species lines.This is not anti-science.It’s relational perception.When I say my dog is a “who” rather than a “what,” I am not making a scientific claim. I am naming a lived reality. A dog is not a human person—but he is undeniably a personality, a presence, a participant in my life. Rascal is one of my best friends who just happens to walk on four legs rather then two.Over the past year, I’ve taken on what I call the One Cause Vow—to live as though the Four Great Truths are real: Interconnectedness. Sufficiency. Reciprocity. Stewardship.In reflecting on this vow, I realized something that surprised me.I didn’t learn interconnectedness from a textbook. I learned it from a dog who loved to pull my sled. I learned reciprocity from decades of two-way devotion—the simple truth that love is a current, not a possession. I rescued Rascal from the Blue Ridge Humane Society. And in the aftermath of losing my beloved Argos, Rascal rescued me from grief and loneliness. That’s reciprocity in its purest form.And stewardship? Care is the original human technology. Before there were ideologies, before there were institutions, there was the act of tending. Feeding. Healing. Walking. Protecting. Sitting quietly beside another living being simply because they matter.If this is animism, then perhaps many of us have already been animists without knowing it. Perhaps our first doorway into an ancient way of belonging has always been sleeping at our feet. Here’s a small experiment for today.One Who TodayChoose one non-human “who.” It could be your dog. A bird at the feeder. A tree outside your window. For sixty seconds, relate without multitasking. No phone. No agenda. Just presence. Notice what shifts in your nervous system. In your breathing. In your sense of aliveness. You may find that meaning does not arrive as an idea. It arrives as relationship.If animals were my first doorway into kinship, the rainforest blew the door off its hinges. And that’s where we’ll go next.Unleashed - W. Bradford Swift is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

If something looks like a human, sounds like a human, responds like a human — but no one is actually there — what does that do to us?Are we using technology to solve crises… or to avoid feeling them?What happens when systems scale faster than our capacity for care?Is AI neutral — or is it simply revealing what we already value?At what point does innovation become organised abandonment? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

A few weeks ago, Ann and I reopened a conversation that has been quietly circling for years. What if Amber and Justin moved into the upstairs of Loving Homestead… and Ann and I moved downstairs to the ‘mother-in-law’ apartment? Four loving adults. Two extraordinary children. One shared roof. One shared experiment.It feels beautiful. It feels bold. It feels right. And then—as real life tends to do—a wrinkle surfaced. The local school Logan and Piper would attend has a “poor” rating. That word landed heavily. Of course it did. Parents want the best for their children. We all do.And I found myself sitting with a deeper, slightly uncomfortable realization: even if the school had a five-star rating… would it actually be preparing them for the world they are growing into?That question has not left me.The World Our Children Are InheritingWe are living in what many are calling a polycrisis or metacrisis—overlapping ecological, political, economic, technological, and spiritual disruptions. Some call it the Great Collapse. Others call it the Great Turning. And others, including myself, see it as something messier and more mysterious—like what happens inside a chrysalis as a caterpillar transforms into a butterfly.Inside that chrysalis, everything dissolves. Structures break down. It looks like chaos. And yet, imaginal cells begin to organize around a new pattern of being.Perhaps we are living inside such a chrysalis moment. Perhaps our children are not merely inheriting a mess—perhaps we and they are the imaginal cells of what comes next. Whatever language we use, one thing is clear: the world Logan and Piper will inhabit as adults will not look like the world I grew up in. And probably not even like the world their parents grew up in.So the real question isn’t, “Is this school highly rated?” The real question is: What prepares children to steward a changing world?Stewardship Is Not the Same as SuccessMost school ratings measure standardized test scores, reading and math proficiency, graduation rates, and college admissions. Important? Yes. Sufficient? Not even close…not for these times that are before us and that our children are inheriting.Because stewardship requires something deeper.Stewardship is about how we show up in relationship to the Earth, to community, to uncertainty, and to ourselves. It asks not only, “Can you compete?” but “Can you care?” Not only, “Can you achieve?” but “Can you regenerate?”In many ways, our dominant educational model is based on and a reflection of the Great Untruths:* that we are separate from nature,* that more is always better,* that Earth’s resources are unlimited, or* that technology will save us.* But the world our children are stepping into demand a different set of capacities altogether—ones based in and are a reflection of the four Great Truths.What Might Actually Prepare Our Children?As I’ve reflected on this—both as a grandfather and as someone deeply living true to the four Great Truths—a few qualities rise to the top.Emotional resilience. Not the stiff upper lip of suppression, but the ability to feel deeply without being overwhelmed. To face unsettling realities without collapsing into despair. To experience disappointment without losing direction. In a time of disruption, emotional regulation may be more important than algebra.Collaborative skills. The future will not be navigated alone. Climate events, economic shifts, technological upheaval—these are collective challenges. Children who can listen, negotiate, co-create, and repair relationships will be far better equipped than lone high-achievers. Stewardship is relational.Comfort with uncertainty. My generation was largely raised with the promise of predictability: study hard, work hard, retire comfortably. That storyline is fraying. Our children need to become fluent in ambiguity—not paralyzed by not knowing, but energized by exploration. This may be one of the most countercultural capacities of all.Ecological intimacy. To steward something, you must feel connected to it. If nature is merely scenery or resource, stewardship feels optional. But if children grow up planting, composting, repairing, noticing birds, understanding soil… something shifts. They no longer see themselves as separate from nature. They experience interconnection. And that changes everything.Entrepreneurial adaptability. Not hustle culture, but creative agency. The ability to see problems as invitations. To start small initiatives. To experiment and pivot. In a rapidly shifting world, adaptability may matter more than institutional credentials.Inner steadiness. Perhaps the quiet foundation beneath all the others—an anchored sense of self, a moral compass not easily swayed by noise, a capacity to act from values rather than panic. Inner steadiness is cultivated slowly—through modeling, conversation, presence. Not through rankings.The Deeper RealizationAs I’ve wrestled with the school rating question, I’ve had to confront something in myself.Part of me still wants reassurance—a five-star rating, a clear path, a sense that everything will continue more or less as it has. But another part of me knows that no school—highly rated or not—can single-handedly prepare children for this moment in history.Education is ecological.It happens in families, in communities, in gardens, at dinner tables, in moments of failure, in how adults handle disagreement, and in whether we model fear or steadiness.Recently, I created a miniature hydroponic system out of a plastic take-home container so Logan and Piper could watch seeds sprout in real time. Nothing fancy. Just water, light, and patience. But when those first tiny green shoots emerged, their eyes widened. The miracle of growth became immediate, tangible, intimate.That, too, is education.That, too, is stewardship training.And if Ann and I move downstairs while Amber and Justin move upstairs, something extraordinary becomes possible: four adults consciously shaping a micro-culture—one in which the capacities of stewardship are lived daily, not merely discussed.A Shift in the QuestionInstead of asking, “Is this school good enough?” perhaps the better question is:How do we, as parents and grandparents, cultivate the qualities that will allow our children to steward whatever world unfolds? School matters. But it is not destiny. Atmosphere may matter more. Alignment among adults may matter more. Modeling resilience may matter more.Each morning, I renew a vow—to live as if the Four Great Truths are real and trustworthy. To embody interconnectedness, sufficiency, reciprocity, and stewardship—not perfectly, but sincerely. That vow subtly shapes my decisions, my conversations, and the kind of world I’m trying to create within my own home.Because ultimately, our children are watching far more than they are listening.The InvitationI don’t pretend to have the final answer. In fact, one of the most important things our children may learn from us is how to navigate not knowing. But I am increasingly convinced of this:If we raise children who are emotionally resilient, collaborative, comfortable with uncertainty, ecologically intimate, adaptable, and inwardly steady…They will be capable of stewarding a world in transition.Whether the school rating is high or low.Whether the times are calm or turbulent.Whether the future is predictable or entirely new.And perhaps that is the deeper work before us—not simply protecting our children from a changing world, but preparing them to participate in its regeneration.P.S. Here are a few pics of what has taken up much of my time (and had me miss publishing a Substack article on Feb. 20th): This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

In our recent Gaia’s Call 2.0 conversations, Marla and I explored the polycrisis—the overlapping ecological, social, and spiritual challenges shaping our world. In this episode, we go one step deeper, asking a more intimate question: How do we live inside this reality without losing ourselves—or each other? Drawing from the simple yet profound inquiry “Grieve globally. Thrive locally,” we explore how caring deeply for the world does not have to lead to burnout or despair. Instead, when grounded in the Four Great Truths of One Cause—interconnectedness, sufficiency, reciprocity, and stewardship—we discover a way of living that honors grief while still making room for joy, presence, and meaningful action. This is a conversation especially for eco-conscious families navigating how to stay open-hearted, sane, and hopeful in uncertain times. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

The other night, Ann and I were having dinner with Amber and Justin (daughter and son-in-law). The kids were nearby—Logan and Piper laughing, moving, playing the way only young children can, fully inhabiting the moment. It was one of those evenings that feels quietly complete. Nothing spectacular. Nothing missing.And yet, somewhere between passing food and watching the kids, a familiar question rose up in me.Is this a moment to say something?To check in with the adults about what they’re seeing… or not seeing… about the world we’re living in?To ask whether they’re aware of the polycrisis—or where they might be in relationship to it?Just as quickly, another voice answered back.Don’t ruin this.Don’t turn a good night into a heavy one.Why bring global grief into a room full of local joy?I noticed myself holding the tension rather than resolving it. And I realized: this wasn’t just a family moment. It was a microcosm of a much larger question many of us are quietly carrying.To share—or not to share—the reality of the polycrisis with the people we love.And if we do share… when?How?To what end?I don’t have clean answers. But I’m no longer convinced that not having answers is a failure.The Question Beneath the QuestionOn the surface, this looks like a communication dilemma. But underneath it lives something deeper.We are living through a time of undeniable global grief: ecological unraveling, political instability, widening inequality, accelerating technological disruption, and the quiet erosion of shared meaning. Many of us feel it in our bodies long before we can articulate it.At the same time, life keeps happening locally. Children grow. Gardens need tending. Meals are shared. Laughter still breaks through.So the real question becomes:How do we grieve globally without abandoning the small, sacred forms of thriving that make life worth living?And just as importantly:How do we invite others into this awareness without overwhelming them—or ourselves?Taking the Question to CommunityRather than answer this alone, I did something that increasingly feels essential in this time: I brought the question to community.I shared this inquiry—nearly as raw as I’ve written it here—with members of the Home Grown Human community, an online gathering of people already aware of the polycrisis and committed to supporting one another through it. (If you’re curious, I’ll share a link at the end.)I didn’t ask for advice. I asked for lived wisdom.What came back wasn’t a single answer—but a constellation of insights that now live inside this piece.What I Heard (and What Shifted in Me)One recurring theme was attunement.Not every truth belongs in every moment. Timing matters. Tone matters. Relationship matters more than content.Several people shared that when conversations about the polycrisis go wrong, it’s often because of what Jamie Wheal aptly named “therapeutic aggression”—when we speak not because it’s what the other person is ready for, but because we need relief from carrying the truth alone.That landed hard for me.It made me ask:Am I sharing to serve the relationship… or to unburden myself?Another insight that stayed with me: presence is not avoidance.Laughter, play, ordinary love—these are not denials of reality. Sometimes they are the most honest responses available. Especially with children. Especially when nervous systems are already overloaded.One community member put it simply: staying connected is more important than being right.And yet—silence isn’t always care either.A few people spoke about how sharing, when done gently and incrementally, can actually deepen connection—if it’s rooted in curiosity rather than persuasion, and grounded in evidence rather than opinion. Not to convince, but to invite.Still others described choosing a third path: placing the “hard information” somewhere accessible—writing, podcasts, Substack essays—and trusting loved ones to engage if and when they’re ready.That, too, felt like wisdom.Where This Is Still Hard for MeThere are days when global grief overwhelms me—when the scale of suffering makes local thriving feel insufficient, even indulgent. When playing pickleball, tending soil, or planning the spring garden feels almost naïve in the face of what’s unraveling.And yet, I’ve come to see something else.Thriving locally is not a distraction from collapse.It is resistance to the forces that want us frozen, despairing, and disconnected.When I walk in the woods.When I sit with Logan and Piper.When Ann and I share a quiet meal.When I call a friend for tea instead of doomscrolling.I’m not turning away from grief—I’m metabolizing it.This is what “Grieve Globally, Thrive Locally” has begun to mean for me.Not an answer.A practice.Releasing the Savior ReflexOne of the most important shifts I’m making as we move into 2026 is releasing a familiar but exhausting pattern: the need—or addiction—to save the world.I’m not abandoning responsibility.I’m relinquishing grandiosity.I can still share One Cause here on Substack.I can still participate in the Great Turning amid the Great Simplification.But I no longer need to carry the illusion that it all rests on my shoulders.This mantra gives me something far more sustainable.It invites me to pause throughout the day and ask:* How am I doing with my grieving?* How am I doing with my thriving?* Which one needs attention right now?Sometimes the answer is tears.Sometimes it’s laughter.Sometimes it’s silence.So… To Share or Not to Share?Where I’m landing—for now—is this:There may never be a “perfect” moment.There may always be a shadow when we speak honestly about the world.The question is not how to avoid that shadow—but how to make sure it doesn’t eclipse love, presence, or belonging.If we are facing a kind of terminal diagnosis as a civilization, then perhaps the most important questions become:* How outrageously do I dare to love?* What do I want my children and grandchildren to remember?* How do I live in a way that tells the truth without hardening my heart?And maybe—just maybe—the most powerful form of sharing isn’t explanation at all.It’s how we show up.How we treat the land.How we speak to neighbors.How we hold joy alongside sorrow.No footnotes required.An Open Ending (On Purpose)I’m leaving this unresolved because I believe it’s meant to be.So I’ll offer a few guidepost questions—for you, and for me:* When does sharing deepen connection—and when does it serve something else?* What signals in your body tell you it’s time to speak… or to listen?* How might grieving globally strengthen your capacity to thrive locally?* And who are the people you don’t have to answer this question alone with?A Note of GratitudeI want to thank the Home Grown Human community for helping me think, feel, and write more honestly. Their wisdom is woven throughout this piece—not as answers, but as living questions.If you’re curious about that community, you can find them here: Home Grown Human SkoolAnd if this essay stirred something in you, I’d genuinely love to hear from you—whether in the comments, the chat, or through sharing it with someone you trust.This feels like one of those inquiries we’re not meant to resolve quickly.But perhaps we’re meant to walk it together. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Hello everybody. this is Brad Swift of Gaia’s Call and this is Gaia’s call, but this is 2.0. And as you will notice, it’s not just me, it’s also Marla from the Eco Chapter. Hey Marla.Hi. How are you?I’m good. I’m good. And I’m looking forward to this.And I’m a little trepidatious about it, you know, it’s it is a first, a lot of firsts are coming my way these days. but I’m also excited about it because we’re here. first we’re going to kind of just share our background and how we got connected. also who we’re kind of directing this to, you know, the, the people that we would really like to reach with this.one of the things that we talked about, and may end up, you know, renaming this at some point, but, certainly a segment of this is called, is. Regeneration with capital GE in, because as you can see, we’re not of exactly the [00:01:00] same generation. I’m a couple years older. So there’s some differences.And we actually want to, given the, the nature of the world these days and how much we are, pointing to the, in a bad way, the differences. We wanna embrace the differences. So I’m, white skinned. And Marla is brown skinned and I’m a male and she’s a female, and I live in the mountains of North Carolina and we don’t really know where we might find Marla at any time, but right now you are where?Right now I’m in Singapore.Right?The other side of the world from you.Yes. So right now we are at like nine 40 in the morning here in the North Carolina mountains. And it is what time there?Those are differences. Now, there’s some things that we share, which is, well, certainly first and top most for me would be [00:02:00] our deep love and compassion for planet.And all of its, all of its beings. Not just human beings, but all the beings, the plants and animals that we share this planet with. So, and that’s kind of what has connected us. So, let’s just take a, moment or two Marla, and share, from our own memories, how did, we get connected?Yeah, so hi everyone.My name is Marla, and yes, I’m all the way over here in Singapore. I am an Earthling. I like to call myself that and I run the eco chapter. And the eco chapter is a ecoliteracy and regenerative storytelling consultancy. and the crazy thing is that me and Brad, we met on Substack, through my company, the eco chapter.I write a lot. articles that translate science and complex concepts into easier to digest and more accessible, literature. So articles with metaphors, and I sometimes write poetry. just any kind of way to get the science to [00:03:00] be a little bit easier. And so the nice thing was. read my stories.and it was Brad, so it’s crazy because it was almost exactly a year ago. We met in December, I think 2024. so it’s, yeah, it’s been a journey. Brad, you wanna add anything to, that?Yeah, I, I had a major, revelation, insight, whatever you want to call it. about two days. After the, USA, elections of a year ago when, they did not go the way I wanted, I did not have a whole lot of hope for either party, directing much attention to the, climate crisis, and the crisis that, you know, the climate crisis is a part of.But when, president Trump became president, I got really clear there’s something, something that I’ve gotta do. I’ve gotta up my game, so to speak around that. And, The, other piece that was kind of woven in there at the same time, at that [00:04:00] time, I had a, grandson, three and a half, Logan and Piper, one and a half.So now a year later, four and a half and two and a half. and I, it was on YouTube was where I ran into this thing about. 3:00 AM in the morning and I cannot sleep because my great-great-grandchildren are asking me what did I do? What did I do when I realized the earth was burning and the democracy was falling, and da da die, it goes on beautiful peace.And it woke me up to like, yeah, what will I tell Logan and Piper as they get older? What did I do? And about that time I was reading, you know, I read, a couple of pieces from Marla and thought, wow, this is a real connection there. And I started writing one cause, which is now written and in revision stages.And we’ll be released sometime, hopefully in the first quarter, first half of, 2026. [00:05:00] And it’s my take on. what is the fundamental causes of climate change? That climate change is not a cause, it’s the effect of something. And so, that’s, kind of the evolution. And then, I think somewhere in the mix of that, you, expressed an idea about.Wanting to write a book, a, more positive book of, positive narratives. And given that, one of the things I still do is as a coach. I coach aspiring authors. I was like, I wanna work with this woman. I, wonder how much I’m gonna have to pay her to let me coach her. And you were kind enough to not charge me anything for that.So, that was another piece of it. So why don’t you say just a little bit about, where that went.We had our first meeting in December last year, just around Christmas, I think. And I was so stumped that [00:06:00] somebody on the other side of the world wanted to coach me because, well, obviously had read my articles and thought it would be good for me to write a book.and the crazy thing is like a year later, the book is here. So it’s called Dreams of Unwritten Futures. And this book was actually written by five of us. And, Brad was coaching me and I was editing this book, with a few of my friends. And now, the whole point of it is to have a series of books, and I wanna put it under project called The Better Future Narratives Project, where I found that everything that I was reading in terms of like climate fiction or the news or.science, a lot of it was doom and gloom and, really a post-apocalyptic, chaos. so then my idea was like, how do we then. better stories into the world where we didn’t have to become zombies and eat people’s faces first, before we, started doing better things. and that’s kind of how the idea was born.I wrote an article in October, 2024. And that article [00:07:00] became the spine of this book. And so I sent that article to five friends, who wrote, their parts and their Better Future narratives, which then I compiled into this book and we just got it published in October. So, I think, Brad’s pushing me to write something, really helps, because I had so many ideas already, and it was just that little poke to say, Hey, you’re good enough.Go write. so it’s really exciting. So it’s now I am also writing proposals to bring this, project to schools and, I’m planning like a six months project with kids that they can turn their eco anxiety and feelings of helplessness or depression into more better future narratives and that we can publish more books and, put them out into the world.because I think a lot of people, when they say better future, they just. immediately of money and cars and material wealth and things. but if you talk to lots of people, they’ll tell you those are not the things that make your future better. Yeah, it’s really [00:08:00] simplicity of things. It’s the connection with people.It’s the community. It’s a time to read a really good book and have a coffee undisturbed. It’s those quiet moments at the beach or under a tree. usually with nature or with friends, you know? So that’s the whole point of trying to put these imaginations into, people’s worlds where they can think of better future narratives that are not coupled with material wealth and, and consumerism.Yeah. hopefully kind of change the whole narrative, of a society through through writing.Yeah. Very good. And yeah, I hear again, I hear some other cross, cross connections there. Out of your book has come a, project, you know, and you’re out to reach young, young people and kids.And same here with me. I, you know, in my background, I’ve been writing for about 30, oh gosh, 35 plus years. I have about 30, I think one cause will read my 38th book. [00:09:00] But in the last several years, most of my writing has been in the eco fiction or eco fantasy area. So you can see kind of in the background there, see if I can point to ‘em.These books here are part of the Zach Bates Eco Adventure series. So that was one of the other things is, because of my, I just have such a deep love for Logan and Piper. And a deep love for, kids in general, that’s, you know, those are the generations that we are leaving planet Earth to.And I’ll be honest, I’m not proud of how my generation, the baby boomer generation is leaving the planet. we, and while we’re still, able to, what can we do to. a trim tab, moved this big spaceship earth in a more positive, direction of truly being connected to, nature itself.So from one cause has come, and is [00:10:00] emerging the, eco guardian’s, youth project. And again, it includes, you know. and inspiring children to express themselves through writing and through art. and, helping them to get really in touch with their love of nature, before they get so.Caught up in jagged, you know, adults. We wanna get them early enough to, encourage that natural love for, nature, as, they grow, grow into adulthood itself. So that’s kind of who we’re out to reach. So you wanna say a little bit about our. if somebody’s listening to this, who you could share this with, you know, like that.Yeah. So we’re trying to reach out to anyone who wants to listen, really anyone that’s interested in the eco crises that are happening all over the world, everywhere. sometimes it can be really lonely and also quite. helplessness and, that you have no idea what’s going on. so I guess we’re [00:11:00] also reaching out to educators that don’t have the ability or the, knowledge to share this information with your students.send them our way. We’re both teachers, so happy to help with that. Also to the carers of students and children, parents who are too busy working or also don’t have the, knowledge or the know-how about the climate crisis. Now this would be really great for you too, because it’s a way for you to understand a little bit more.so then you can, kind of comfort your, children and tell them that, you know, with us all working towards this together, it’s all going to be okay. And apart from from the work that we’re doing here on the podcast, I’m also doing as part of the eco chapter, lots of webinars for people who are.working in either small to medium enterprises or school teachers, and also with people doing, like nonprofit work and organizations. So I do like regenerative consultancy for, those groups of people who like maybe need something a little bit [00:12:00] more in depth or specified to your company or organization as well.Yeah, for this podcast, like it’s really for the generations, right? That’s why we’re calling it possibly regeneration, from kids who want to come on the show And talk to us about how you feel, you know, about parents who are drowning in, how do I do this because I’m new parent and I’ve never done this before.Or, teachers who are just hearing stories from your students and, you don’t know what to do. You know, like we’re also very happy to have interviews. with, anyone from around the world. I mean, we’re already in two different continents. Why not? Why stop there,right? Yeah, for sure. And while right now the, eco Guardian Youth Project is primarily local here in the North Carolina Mountains.I do an event, in fact, I did two in the past, week called the Story. story maker event where you come together with small groups of children and we actually help them [00:13:00] understand that storytelling is great fun and story making, actually writing and, composing your own stories can be fun.And so we actually go through and collectively together, create the beginnings of a story and follow that up with the, for those who want to, the eco guardian. writer’s challenge. So all that’s pretty much local right now, but we do want, you know, my, one of my intentions, you know, in 2026 is to find ways to have it be,Scaled so it can be done not just with me, but other people can do it in their local communities, wherever those local communities are. And I see we have another compadre there in the background.So this is rha. And another similarity between me and Brad is Brad just got two kittens. Ah,we do, and, they may be on the show before too long, but right now they’re, acclimating to our own lifestyle here.Yes, for [00:14:00] sure. So obviously we’re both. animal lovers. My background is a small animal veterinarian before I turn to writing. And, and mine is scienceand wildlife conservation.Yes. And, if I’m not careful, I put my feet in the wrong places. I’ll end up stepping on Rascoe, who’s right at my feet sleeping at the moment.So, let’s see, what else did we want to share today as this, introduction that, that we haven’t already shared?I think a few things. If you are a writer, I think the first thing is keep writing because the world needs more stories and more art and put more beautiful, literature into the world.I think we’re, losing that. if you’re someone who feels like you want to come onto the show, please get in touch with either of us. in. we’ll give you ways to contact us, that’s for sure. and also if you are. wanting to come on the show and just wanting to listen.I hope you also know that Yeah. are listening and we’re [00:15:00] here. Like, you don’t have to just write to us if you wanna come onto the show, if you want us to talk about something for you, please send us your, your thoughts or your ideas and or your fears or doubts, and we’ll be happy to make a podcast, especially for that for you.Yes. Yeah. Very good. So, there’s a new word that I’ve come across, We, all know about dystopia. You know, dystopian fiction right now is super popular. I’m not quite sure why it’s become so popular. we’re living in a dystopia, maybe that has part something to do with it. And there’s also the term that most people are familiar with is utopia.You know, kind of almost kind of airy, magical, you know, land. I was just the other day through a podcast was introduced to which is kind of in the middle area. It’s about how do we, in the face of what we’re dealing with. recreate or regenerate a, life thriving, ecology and, planet and, not, you know, not at a [00:16:00] utopian type way, but, you know, some, very specific ways that we can do that.And for and I, part of it is changing the narrative, you know, writing stories that, really do speak to, And not in a way, but in a positive way. Changed that narrative. So again, one cause is a big part of, that for me, you know, identifying the four great untruths and the four great truths.And I’m sure in other podcasts we’ll get into that, you know, in, more depth itself. So, yes. You know, if you are writer, if you have thought about writing on, you know, on, you know, whether it’s, Climate fiction or eco fiction or there’s a number of different, you know, ways of speaking about it. But if that’s something that, you are either doing or you would want to do, we, would love to support you in that as well.Yeah, and Brad has a, whole library, so once you have your books, we can put it up there. you can also [00:17:00] find dreams of Unwritten Futures in Brad’s library.Yes. I’m, glad you, mentioned that ‘cause part of the, eco Guardians, Project that we’re working with is the Eco Guardian Secret Society Library that nobody’s supposed to know about except that just spilled the beans.So I can, you know, blame her for it. But, and again, all of my eco fiction books are. there’s two or three, other books from other authors that I have coached, including book itself. And, there will be a, growing resource of, both fiction and nonfiction and other, you know, pertinent information, to support.Other, eco guardians in training as I like, refer to it. And the reason I call it Eco Guardians in training is we’re all in training. We’re all continuing to deepen our relationship and our appreciation for, Mother Earth. [00:18:00] So, that’s what it is to be an eco guardian. Thank you for sharing that.So I think, covered the, basis to begin with. Yeah. And, any, last comments before we kind of sign off and you go to bed and I go into the rest of my day.I am good. I’m looking forward to our next podcast and, hopefully we get some people writing in to come talk to us.Yes. Very good. Okay, everybody, we’re signing off from Gaia’s Call slash Regeneration. Take care. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Living Through the Polycrisis - This is part three. Part one is here, and part two is here.When I think about the future now, I don’t start with graphs or projections. I start with my grandkids, Logan and Piper. And just as importantly, I start with their parents—Amber and Justin—the generation standing in the narrow, demanding passage between what was and what’s coming.The future stopped being theoretical the moment I held my grandchildren. It took on faces, laughter, scraped knees, curious questions, and a fierce tenderness that refuses abstraction. Whatever the polycrisis is asking of us, it’s no longer an intellectual exercise. It’s personal. It’s relational. It’s generational.And that changes everything.What if the polycrisis isn’t only a breakdown to survive, but a rite of passage for humanity itself?Unleashed - W. Bradford Swift is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Every culture that has understood maturation knows this pattern. There is a time of innocence, a time of testing, a time of confusion and fear, and—if the initiation is met rather than avoided—a time of responsibility and belonging. Adolescence is not optional. It arrives whether we’re ready or not. What is optional is whether we meet it consciously.For most of human history, initiation rites marked the passage from childhood into adulthood. Today, no one is guiding us through that threshold. Instead, the planet itself is doing the initiating. Climate disruption. Ecological loss. Political instability. Technological acceleration. The collapse of old stories that once promised safety and control.This is not happening because humanity is evil. It’s happening because we outgrew a worldview without growing up beyond it.Children feel this moment intuitively. Long before they understand carbon cycles or geopolitics, they sense when the adults in the room are anxious, distracted, or pretending. They feel incoherence in their bodies. They notice when reassurance replaces truth, when busyness replaces presence. Logan and Piper don’t need us to explain the polycrisis—but they do need us to become adults they can trust.And that brings us to the real work of this time.Not prediction.Not perfection.But character, presence, courage, and care.When systems fail, character remains. It’s what children learn when they watch how we treat the land, how we speak to neighbors, how we respond to fear, how we handle grief. Presence matters now because nervous systems learn from nervous systems. Calm isn’t something we explain—it’s something we embody. Courage matters because someone has to tell the truth without collapsing into despair. And care matters because care is the original human technology. Long before money, before markets, before machines, there was care.This is the living heart of One Cause. The Four Great Truths are not abstract principles; they are embodied ways of being that children absorb simply by watching us live.Collapse, seen through this lens, begins to look less like punishment and more like correction. A simplification. An undoing of excess. A quiet insistence that the experiment of domination has reached its limit. In that undoing, something ancient begins to surface again: community, rhythm, humility, interdependence, love.Perhaps Earth is not failing us. Perhaps, in her formidable wisdom, she is calling us home.The Four Great Truths, then, are not just remedies for crisis—they are ancestral gifts. Ways of orienting ourselves that we pass forward not as answers, but as inheritances. Interconnectedness. Sufficiency. Reciprocity. Stewardship. Especially stewardship—no longer as control, but as love across time.We are the ancestors now.What do I hope Logan and Piper will remember?Not that their Grand-Dude wrote books or spoke about crises—but that he showed up. That he paid attention. That he loved fiercely. That he told the truth without bitterness. That he practiced unconditional love as best he could—the kind I see modeled so purely by Rascal and Luna, my canine teachers in unconditional love, presence, and loyalty. That Ann and I faced hard realities without surrendering joy. That we bent without breaking. That we practiced radical hope not as a feeling, but as a set of daily actions.Ann and I don’t pretend to control anything. But we’ve learned something quieter and more powerful: we influence everything. Through shared meals. Through tending land. Through conversations with neighbors. Through choosing to live the Four Great Truths locally rather than panicking globally or retreating into the old untruths when fear rises.The emotional journey of this time is not linear. It moves from grief—because grief is the price of love—into fierce love, into responsibility, and finally into a profound, grounded hope. Not the hope that everything will turn out fine, but the hope that how we show up matters, regardless of outcomes.We may not get to choose the times we live in.But we do have the opportunity to choose how we meet them.With fear—or with love strong enough to influential the future.P.S.As I was recording this piece, I realized there was one more thread I wanted to name—because it’s a living expression of everything I’ve written about here.Over the past few years, Ann and I have been quietly nurturing something called the Eco-Guardian Youth Project. It grew out of the same questions this series is asking: How do we help young people grow up connected to Earth, to community, and to their own sense of purpose—without fear, shame, or despair? And just as importantly: How do we model that way of being ourselves?The Eco-Guardian Youth Project isn’t a program designed to “fix” kids or save the world. It’s an invitation—for families, grandparents, parents, teachers, and young people—to explore the Four Great Truths together through stories, conversations, creativity, and hands-on connection with the living world. It’s about planting seeds of stewardship, courage, and belonging that can grow across generations.If this article resonated with you—especially if you’re thinking about children or young people you love—I invite you to take a gentle look.And if these reflections feel meaningful to you, please consider sharing this piece with someone who might need it right now. That simple act—passing along a story that speaks truth with hope—is one of the quiet ways we influence the future together.I’d also love to hear from you. Your comments, reflections, questions, or even your doubts matter more than you might think. They help shape this ongoing conversation and remind me (and others) that we’re not walking through this moment alone. Feel free to leave a comment below or join the chat if that feels right for you.Thank you for being here—and for caring enough to read, reflect, and stay present in these times. 2026 - a banner year for choosing a new regenerative future. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Living Through the Polycrisis — Part Two of a Three-Part One Cause Reflection (Part One is Here.)Author’s Note: I called an audible over the holidays, feeling like we could all use a break from dealing with this challenging topic—the Polycrisis, here we are in the New Year of 2026 which could, according to many experts, be a make or break year, so let’s dig in. Once you stop trying to outrun the polycrisis, you start asking a different kind of question: What does a good life look like now?By “outrun,” I mean all the ways we try—often unconsciously—to escape what we sense is happening around us. Denying the seriousness of it. Minimizing it. Staying so busy we don’t have time to feel it. Doom-scrolling until we’re numb. Freezing in place because the scale of it feels too big to face. Or pinning our hopes on some distant rescue—technological, political, or economic—so we don’t have to change how we live today. All of these are understandable human responses. They’re not moral failures. They’re coping strategies in a world that’s asking more of us than we were prepared for.But eventually, exhaustion sets in. The running doesn’t work. The distractions lose their power. And in that quiet moment—sometimes gentle, sometimes forced—we begin to wonder whether the real work isn’t escaping the polycrisis at all, but learning how to live inside it with integrity, care, and coherence.That’s where the Four Great Truths come in.In One Cause, I describe them as an alternative worldview to the Four Great Untruths that brought us to the brink. But they’re more than ideas. They’re a lived orientation—a different way of standing in the world. Where the old story told us we are separate, that more is always better, that Earth’s resources are limitless, and that technology will save us, the Four Great Truths offer something quieter and sturdier. They remind us that we are interconnected, that sufficiency is possible, that reciprocity is how life actually works, and that stewardship—not domination—is our true role.This shift isn’t abstract. It doesn’t live in policy papers or distant futures. It shows up in how we live, love, and belong—especially close to home.Regeneration, I’ve come to see, is relational, local, and embodied. It begins not with grand plans to “save the world,” but with small, grounded choices that restore right relationship—with the land beneath our feet, with the people we share our lives with, and with the future generations who will inherit what we leave behind. That’s why collapse, as frightening as it is, can also function as an invitation. Not to panic, but to maturity. Not just to grieve what’s breaking down, but to grow into what’s being asked of us now.For Ann and me, the Loving Homestead has become a kind of living laboratory for this inquiry. Not a solutionist fantasy or a claim that we’ve figured anything out, but a place to practice living differently—more attentively, more humbly, more in rhythm with life. It’s where the Four Great Truths stop being concepts and start becoming habits, conversations, and sometimes uncomfortable mirrors. So, let’s spend a few minutes delving into the Four Great Truth a bit more. Interconnectedness shows up for me most clearly in family and place. Living closer to the land has made it impossible to pretend we’re separate—from soil health, from weather patterns, from the creatures who share this space, or from one another. When I’m gardening with Logan, or watching Piper toddle around the yard with curiosity and wonder, interconnectedness isn’t an idea. It’s a felt sense. Their well-being is bound up with the choices we make now. So is the health of the land that feeds us. Community, too, starts to feel less optional and more essential. Conversations with neighbors, shared concerns, shared meals—these become threads in a larger web we’re re-learning how to tend.Sufficiency has been one of the more challenging truths to live into, precisely because our culture trained us so well in “more.” More productivity. More output. More efficiency. More stuff. Stepping off that treadmill isn’t dramatic; it’s subtle and ongoing. It looks like asking, again and again, What is enough here? Enough work for today. Enough growth for this season. Enough plans. Enough striving. In our household, sufficiency has meant simplifying, slowing down, and letting go of the quiet guilt that says we should always be doing more. It’s been surprisingly freeing—and surprisingly difficult—to trust that there really is enough when we stop racing past it.Reciprocity has deepened my relationship with the Earth itself. Gardening, food forests, basement growing through the winter—these aren’t just projects. They’re exchanges. The soil gives, and we give back. We compost. We pay attention. We learn. We fail. We try again. The same is true in human relationships. Reciprocity reminds me that giving and receiving are not opposites. Accepting help, listening deeply, allowing others to contribute—these are as much a part of a regenerative life as offering time, care, and effort in return.And then there’s Stewardship, which feels increasingly like a calling into elderhood. Not elderhood as age or authority, but as responsibility across time. Caring for what we didn’t create. Making decisions with Logan and Piper in mind, even when they’re not in the room. Supporting Amber and Justin not just as parents, but as partners in navigating an uncertain future. Stewardship reframes the question from “What can I get?” to “What am I here to care for?”—and that shift changes everything.Living this way hasn’t made life simpler in the sense of being easier. But it has made it clearer. The emotional arc, for me, has moved from sobriety—seeing things as they are—into grounding, a sense of belonging, and moments of quiet joy that feel earned rather than manufactured. Joy that comes not from distraction, but from alignment.The Great Turning, if it’s real at all, doesn’t begin in conference halls or sweeping declarations. It begins at home. In how we choose to spend our time. In what we grow. In how we speak to one another. In whether we let collapse harden us into fear—or soften us into care.Living this way doesn’t make us saints or saviors. It makes us something far more needed right now: adults willing to grow up together.In the final piece of this series, I want to look directly at what this moment asks of us across generations—how we love, guide, and show up for the young ones who are already sensing that the world they’re inheriting will be different from the one we were promised. Because in the end, the question isn’t just how we live through the polycrisis, but who we become while doing so.In 2026 Let’s Connect Here on SubstackI’ll be moving into my third year publishing on Substack, it has become an important part of my online home. Just one thing that has been missing for me—more direct communication with you, my dear readers/subscribers. So, this year, how about we change that. Here are a couple way: the Comment Button and the Chat Button.How has this series landed for you? Do you agree that we’re in such a time or not? If so, what ways are you finding to cope with this time? And most important of all, how may I be of more service to you?Unleashed - W. Bradford Swift is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

(Living Through the Polycrisis — Part One)You’re not imagining it. Something fundamental really is breaking down. And if you’ve been sensing that—feeling it in your body, your conversations, your sleep, your worry for the kids and the future—you’re not weak, pessimistic, or “too negative.” You’re paying attention.I don’t remember exactly when I first heard the terms metacrisis or polycrisis. It was probably sometime shortly after I began writing One Cause: Breaking Free from the Four Great Untruths—and Embracing the Truths That Will Shape Our Future. That would put it at about a year ago. At the time, they felt like big, academic words—useful, perhaps, but abstract. What changed wasn’t the vocabulary. It was the realization that the climate crisis, as urgent and terrifying as it is, is only the tip of a much larger iceberg.An important tip. A sharp one. A deadly one. But still not the whole thing.As I dug deeper—reading, listening, following the threads—the picture widened. Climate collapse is intertwined with biodiversity loss, food and water instability, economic fragility, political polarization, authoritarian drift, technological disruption, and a deep spiritual and cultural exhaustion. These aren’t separate problems stacking up neatly on top of one another. They are interconnected systems unraveling together, amplifying each other, cascading in ways that are hard to predict and even harder to control.That’s what people mean when they talk about the polycrisis.The term points to a system-of-systems failure—a convergence of crises so entangled that you can’t fix one without triggering consequences in another. And that, I think, explains why so many people today feel overwhelmed, anxious, numb, frozen, or strangely detached. It’s not because they don’t care. It’s because their nervous systems are trying to process something that doesn’t fit into the tidy problem-solution stories we were taught to expect.Some people are just now beginning to sense this. Others have known it for years. And many—good, thoughtful people—are choosing, consciously or unconsciously, not to look too closely at all. It feels too confronting. Too destabilizing. Too much. So they freeze, like a deer in the headlights, hoping that if they don’t move, the danger might pass.I understand that response. I’ve felt it myself.If you know others who are feeling similarly disoriented, why not share today’s article?A turning point for me came when a good friend introduced me to Sarah Wilson’s TED Talk, How to Respond to Societal Collapse. Watching it was unsettling—and oddly relieving at the same time. Wilson doesn’t sugarcoat what we’re facing. She lays it out plainly: climate deadlines missed, planetary boundaries breached, AI accelerating toward unknown thresholds, nuclear risk intensifying, democracies eroding, authoritarianism rising. Not as isolated headlines, but as a single, tangled reality.What struck me most wasn’t just her analysis. It was her honesty about the emotional terrain. She named something I had been feeling but hadn’t fully articulated: that the deepest distress many of us are experiencing doesn’t come from the bad news itself. It comes from the disconnect between what we sense is true and what we’re allowed—or encouraged—to say out loud.In psychology, that disconnect is called cognitive dissonance. Living in a world that insists everything is basically fine while your gut tells you it’s not creates anxiety, loneliness, and a quiet despair that’s hard to name. But Wilson points to something counterintuitive and deeply important: facing the truth, even when it’s brutal, often brings relief. A strange, grounded relief. A sense of congruence. Of finally being able to breathe honestly.This insight aligns powerfully with the core of One Cause.Let’s band together and move through the polycrisis with grace. Subscribe today.The polycrisis didn’t come out of nowhere. It is the inevitable result of what I’ve come to call the Four Great Untruths—the deep assumptions that have shaped modern culture and driven us to this edge. The belief that we are separate from nature. The belief that more is always better. The belief that Earth’s resources are effectively infinite. And the belief that technology will ultimately save us from the consequences of our own behavior.When these untruths become normalized—woven into our economics, politics, education, and daily habits—they produce exactly the kind of world we’re now living in. A world that is impressively complex, incredibly productive, and profoundly fragile. A world that runs fast, extracts relentlessly, and leaves very little room for pause, presence, or wisdom.No wonder so many people feel exhausted and disoriented. No wonder anxiety and burnout are everywhere. Our inner lives are struggling to keep up with a system that no longer makes sense, even on its own terms.And here’s the paradox that keeps revealing itself to me: naming this reality doesn’t have to lead to despair. In fact, for many of us, it does the opposite. It breaks the spell. It releases us from the exhausting effort of pretending everything is fine. It opens the door to a more honest set of questions.Not, “How do we fix everything?” But, “How do we live well in the truth of where we are?” I invite you to explore this question with me. Join the chat below.That question—quiet, unsettling, and strangely hopeful—is what this three-part series will explore. Not as a manifesto. Not as a doomsday chronicle. But as a grounded reflection on what it means to meet this moment with clarity, courage, and care.In the next piece, we’ll turn toward the Four Great Truths—not as abstract ideals, but as a lived orientation. A way of grounding ourselves, our families, and our communities in something sturdier than denial or panic. And in the final piece, we’ll look at what this moment asks of us across generations—especially in how we love, guide, and show up for the young ones who are already sensing that the world they’re inheriting will be very different from the one we were promised.For now, let this be enough: you’re not imagining it. You’re not broken for feeling it. And you’re not alone in asking what comes next.Sometimes, the most hopeful thing we can do is tell the truth—and stay present long enough to see what grows from there. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

I’ve been setting up a small growing area in my basement these past few weeks—a little winter haven where I can keep veggies going through the cold months and continue my slow but curious experiment with hydroponics. At first, it was all about the task. Get the shelving in. Set up the lights. Hang the timers. Figure out the water flow. Make it efficient. Make it productive. Get it done. And in the middle of it all, I caught myself doing something I’m not proud of: I started beating myself up for not doing it faster — for not carving out more time, for letting “life” get in the way, for not being more… well… attain-y. It’s funny how quickly old habits creep in—even when we think we’ve moved beyond them.Then Amber mentioned that when she picked up four-year-old Logan from preschool, one of the first things he said was, “I really like gardening with Grand-Dude.” That one sentence stopped me cold. Just… stopped me. All at once, the whole project shifted. It was no longer about productivity or efficiency or finishing my to-do list. It became a question: How can this be something we do together? Something he remembers? Something Piper can toddle into? Something that grows more than just vegetables?The Core Distinction: Attainment vs. AttunementWe live in a culture that worships attainment. Do more. Get more. Produce more. Achieve more. Optimize more. Buy more. Follow more. Become more. It’s the air we breathe, and it’s the unspoken scoreboard so many of us learned to keep without ever realizing we were playing a game we didn’t choose. But for all the striving and accumulating and checking boxes, something essential is missing. Attainment is outer-focused. It measures life in metrics and milestones, productivity and performance. It lives in speed, comparison, and acquisition — and because of that, it constantly reinforces the quiet suspicion that we’re behind, not enough, or failing to keep up.Attunement, on the other hand, is inner alignment. It’s the quieter, steadier knowing that rises when we listen rather than react, when we connect rather than compete, when we let life shape us rather than trying to conquer it. Attunement shifts the question from “What can I get done?” to “What is life asking of me in this moment?” or “Who am I becoming through this?” Where attainment pushes, attunement invites. Where attainment strives, attunement senses. Where attainment measures, attunement feels. One is louder; the other truer.Why This Matters NowWe are living in a moment of profound overwhelm — ecological, political, social, and spiritual. Our planetary crisis is not just about carbon, heat, storms, or melting ice; it’s about the worldview that created those problems in the first place. This is exactly what One Cause points to: the Four Great Untruths. The belief that we are separate from nature. The belief that more is always better. The belief that Earth’s resources are infinite. The belief that technology will save us. Attainment culture is simply these untruths made habitual and normalized.We strive because we’re told there isn’t enough. We compare because we believe we’re separate. We extract because we believe nature exists for us to use. And we wait for a technological miracle because we’ve forgotten how to live in right relationship with Earth. Attainment culture isn’t just stressful—it’s unsustainable. It’s a worldview that inevitably leads to burnout on the personal level and collapse on the planetary level. Attunement, however, is the doorway out.Attunement = Living the Four Great TruthsThis is where the One Cause framework becomes a map—not just for saving the world but for saving our own sanity. Attunement naturally expresses the Four Great Truths that we know are the antidote to the metacrisis.Interconnectedness reminds us that we are not separate from nature or each other. When we attune, we feel that truth in our bones—whether through gardening with a child or resting a hand on the living trunk of a tree. Sufficiency tells us that there truly is enough when we slow down and reconnect with the rhythms of life. Attunement softens the grasping and the guilt and opens space for gratitude. Reciprocity reminds us that giving and receiving are part of the same sacred loop. Attunement invites us to give in ways that nourish rather than drain. And Stewardship—perhaps the most profound truth—becomes a natural expression of attunement. When we feel connected and grateful and present, caring for Earth stops being a duty and becomes a joy.Attainment can’t access any of this because it’s too busy pushing. Attunement makes space for the wisdom that’s been waiting for us all along.The Three Dimensions of Attunement (Health, Growth, Depth)Attunement isn’t a single practice; it’s a way of being shaped by three interconnected dimensions. There’s the past-oriented dimension of health—healing old patterns, trauma responses, and reactive habits that keep us locked into striving and scarcity. Then there’s the future-oriented dimension of growth—the part of us reaching toward our potential, our next level of integrity, creativity, and purpose. And finally, there’s the present-oriented dimension of depth—the cultivation of attention, presence, character, and the inner stillness that lets us hear life’s quiet instructions.When we attune across these three dimensions, we become more coherent. More grounded. More wise. More available to the moment. More ourselves.The Obstacles to AttunementOf course, attunement is not the path our culture prepares us for. We live in a world engineered for distraction, speed, stimulation, comparison, and consumption. Our attention is constantly hijacked by devices that measure us, algorithms that shape us, and systems that profit when we stay disconnected from ourselves and each other. On top of that, we carry the old echoes of childhood conditioning, unresolved hurts, and habitual coping strategies that keep us in “go” mode even when our souls are quietly begging us to slow down.This doesn’t make us broken; it makes us human. But it also makes attunement something we must choose on purpose, again and again.The Basement Garden RealizationThis is why the moment with Logan mattered so much. When I heard him say he likes gardening with Grand-Dude, something inside me softened. The basement garden was no longer a task to complete but an invitation to attune—to him, to Piper, to the plants, to the rhythms of nature, and to the deeper truth that life is never asking us to be more productive. Life is asking us to be more present. The project wasn’t about growing vegetables anymore. It was about growing us—our connection, our curiosity, our love for the Earth, and our sense of belonging to something larger than ourselves.That’s the heart of attunement. It turns projects into rituals, tasks into relationships, and to-do lists into opportunities for connection.A Simple InvitationAs you move through your day, notice where attainment takes the wheel. Notice the pressure, the tension, the speed. And then ask yourself, gently: What would attunement look like right now? What would it feel like to slow down, to listen, to connect, to become?Attunement isn’t more work; it’s less. It’s the quiet, sacred pause that allows something wiser to emerge. It’s how regeneration begins—inside us, inside our families, inside our communities, and inside the Earth itself.Let’s keep listening. Let’s keep attuning. And let’s see what wants to grow next.NOTE: This article was inspired by a beautiful conversation between Keith Martin Smith and David Areel which can be found at: or as a podcast at: It is well worth a listen.Unleashed - W. Bradford Swift is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thanks for reading Unleashed - W. Bradford Swift! This post is public so feel free to share it. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

(Part One of a Possible New Series: Conversations Across Time)A few nights ago, during one of our Community After Hours gatherings here in the mountains, a participant tossed out an idea about how we might draw more locals into our growing web of community. I wish I could tell you exactly what he said—but the suggestion itself evaporated before I arrived home.What did stick with me was the spark it ignited.I found myself thinking:What if we could interview notable, difference-making people who are no longer with us…and ask them what they make of the moment we’re living through?Not in a séance kind of way. Not in a “dear departed, knock twice for yes” kind of way. But in a more grounded, imaginative, spiritually curious way:What would the great visionaries of the past say about the in-between time we are living through now—this tension between the Great Turning and the Great Collapse?And before the thought even finished forming, one name rose to the surface—my hero: Buckminster Fuller. His picture sits on my Hero Board. The man who saw the earth as a spaceship before most of us realized it even had a hull. The man who believed fiercely in Humanity’s capacity to evolve into a success rather than a failure.No, I don’t have a direct channel to the afterlife. But I do have a conversation partner named GePeTo—my AI collaborator—who can help me synthesize Bucky’s worldview, writings, tone, and fierce optimism.So I sat down and asked a simple question:“If Buckminster Fuller were alive today, what would he say about the moment we’re in?”Here’s how that conversation unfolded.Four Questions for Bucky Fuller—and the Responses He Might Offer TodayWhat follows isn’t meant to be historical quotation.It’s a synthesis—a creative, integrity-centered imagining based on Bucky’s principles, writings, and unmistakable voice. Call it… Bucky through a modern-day trimtab filter.Bucky, how would you describe the moment we’re living in—this tension between the Great Turning and the Great Collapse?He might say something like this:Humanity has reached a critical point where the assumptions guiding our behavior are no longer adequate for the complexity we’ve created. In a sense, we are running 21st-century planetary-scale hardware on metaphysical software from the 1800s—and the system is flashing warning lights.Whether we move toward the Great Turning or slip into the Great Collapse depends not on resources—which are still abundant—but on whether we update our thinking in time.I’ve always said we’re crew members on Spaceship Earth, not passengers on a luxury liner with infinite buffets. The crisis is not a shortage of materials. It is a shortage of imagination, synergy, and design.In other words: This is a metaphysical crisis before it is an ecological one.(Which, I might add, aligns perfectly with One Cause: the crisis beneath the crisis.)What would you say about the Four Great Untruths—especially the idea that ‘more is always better’?Bucky might respond:The idea that “more” equals “better” has always been a fundamental misunderstanding of wealth. Real wealth is not accumulation—it is the capacity to survive forward days. It’s the ability to meet human needs in a way that increases options rather than reduces them.Nature never operates on excess. Nature operates on sufficiency and synergy.Humanity, on the other hand, still behaves as though it must hoard its way to security. But the Universe is already providing more than enough energy and materials for every person on Earth to thrive—if we align with Nature instead of fighting her.This is where the Four Great Truths come alive. Particularly sufficiency and interconnection. The problem is not scarcity. The problem is human metaphysics—the stories we tell about what we are and what the world is for.What is the role of the outlier—the ‘strange person’—in times like these?This one felt especially personal to me, Brad—given the Strange Man series we just completed. Here’s how Bucky might say it:The future is always initiated by the outliers. Never the majority. The majority follows after the new pattern has proven itself.When I designed the geodesic dome, people laughed. When I talked about doing more with less, it was dismissed as fantasy. When I suggested that humanity could become a success, they called it naïve.But the Universe never asks the past for permission to invent the future. If people find your actions strange, it simply means you’re operating from a more current worldview. Evolution always begins at the edges—with individuals who are one step further into tomorrow.So if you’re the strange person in the room, take heart. You’re the early adopter of the next epoch.Given everything you stood for—synergy, design science, trimtabs—what advice would you give ordinary people who want to help?Here’s where Bucky’s clarity becomes beautifully sharp:Stop trying to save the world by persuading people. You save it by building a new model that renders the old one obsolete. Institutions are expressions of yesterday’s metaphysics. They cannot lead us to tomorrow. What can lead us is demonstration—prototypes, experiments, living laboratories. (Like the Loving Homestead Ann and I started this past year.)Find your trimtab: the small, well-placed action that turns the rudder that turns the ship. One Cause is a trimtab. Your own Loving Homestead coud be a trimtab. Any act that reduces entropy, increases coherence, or honors Earth’s reciprocity is a trimtab.Never underestimate the leverage of one well-placed, consistent action. Small moves—when aligned with universal principles—shift everything.A Closing Reflection(And an Invitation to Continue This “Conversations Across Time” Series)As strange as it may sound, this exercise left me with a deeper sense of hope. What Bucky Fuller offered—and what his imagined words offer now—is a reminder:We are not powerless. We are not late. We are not destined for collapse.We are simply overdue for an upgrade in thinking.And those who are willing to evolve their worldview first—the outliers, the strange ones, the trimtabs among us —are the ones who become the quiet catalysts for the world that wants to be born.So here’s my question to you:Who should we talk with next?Rachel Carson?Martin Luther King Jr.?Wendell Berry?Carl Sagan?Thich Nhat Hanh?Joanna Macy?E.O. Wilson?Or someone from your own Hero Board?Let me know. Because these conversations across time are just beginning.P.S. Speaking of evolving our worldview, Marla Lise and I will soon be releasing a special two-part Gaia’s Calling 2.0 podcast series on the polycrisis—what it really is, how it shows up in our lives, and why it so often fuels both eco-anxiety and apathy. These conversations grow directly out of the same questions Bucky Fuller invites us to ask: What’s breaking down, what’s breaking through, and how do we become the trimtabs steering humanity toward the Great Turning? Stay tuned for their release early in 2026—and if you’d like to be notified when they drop, make sure you’re subscribed to the Gaia’s Calling section of my Substack. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Links to Parts Oneand Two.There comes a moment on any meaningful inner journey when you suddenly realize something quietly radical: you no longer fit the default settings of the culture around you. You still look the same, sound the same, and move through grocery stores, coffee shops, and family gatherings the way everyone else does. But something in your internal operating system has been rewritten. And even though no one can see that shift from the outside, it begins to shape everything you do.Sharing this helps more of the ‘strange ones’ find each other. Thank you for being part of this emerging regenerative story.At first it’s subtle, then steady, then unmistakable—until someone close to you, maybe even your own child, pauses at some small act of yours (like a takeout box filled with coffee grounds by the door) and says, “You are a strange person.” In that moment, if you listen closely, some deeper part of you might whisper back: Yes. I am. And thank God for that.Because as Krishnamurti reminded us, “It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society.” If our culture has normalized disconnection from nature, endless consumption, and an almost religious devotion to convenience, then perhaps strangeness is not a flaw—it’s a sign of sanity emerging.The World Has Never Been Changed by the Comfortable MiddleThe center of culture is where habits sleep, where norms self-replicate, and where the Four Great Untruths feel so familiar, so unquestioned, that they become invisible. The middle is stable, predictable—and by design, inert. The people who shift the world don’t live there.They live on the edges, collecting coffee grounds because soil is sacred, planting food forests where lawns used to be, choosing reciprocity over convenience, and raising children and grandchildren to see Earth not as “resources” but as kin. They live in the quiet places where old assumptions lose their grip and a new story begins to take root.This is the frontier where emerging cultures are born—not through speeches or global summits, but through tiny, repeated acts that seem irrational to the old worldview until suddenly they become common sense.Every New Pattern Starts With One OutlierHistory and nature both tell a similar story: transformation begins with the one who behaves differently long before anyone else understands why. There is always a first strange person—the first to compost instead of discard, the first to conserve water when everyone else lets it run, the first to ask, “What if we treated the Earth as a partner rather than a possession?” These individuals are often misunderstood at first. They’re told they’re impractical, idealistic, or naive. Yet time and again, the very behaviors once dismissed later become the blueprint for what is needed.Slowly, beautifully, the outlier’s strangeness ripples outward. What began as a single point of deviation becomes a signal of the future, a small tremor that precedes a cultural shift.Why Being “Strange” Is a ComplimentTo be “strange” simply means you are living from a different set of assumptions than the dominant culture. Perhaps you’ve internalized a new worldview—something rooted in interconnection, sufficiency, reciprocity, and stewardship—and because of that, your actions no longer match the old script. You compost differently. You shop differently. You speak differently. You see the world through a lens that honors life, not consumption. You feel the Earth in your bones.And yes, you may place coffee grounds in a repurposed takeout box with a sense of reverence that would bewilder most people in a Costco checkout line. But this is what spiritual and ecological evolution looks like in real life: a quiet willingness to act from a deeper truth even when it makes you stand out.The Gift of the Outlier RoleOne of the great misunderstandings is that the outlier is an exception. The truth is the outlier is the beginning. Outliers are pattern-breakers, trend-starters, and early signalers of new cultural DNA. They embody tomorrow’s norms today. It can be lonely at times. People may misunderstand your motives or gently tease your choices. But outliers don’t lead by consensus—they lead by integrity.And in doing so, they create a subtle gravitational field. People—especially the young—feel it. They may not be able to articulate what they’re sensing, but they recognize the authenticity, the groundedness, the coherence. They intuitively know: “This is the direction life is trying to move.”This is how cultures shift—not from the top down, but from the inside out, one quietly courageous person at a time.The New Story Needs Strange PeopleWe are living through a moment when the old stories are collapsing under their own weight:* “We’re separate from nature.”* “More is always better.”* “The Earth’s resources are infinite.”* “Technology will save us.”These are fictions that can no longer sustain us. Meanwhile, the regenerative story—the one Ernesto van Peborgh describes as “the emergence of a regenerative field”—is just beginning to coalesce. It’s forming in pockets, in communities, in backyards, in basements, in small gardens, in homesteads, in writers’ circles, in Earth Listening Circles, and in the imaginal hearts of people who sense that a different way of being is not only possible, but necessary.In these liminal times, strange people serve an essential function: they hold the shape of the future before the future fully exists. They embody practices that seem trivial to the old world but are foundational to the new one. Even something as small as carrying home coffee grounds becomes a quiet ritual of allegiance to a culture that honors reciprocity and regeneration.These acts are seeds, and seeds do their most important work underground, long before anyone sees the sprout.If you want to walk with a community committed to living the new story, you might enjoy all of Gaia’s Call of Unleashed.A Final Invitation to All the Strange OnesIf you’ve been feeling out of step, misunderstood, “too much,” or simply different from the culture around you, here’s an invitation to reframe that experience: you’re not too much—you’re early. Early to the regeneration story. Early to the worldview that sees Earth as a beloved relative. Early to a culture that values meaning over consumption. Early to the way your grandchildren will one day live as naturally as breathing.Strange people change the world not because they try to, but because they don’t abandon the truth that has taken root in them—even when it is still unfashionable. So keep going. Keep tending soil, keep listening to the Earth, keep practicing the Four Great Truths until they shape every gesture and choice. Keep being lovingly, courageously strange.Because the future that’s emerging—the one your actions are quietly helping to midwife—will one day look back with gratitude and recognize that it was the strange ones who held the lantern while the rest of the world was still stumbling in the dark.If this touched something true in you, please share it — the regenerative future grows through small ripples from brave, strange people. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

(Part Two of the “Strange Man” Mini-Series — read Part One Here.)Sometimes the most important spiritual work doesn’t happen on a meditation cushion or in the quiet of early morning vows. Sometimes it happens in a kitchen—with kids playing, coffee brewing, and a grown daughter calling you a “strange man.”If you missed Part One of the story, here’s the short version:I rescued the used coffee grounds from my daughter’s barista-level machine, packed them neatly into an empty takeout box, and placed the box by the door next to my jacket and knapsack—fully intending to take them home to compost and burn for ash to add to my garden.When Amber discovered my little treasure box and asked what it was, I explained. She paused… then declared solemnly: “Dad, you are a strange man.”We laughed. And fortunately, that’s not where the story stayed. Because inside me, another moment unfolded—one I didn’t share in Part One. A moment that mattered even more than the compost or the coffee or the cardboard container.A moment that could’ve easily slipped into the Dreaded Drama Triangle.The Micro-Moment Where Everything Could’ve Gone SidewaysWhen she said “strange man,” the first sensation wasn’t laughter.It was… a pinch. A quick little inner wince. The kind that happens faster than thought. The old, familiar thread: Am I being judged? Mocked? Misunderstood?That is the Victim voice—the first doorway into the Drama Triangle. As a graduate of Landmark World Wide, I also learned it as the “automatic and mechanical.” In that split-second, without any real awareness, I could have shifted into one of the three roles:Victim: “I was just trying to help the planet… why is she making fun of me?”Persecutor: “Well maybe if you composted more… we wouldn’t have so much trash in the first place.”Rescuer: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—I’ll just throw it away next time.”None of these paths lead to connection. None lead to truth, or love, or empowerment. They lead to drama. And drama is a waste stream far more toxic than used coffee grounds.The Pause That Saved the MomentWhat changed everything was one breath.One beat of awareness that said: “Hold on. This isn’t about being judged. This is about being seen.”And that’s when the deeper truth surfaced: Amber wasn’t criticizing me. She was naming what the world hasn’t yet caught up to—the emerging, awkward, beautiful phase between one way of living and the next. My “strangeness” is what it looks like when someone begins living the Four Great Truths in a world still arranged around the Four Great Untruths.In that moment, the entire inner landscape shifted.From Drama to the Empowerment DynamicInstead of slipping into Victimhood, something new rose up—the Creator role from the Empowerment Dynamic. (Check out the book, The Power of TED by David Emerald. )The Creator asks different questions:* “What’s really happening here?”* “What meaning am I adding?”* “Is there a possibility hidden inside this moment?”And the answer was simple, and almost funny:My daughter wasn’t dismissing me. She was witnessing my evolution.She was naming the gap—lovingly—between the culture she was raised in by my wife and I and the one I’m trying to help midwife into existence—a regenerative future based in the Four Great Truths.Suddenly, “strange man” felt… accurate. Even honorable.The Deeper Lesson at 76 (That I Wish I’d Learned at 36)There was a time—decades ago—when a comment like this would have hooked me for hours. I would have replayed it, analyzed it, defended myself, explained myself. I would have tried to earn approval.But living by my One Cause Vow—day after day, breath after breath—has been quietly rewiring my emotional reflexes.The Four Great Truths are not just ecological principles. They are relational principles.* Interconnectedness softens the old defensiveness because it reminds me how deeply interconnected I am with my daughter.* Sufficiency dissolves the need for validation because the ‘enoughness’ includes my relationship with myself.* Reciprocity makes feedback part of the dance; it’s the sharing and receiving of everyday life.* Stewardship reminds me that my job is to model, not persuade.So instead of reacting, I smiled. Because it was true. I am a strange man. A man becoming stranger in all the right ways.Why This Matters in a Time of Cultural UnravelingWe are living through a moment in history when misunderstanding will be rampant. People making conscious, regenerative choices will often look “odd” to a culture still built on extraction, speed, and disposability.This is where the inner game becomes critical. If we collapse into the Drama Triangle every time someone raises an eyebrow at our choices—we’ll waste our energy defending rather than creating.If, instead, we shift into the Empowerment Dynamic, moment by moment—we become steady. Grounded. Available for the real work. Living the Great Truths externally requires practicing them internally and expressing them externally through our words and actions.And that starts in the smallest, most ordinary moments—standing in a kitchen with your daughter…coffee grounds in hand…and an invitation to grow.A Closing Reflection(for you, the reader stepping into your own version of this path)Think of a recent moment when someone questioned, joked about, or didn’t quite “get” one of your emerging values or new behaviors.* Did it sting?* Did you slip into one of the drama roles?* Or was there a pause—a breath—that opened the door to something deeper?These micro-moments are the training ground. They are where the new world gets built—one reclaimed reaction at a time. And if being called “strange” means we’re becoming more aligned with the future we hope our grandchildren inherit…Well then—let us be strange, and let us be steady, and let us be fiercely, tenderly awake.Even in the kitchen.Especially in the kitchen. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Toward the end of a recent visit with my daughter, Amber, and the grandkids—Logan racing a plastic dinosaur across the living room battlefield and Piper dancing around with a squeal that could wake the ancestors—I decided to fix myself a cup of coffee, in part because they have one of those barista-level machines that makes a cup so smooth it practically hums a lullaby. So there I was, savoring the thought of a rare mug of delicious Joe, when the machine politely informed me I needed to empty the grounds receptacle first.Fair enough. I opened the little compartment, scooped out the still-warm grounds, and headed toward the trash can. And that’s when I saw it: an empty cardboard takeout container sitting right on top.Hmm, I thought. That could hold the coffee grounds….One more hmm: And I could bring both home—grounds to compost, container to burn in the wood stove for more ash to eventually make its way into the garden.It was the kind of thought that feels completely normal to me now, a natural extension of my daily rhythm here at the Loving Homestead. So, with the confidence of a man on a mission, I packed the grounds into the takeout box, carried it over, and placed it gently by the door alongside my jacket and knapsack.Job done. No big deal. A tiny act of stewardship—with a side of convenience.Or so I thought.The Strange Man RevealedAbout an hour later, Amber walked by, noticed the box by the door, and stopped in her tracks. She stared at it for a few seconds, the way you’d look at a squirrel holding a flip phone.“What’s this?” she asked.I explained my plan: Take the coffee grounds home, compost them, and burn the cardboard for heat and soil building. Simple. Elegant. Efficient. A win for Earth and a win for Dad.She stared a moment longer before rolling her eyes. Then, with the seriousness of a judge rendering a life verdict, she said:“Dad… you are a strange man.”I chuckled—because it was funny and yes, a bit true. But if I’m honest, there was also a quick flicker of something tender in me, a tiny wince.Strange.Odd.Different.Those words carry some weight, even when delivered with love. But before I could wander down the familiar path of “What did she mean by that?”, something else rose within me. A kind of deeper understanding.And I realized: This “strangeness” is exactly what I’ve been cultivating. On purpose. Let me elaborate.When Strange Is Just the Early Stage of New TruthEver since June 1st, I’ve been saying and meditating on my One Cause Vow every morning. I wrote it not as a declaration of moral superiority (goodness knows that’s not the path I’m on) but as a grounding practice—something to nudge me gently toward the person I’m becoming.Here’s a short piece of it:On this new day, I commit—and recommit—to living in alignment with the Four Great Truths:Interconnectedness.Sufficiency.Reciprocity.Stewardship.I know I won’t be perfect. I expect to stumble, but each step is a chance to remember who I really am—and who I’m becoming.The truth is, my vow has been working on me in subtle and not-so-subtle ways bit mostly in quiet ways. Domestic ways. Ways involving coffee grounds and takeout boxes. I don’t think about these things as “trying to be environmental.”They just… feel normal now.Normal, for someone living inside the Four Great Truths. Strange, for a world still built around the Four Great Untruths.If the old worldview says:“Just toss it in the trash—away it goes,”the new worldview asks:“Away to where? And at what cost?”One worldview stops the thought at the trash can. The other travels all the way to the compost pile, the soil, the seedlings, the next meal, the next generation. Strange? Only until it isn’t.A Glimpse of Tomorrow’s NormalI imagine a future—one Logan and Piper will inherit—where this kind of strangeness is no more unusual than brushing your teeth:* Food forests in front yards instead of lawn deserts* Native plant oases humming with bees* Compost steaming gently on crisp mornings* Kids excitedly adding banana peels “to feed the soil”* Cardboard becoming biochar becoming living earthA world where taking home coffee grounds isn’t odd—it’s common sense. A world where stewardship isn’t “strange”—it’s simply what we do and who we are. And if odd little habits like mine can help nudge the culture that direction, even a millimeter at a time, well… I’m happy to be a strange man. Truth be told, I’ve probably been a strange man for much of my life.In fact, may we all become just strange enough to help turn this ship toward life again.A Quiet Reflection to Ponder This WeekWhen someone calls you strange, pause for a moment. Feel the sting. Smile anyway. And ask yourself:Is this strangeness actually a sign I’m waking up? Growing? Maturing? Becoming someone new?Maybe, just maybe, your strangeness isn’t the flaw. Maybe it’s the doorway. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Imagine greeting the sun each morning, not just as a source of warmth but as a symbol of untapped potential. That’s what I’ve done for over two years which is what led me to writing today’s article/podcast. Every day, Earth receives an astonishing 173,000 terawatts of energy from the sun. Yet, humanity's annual energy consumption is only around 20 terawatts. In other words:A single day’s sunlight provides far more than we need to power our entire planet for a year. This raises a simple but profound question: Why are we not harnessing this energy more effectively?The path to making solar power a cornerstone of our energy system isn’t just about technology. It's about mindset, policy, and creative integration into our everyday lives. What sounds like eco-fantasy—like powering entire cities or global infrastructures from sunlight alone—could become eco-fact. But we need visionaries and bold thinkers, much like the characters in my eco-fantasy worlds, to turn these possibilities into realities.As Rollo May said in The Courage to Create, “Creative courage is the discovery of new forms, new symbols, new patterns on which a new society can be built.” The challenge before us is to cultivate that courage, embracing both creativity and science to envision a new, regenerative world​.Breaking Down the Numbers: How Little We Need to Change the WorldThe math behind solar energy is startling. Humans only use about 0.01% of the solar energy that hits Earth each day. If we could capture even a small fraction of that, we could power our world without fossil fuels. To illustrate, if solar panels could convert just 15-20% of the sunlight they receive into energy (which is roughly the current efficiency), even modest advancements in technology could revolutionize energy storage and distribution.Todd Henry, in Die Empty, encourages us to seize opportunities and constantly develop our skills to be ready for the future. Just as "The Developer" in his book weaves available resources into value, we must do the same with solar technology—taking the raw potential of sunlight and turning it into power​. The challenge lies in storing this energy efficiently and creating decentralized systems that allow every building, every piece of infrastructure to contribute to the solution.Imagine what would be possible if we invested the time, money, and other resources into tapping this near limitless energy resource that we are putting into A. I. Ideas That Could Transform Eco-Fantasy Into Eco-FactHere are five visionary ideas that could push us beyond our current limitations:* Urban Solar Integration: Imagine cities where solar panels are embedded in every surface. From rooftops to windows to roads, each element of our infrastructure could become a micro power station. With technologies like perovskite solar cells showing promise for higher efficiency at lower costs, we could soon see a future where energy generation is woven seamlessly into our daily environment​. Perovskite solar cells are a type of thin-film solar cell that uses a perovskite crystal structure to generate electricity and are a promising next-generation renewable energy technology. Their advantages include high efficiency through the absorption of a broader range of light, potential for low-cost manufacturing with flexible methods like printing, and versatility in applications* Distributed Solar Grids: Shifting away from centralized power plants toward local, distributed solar energy grids would reduce energy loss and improve resilience. Each home, office, and public building could generate and store its own solar power, contributing to the local grid and reducing reliance on large-scale energy infrastructure.* Agrivoltaics – Merging Solar Power and Agriculture: Solar panels placed above crops create a win-win scenario: they generate electricity while also providing shade that reduces water loss for plants. This combination, known as agrivoltaics, optimizes land use by producing both food and energy, offering a practical solution in regions prone to drought.* Space-Based Solar Power: Although it sounds like science fiction, space-based solar farms could be a future game-changer. Solar panels in space would have uninterrupted access to sunlight, generating energy 24/7. The energy could be beamed back to Earth as microwaves or lasers, offering a consistent and limitless power source​.* Solar-Powered Desalination: Water scarcity and energy needs could be addressed simultaneously through solar-powered desalination plants. These facilities use the sun’s energy to convert seawater into drinkable water while generating electricity, solving two critical issues in regions struggling with drought and energy shortages.The Courage to Act and Create New RealitiesJust as Leonardo da Vinci envisioned possibilities far beyond the limits of his time, we must cultivate the same sense of creative curiosity. Michael Gelb’s How to Think Like Leonardo da Vinci highlights the importance of questioning and exploration​. Today’s big questions: How can we bring eco-fantasy into eco-fact? How can we turn the massive amounts of solar energy we receive into a regenerative energy future for all? How about sharing your responses with a comment or join this week’s chat.To achieve this, we need both technological breakthroughs and shifts in public policy. Governments, individuals, and companies alike must invest in solar technologies and grid systems that support clean energy. Policy changes could accelerate the transition by offering incentives for solar installations, and educating the public will foster a deeper understanding of the importance of renewable energy.Bringing eco-fantasy into eco-fact begins with a commitment to possibility. As we look to the sun—an inexhaustible source of clean energy—the future becomes more than just a dream. It becomes a goal, attainable through innovation, courage, and the collective will of individuals who, like Todd Henry’s "Developers," are ready to tap into the untapped​​.We’ve barely scratched the surface of what’s possible. Imagine a world where clean, abundant solar energy powers our cities, provides water to the arid regions, and restores balance to the environment. It’s not a matter of "if"—it’s a matter of "when." Let’s work together to bring that future to life.Unleashed - W. Bradford Swift is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

It feels fitting that this piece arrives on Halloween—a day when we flirt with shadows and celebrate transformation…of sorts.After all, Frankenstein was never just about monsters. It was about creation without conscience—knowledge without wisdom, invention without care.In many ways, we’ve been living our own version of that story as Homo technologicus—powerful, brilliant, but disconnected from the living whole.The time has come for a new creation story—not stitched together from parts, but born of reconnection.This is our real experiment: Becoming Homo guardianis—the Eco-Guardian-in-Training. So. let’s dig in.As I sit here, reflecting on nearly a year of writing and recording One Cause—week after week, article after article—I find myself feeling both awe and humility. What began as an attempt to name “the one cause beneath the many crises” has turned into something much larger: a living invitation to evolve.For eleven months now, I’ve been tracing the story of how humanity’s mistaken sense of separation from nature has led to the metacrisis we now face—ecological, spiritual, political, and cultural all at once. But somewhere along the way, the work began to shift. The question was no longer just How do we fix what’s broken?It became:Who must we become to live in harmony with the Earth again?That question has stayed with me like a heartbeat.The Old Story: Homo technologicusWe humans have been telling ourselves that intelligence is our crowning glory—that progress means mastering the natural world through innovation and control. And to be fair, this capacity has given us much: art, science, medicine, wonder.But it has also given rise to what some have called Homo technologicus—humans defined not by wisdom, but by the tools we wield. A species so clever we can split atoms and code consciousness… yet so distracted we barely pause to feel the forest’s breath or hear the river’s song.We have become brilliant—and dangerously unbalanced. Our inventions outpace our introspection. Our reach exceeds our roots.The Evolutionary InvitationBut what if our next evolutionary step isn’t about better technology, but better relationship? What if the true frontier isn’t Mars, but the mycelial web beneath our feet—and the reawakening of our hearts to the Earth that made us?That, I believe, is the threshold we now stand upon: the emergence of Homo guardianis—the Eco-Guardian-in-Training.This isn’t a new biological species. It’s a new story of what it means to be human.It’s a remembering that intelligence without empathy is incomplete, and progress without reciprocity is regression.The Eco-Guardian-in-TrainingAn Eco-Guardian-in-Training is someone who knows they are part of the Earth’s living community, not separate from it.They live simply and gratefully, finding joy in sufficiency rather than excess.They practice reciprocity—giving back to the web of life that sustains them.They see stewardship not as sacrifice, but as a sacred responsibility.And most importantly, they recognize that this journey has no finish line—that we are always learning how to care more deeply, to listen more fully, to belong more completely.In short: we are becoming Homo guardianis, the humans who remember how to live in right relationship with life itself.The Work of a LifetimeI often think about my grandchildren—and someday, perhaps, theirs.If they ever ask, “What did you do while the world was changing?” I want to be able to answer with my head held high:I chose to evolve. I chose to love the Earth back to life.That’s what One Cause has been about all along—uncovering the deep root of our collective forgetting, and rediscovering the Great Truths that can guide us home: interconnection, sufficiency, reciprocity, and stewardship.The Eco-Guardian Youth Project is one way to bring those truths alive—helping young people (and the adults who love them) experience themselves as part of the living Earth, and step consciously onto this path of becoming.But the truth is, the youth aren’t the only ones in training. We all are.Every time we plant a tree, tell a story that honors the more-than-human world, or choose sufficiency over consumption, we take another step in this great re-evolution of consciousness.A Closing ReflectionIf Homo technologicus was the human who asked, “How can I control?”Then Homo guardianis is the human who asks, “How can I care?”That shift—from control to care—is the hinge on which our future turns.It’s the work of a lifetime, and perhaps many lifetimes.But I believe it’s the most important work there is.Reflection for YouWhat does becoming an Eco-Guardian-in-Training look like in your life—right here, right now? What small act of reciprocity or reverence might you offer to the web of life today?With gratitude,—Brad (Your fellow Homo guardinis and Grand-dudeP.S.Now that the One Cause rough draft is complete, I’d love to hear from you:What would you like to see from me here on Substack moving forward?This project has been a labor of love, clarity, and commitment. And as we enter this next phase together, I want to shape what’s next in a way that supports you—your curiosity, your growth, your family’s journey, your desire to live in alignment with life.A few ideas I’ve been exploring:* Eco-Guardian-in-Training Dispatches – Short, personal essays or podcast episodes on what it looks like to live the Four Great Truths in real time (compost fails, homestead wins, kids’ questions, all of it).* Behind-the-Scenes of the Eco-Guardian Youth Project – Updates, early access to new tools, stories from the Secret Library, and ways to get involved.* Tools for Inspired Action – WOOP guides, Flow Practices, Storymaker Prompts, and more.* Community Spotlights or Guest Conversations – Featuring fellow Eco-Guardians, teachers, parents, artists, and elders walking this path in their own way.But more than anything, I want to know what you are hungry for.What would nourish you?What would make you feel accompanied on this path?Please let me know in the comments or reply to this post.Let’s co-create what comes next.After all, we’re in this Fourth Quarter together. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

I took a long walk through the woods this morning with Rascal, my ever-eager walking partner and four-legged philosopher-in-residence. No phone. No podcasts. Just crisp leaves underfoot, a rising breeze, and the steady rhythm of paws and boots side by side.Out there on the trail, something stirred in me.A quiet voice reminding me:We’re in the Fourth Quarter now.Not just me. (I’m 76.) All of us…all humanity.And the question pressing in is this:How will we play it?Four Fingers in the AirIf you’ve ever watched a Clemson football game—especially in Death Valley—you’ll know the moment I’m talking about.It’s the start of the Fourth Quarter.The whole stadium rises.Thousands of fans raise four fingers into the air.No shouting. No dancing. Just that silent signal.Now is when we give everything.Now is when the real game is won—or lost, so:Stay Focused—Finish StrongI married into this tradition, thanks to my dear wife Ann, a Clemson graduate and lifelong fan. I still remember her mother—bless her soul—perched on the edge of the couch, eyes glued to the screen, hands clenched in nervous joy as the final quarter approached.And I’ll admit: something about it stuck with me.Not just the football—the metaphor.My Fourth Quarter PerspectiveAt 76, I’m very aware I’m in the fourth quarter of my own life. That doesn’t feel like a problem—it feels like an opportunity. I experience a clarity I didn’t always have in the early quarters.And yet, there’s a weight to it too.Because every time I look into the eyes of my grandson Logan (age 4½) or hear my granddaughter Piper’s laughter (2½ and full of wonder), I feel this paradox:Deep joy. And deep responsibility.I adore these little humans. I want them to inherit more than just books and stories and family traditions. I want them to inherit a future: A world worth growing old in.So I’ve recommitted—with full heart and full voice—to my daily One Cause Vow.It’s my personal playbook for this quarter. A sacred agreement I whisper each morning:I am nature. You are nature. We are all one.Let my actions reflect that truth.No, I won’t be perfect. Yes, I’ll fall short. But I will keep showing up. After all, it’s the fourth quarter…for all of us.Humanity’s Scoreboard CheckLet’s be real. If this were a football game, the scoreboard might look… concerning.* We’ve got climate instability spiking across the globe* Biodiversity loss racing forward at terrifying speeds* Economic systems burning out people and ecosystems alike, and * I’m not even going to get into the whole political upheavelSome say we’re in the final two minutes of the Fourth Quarter.Others say overtime may not even be an option.But here’s what I also see:* Solar panels sprouting like sunflowers on rooftops* Youth leaders standing tall, fearless and fierce* Indigenous wisdom resurfacing* Earth Listening Circles forming in libraries and backyards* Grandparents marching with their grandkids* Millions of micro-acts of regeneration already underwaySo yes, it’s late.But it’s not over.Not if we choose to play full out.Why This Quarter Counts MostBack in 2008, when Dabo Swinney became Clemson’s head coach mid-season, he and his strength coach Joey Batson launched what became a team mantra:“They don’t put championship rings on smooth hands.”The message?The work that matters most happens when no one is watching… in the dirt.As Brian Klaas reminds us in his book, Fluke: Chance, Chaos, and Why Everything We Do Matters, ‘seemingly inconsequential actions have life-changing consequences.’What if the most important acts we take don’t show up on social media but rather within our hearts, in our homes, or among our communities? It all adds up. And yes — it all matters.What Legacy Will We Leave?When we talk about legacy, we often mean what we leave behind.But I think it’s more powerful to ask: What will I set in motion?What ripple will move forward because I cared enough to start?Think about the lives of Joanna Macy and Jane Goodall—both eco-activists, truth-tellers, soul-stirrers. Both recently passed from this world.What did they leave behind?* Macy inspired generations with her Work That Reconnects—turning grief into action* Goodall launched Roots & Shoots—inviting young people to lead with love and curiosity* And both of them did so by starting smallOne circle. One conversation. One spark.That’s legacy. So, raise your hand and your heart.So here’s where I leave you.If you’ve read this far—if you’ve walked this far with me through One Cause—I thank you. It’s been an amazing rise these past eleven months.And I ask you:What does your Fourth Quarter look like?We don’t need to be perfect.It does help to be present.We don’t need every answer.It does help to have the courage to keep showing up.So if you’re with me… if you’re ready to give your heart to the future…Raise your metaphorical four fingers.Stand tall. And play like everything depends on it. Because it does. This is our time, and we still have a shot.Let’s play like we mean it. Game On!— Brad (aka W. Bradford Swift, Eco-Guardian-in-Training, Grateful Grand-Dude, & author of One Cause) This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

For a long time, I thought the answer was just doing more.More writing. More coaching. More composting. More sharing. More everything.But here’s what I’ve come to realize: doing more only really matters if we’re doing what matters—to us. Purposefully. Joyfully. In alignment with what we love and long to protect.Taking action as an Eco-Guardian doesn’t mean becoming a full-time climate activist (although it could lead there). It might mean planting a single tree with your child… starting a weekly soup & story night… writing a short story that changes one reader’s mind. Small acts matter. Especially when they’re rooted in joy and aligned with your why. Remember the trimtab effect we learned from my hero, Bucky.Follow the Breadcrumbs of PurposeLet me tell you a slightly sideways story.Remember Hansel and Gretel?As the story goes, they dropped breadcrumbs behind them in the forest so they could find their way home. But the birds came and gobbled them up—leaving the kids lost.That part always felt like a tragedy to me… until recently.Because now I think the breadcrumbs did serve a purpose.Even though the kids couldn’t see them anymore, they’d already done something wise: they’d followed their intuition. They’d paid attention. And even without a clear path back, they found their way forward.So here’s my invitation to you:Follow the breadcrumbs of your own purpose and passion.Even if you can’t yet see where the path leads, I promise—you won’t be disappointed where you end up.That’s what happened for me.This entire One Cause project began with a breadcrumb of inspiration (and yes a little desperation mixed due to the results of the latest presidential election). It’s now growing into a movement here on Substack. I then added in a daily a vow to help true myself up to the 4 Great Truths (Interconnectedness, sufficiency, reciprocity, and stewardship). And now it’s evolving into the Eco-Guardian Youth Project — complete with a Secret Library, an Eco-Guardian Compass, an Eco-Author Challenge, and plans for an Eco-Guardian Training Camps that equip the next generation of planetary protectors.I never could have imagined all that. But I’m grateful I started anyway.So, what about you?Where might your breadcrumbs be leading you? Let’s chat about it here.The Seeds of Inspired ActionLet’s simplify this. Inspired action almost always starts with one (or more) of these three seeds:LoveWhat breaks your heart—or makes it sing with joy and possibility (or perhaps both)?CuriosityWhat question or story keeps tugging at your sleeve? You know, the one that wakes you up in the middle of the night or won’t let you fall asleep to begin with.PurposeWhat feels like a sacred yes—even if you don’t know how to begin? (It may even feel like an ‘impossible mission’ to you. I know mine does.)You don’t need all three. One is enough. Of course, the more the merrier.My own seed was this simple question: How can we raise a generation of young people who truly know themselves as part of Earth’s living system—and are excited to protect it?That seed led to One Cause, which then grew into:* The Eco-Guardian Secret Library* The Storyteller to Storymaker pathway (more about this later.)* The Eco-Author Challenge* And the beginnings of the Eco-Guardian Training Camp(s)All of which share a single intention:To create a new generation of joyful, purposeful Earth protectors—Eco-Guardians-In-Training.Where & How to BeginYou don’t have to start big. Just start where you are.Here’s your Regeneration Action Menu—real things you can do, tailored to different spheres of life:Personal / Inner Actions* Take a daily “walk with Earth”—no phone, just presence* Journal your values, hopes, and ideas using One Cause prompts* Consume mindfully (what we read, watch, and yes, eat shapes us)* Write your own Eco-Guardian Vow—to remind yourself who you’re becomingWhy not share your own personal action here?Family / Household Actions* Start a weekly Soup & Story Night of reading eco-fiction together or share nature gratitude (Not sure what to start with? Send me an email at [email protected] to receive ‘beta access’ to the Eco-Guardian Secret Library.)* Grow something—even a single herb pot* Take on a family challenge from the Dominion Over All Eco-Adventure Playbook (one of the many resources you’ll find within the Secret LibraryCommunity-Based Actions* Host a Repair Café or Clothing Swap* Join or launch an Earth Listening Circle* Organize a Litter Walk + Nature Reflection event for local youthGlobal & Movement-Aligned Actions* Write your local rep with ideas for regenerative policy* Start a “One Cause Club” or Eco-Guardian Pod with friends* Share this project with someone who might just run with itEducators, mentors, and parents: many of these resources are available free via the growing Eco-Guardian Secret Library. Let me know if you’d like early access.Micro-Missions by AgeHere are a few sample starter missions by age group—and yes, you’re invited to remix or invent your own:Ages 10–12* Map your backyard biodiversity* Create a “talking tree” comic strip* Write eco-fiction fanfic for a favorite book or animal* Keep an Art + Nature JournalAges 13–18* Launch a peer-led podcast or YouTube channel on local ecology* Create a Secret Library Club at your school* Map where nature is thriving or hurting in your town* Interview local elders about how nature has changedAdults & Elders* Host an intergenerational circle* Mentor an Eco-Guardian-in-Training* Organize a sharing table or “Freecycle” event* Write a legacy letter to your family about your values as an Eco-GuardianWhat’s your own “micro-mission”? Want to invent one and share it below as a comment?Your Activation InvitationLet’s wrap this with something simple and doable—a starting point for your next step:Pick one action.Start small if that’s where your energy is. Or dream big and declare your own Impossible Mission—one that calls you to rise beyond what you’ve ever done before.Don’t worry about the whole staircase.Just take the next step that feels joyful, aligned, and yours.Mini-Mission:Pick one quadrant this week:* Being – Meditate, breathe, or flow in nature.* Doing – Take one small aligned mission.* Relating – Call a friend, thank a teacher, join a group.* Creating – Start something. Anything. A ripple. A garden. A letter.Let me know what purposeful action you’ll take on this week in the comments:What’s your “project spark”? What’s one small way you’re stepping forward?We’re in this together. And it all matters more than we know.With purpose,—Brad (aka W. Bradford Swift, Eco-Guardian-in-Training, author of One Cause) This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

For a long time, I thought the solution was just doing more.More writing. More coaching. More composting. More advocacy.I thought the world needed me in action.And it does.But what I’ve come to understand—what life has been teaching me, especially over the past few years—is that before we change the world, we must change our relationship to the world. That’s really what One Cause is all about. Releasing the four Great Untruths and embracing and living from the four Great Truths. And that requires becoming someone new. Not inauthentically, not by trying to be someone else, but by growing into the next expression of who we truly are.That’s the journey I’ve been on.That’s the invitation of One Cause.That’s what this article and podcast episode is about.A Vow to GrowI wake each morning now with a quiet ritual—what I call my One Cause Daily Protocol. It’s simple. I sit, I breathe, and I re-commit. Not just to writing or activism or checking items off a to-do list. But to being a person who lives as if the Four Great Truths are real, trustworthy, and the foundation for a regenerative future.I won’t share the whole thing here (it’s long and sacred to me), but I’ll give you a piece of it:“Even while living in a world and culture shaped for hundreds of years by the Four Great Untruths, I choose to dedicate my life to living in alignment with the Four Great Truths—to the best of my ability.”“This is, without a doubt, an impossible mission for me… and yet, it is also the next level of my Life On Purpose journey, which began in earnest in 1996.”That was nearly 30 years ago.Now, at 76, I’m choosing to level up again.Not to “save the world” but to live in service to it.That choice shows up in my morning meditations, in my rhythm of writing, in the creation of the Loving Homestead, and in the launch of the Eco-Guardian Youth Project.But most of all, it shows up in who I’m becoming.Some days I do this with a steady heart and a strong spine. Other days, I’m tired or anxious or distracted. I fall short. But I come back. Because this isn’t about perfection. It’s about purposeful practice.The Compass for BecomingOne of the tools that’s helped me orient this journey is a framework adapted from Ken Wilber’s Integral Theory—a way of seeing ourselves and our actions in four interrelated dimensions:* Being – Who am I becoming?* Doing – What actions am I taking?* Relating – Who am I walking with?* Creating – What am I contributing to the world?This simple compass reminds me that inspired action is not just about what I accomplish out there. It’s about what I cultivate in here—and how I connect it all together.Let me walk you through how these quadrants have shown up in my life… and how they might serve you, too.Being: The Inner Ground of Inspired ActionWhen we speak of action, we often rush past the inner world—the emotions, habits, and self-perceptions that shape how we show up. But as I’ve learned (again and again), becoming the kind of person who takes inspired action begins inside.For me, this has meant cultivating flow states—both on the pickleball court and at the writing desk. It’s not just about playing better or writing faster. It’s about discovering that place where action and awareness merge. Flow reminds me that I’m capable of more than I think—and that joy, not fear, can power progress.It’s also meant learning emotional agility.I used to believe that if I felt anxious or overwhelmed, I needed to “fix it” before moving forward. Now, I’m learning to walk with those emotions. To listen to them. To let them sharpen my focus rather than steal my power.And perhaps most of all, I’ve discovered the power of eudaimonic joy—that deeper kind of fulfillment that comes not from getting what I want, but from living in alignment with what matters. Purpose. Service. Connection. These are the renewable fuels of a regenerative life.Doing: Hero Training in Daily LifeIt’s one thing to feel inspired. It’s another to act on it.One of my core commitments lately has been to take daily actions, no matter how small, that strengthen my alignment. I think of it as hero training—not in a flashy, Marvel-movie kind of way, but in the ordinary, real-world sense of being someone others can count on.For me, that includes:* Moving my body with intention (pickleball is my dojo)* Journaling my thoughts, doubts, and dreams* Tackling micro-missions like writing letters, planting pollinators, or simply sharing a Substack note that might ripple outwardSmall doesn’t mean insignificant.Small is how everything starts.Relating: Who We Walk WithOne of the biggest breakthroughs I’ve had in the One Cause journey is realizing that I don’t need to do it all alone. In fact, I can’t.Whether it’s building the Loving Homestead with Ann…Or coaching a client who’s writing a legacy-worthy novel…Or participating in organizing a Community After Hours with my friend, Kerry…I’m discovering that action becomes more joyful—and more sustainable—when it’s done in community.Even this project—this article you’re reading—is an act of co-creation. Between you and me. Between human intelligence and (yes) artificial intelligence. Between idea and action. So if you’ve been feeling like you need to “figure it all out” before stepping forward… let that go. Find your circle (In fact, this may be it, or at least one of them). Invite others in. Even one other person can shift everything. Let me know how I and others in this community can support your purposeful project(s).Creating: Acts of RegenerationI used to think “creative acts” meant writing books or starting movements. And sure, those count. But I’ve come to realize that any act that brings more life into the world is a creative act.Composting.Storytelling.Mending a shirt.Rewilding a corner of your backyard.Organizing a neighborhood seed swap.Every one of these is a regenerative gesture—a way of saying: “This world matters. I choose to be a part of its healing.”So don’t wait for the big moment.Start creating now.Even small ripples can become waves.You Are the OneI’ll end this Substack with a reminder that changed me the first time I heard it:“You are the one you’ve been waiting for.”No superhero is coming.No perfect plan will arrive.But you? You are already enough to begin.So here’s my invitation:Mini-ActivationThis week, choose one of the four quadrants:* Being – Meditate, breathe, or flow.* Doing – Take one small mission aligned with your values.* Relating – Call a friend, thank a teacher, or join a local circle.* Creating – Make something. Anything. Then share it.And if you feel moved, let me know in the comments or let’s chat about it:What’s one small way you’re becoming the person the future needs?We’re in this together.And we’re just getting started.With purpose,Brad (aka W. Bradford Swift, Eco-Guardian-in-Training & Founder of One Cause)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. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Not long ago and more nights than I care to remember, two questions kept me awake at night.What is an Eco-Guardian-in-Training (EGIT)?And are you one?The questions wouldn’t let me go. They prompted me to remember a time from my past when I co-founded the Life On Purpose Institute and, for 22 years, watched thousands of people begin their journey by taking the Life On Purpose Self-Test. That simple tool became the first step for countless people clarifying and living into their Divinely Inspired Purpose.And it hit me: maybe it’s time for a new self-test.Not for purpose alone this time, but for something bigger:To help people of all ages — from curious 10-year-olds to wise elders — discover where they are on the journey of becoming an Eco-Guardian.A Bit of BackstoryLong before One Cause had a name, I was writing eco-fiction for young people with this mission in my heart:To inspire young people to become joyful lifelong readers and responsible, caring stewards of the Earth and all her inhabitants.As One Cause evolved, a new name surfaced for that vision: Eco-Guardians.Eco-Guardians aren’t superheroes (though they sometimes feel like it). They are ordinary people who remember the extraordinary truth: we are not separate from nature, but part of it. Their calling is simple and profound—to care for Earth, her creatures, and each other.But how do we know if we’re on this path?That’s where the Eco-Guardian Self-Test comes in.The Self-Test: Three Paths, One JourneyWe’ve created three versions of the Self-Test, each tuned to where you are in life:* Eco-Guardian Foundations Test (ages 10–14): 10 questions to help younger seekers explore belonging, kindness, curiosity, and gratitude.* Eco-Guardian Growth Test (ages 15–18): 15 questions that stretch into resilience, systems thinking, and identity.* Eco-Guardian Mastery Test (adults & elders): 20 questions for those ready to weave stewardship, reciprocity, and mentorship into daily life.Each test is short, fun, and designed to help you see both your strengths and your growth edges.And like any true initiation, there are stages of progress: Explorer → Helper → Hero. Awakening → Engaged → Thriving. And ultimately: Stewardship.Why It MattersThe Self-Test isn’t about a score. It’s about remembering who we really are.Through myth, story, and the 20 Qualities of Eco-Guardianship, we are building not just a new kind of human being — but remembering who we’ve been all along, before the Four Great Untruths clouded our way.How to Take the TestHere’s where it gets fun. The Self-Test will live inside the Secret Library, alongside Ra-Kit’s Initiation and other treasures. (All of which are available on a “Pay What You Will” format.)Why? Because this isn’t just a “quiz.” It’s a portal.When you step through, you’ll not only gain access to the Eco-Guardian Self-Test Report (with all three versions), but you’ll also be joining a circle of people committed to remembering and living as Eco-Guardians (and who has access to the growing resources found within the Eco-Guardian Secret Library. An InvitationTake the test. Share your results here either as a comment or join this week’s chat: Then, invite your kids, grandkids, students, or friends to do the same.Share with the community:* What stage are you on the path?* What quality are you most proud of?* What’s one edge you’re excited to grow?Let’s see what happens when we take this journey not just alone, but together.Because being an Eco-Guardian is not a title. It’s a lifelong practice.And it begins with a single step of remembering.We’re growing a community of Eco-Guardians-In-Training so join this movement within the larger movement of the Great Turning. Subscribe for free or with a paid subscription. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

A Letter from the FogDear fellow Ego-Guardians-In-Training,If I’m being fully transparent, this next part of the journey—moving from vision to action—feels both exhilarating and daunting. I’ve spent months now weaving together the threads of One Cause—laying out the Great Untruths that got us here, and the Great Truths that could guide us home. We’ve imagined a possible new future or at least a framework for one. We’ve planted the seed of a youth movement. And now… we’re standing at the edge.It’s time to act.And here’s where I want to pause and speak plainly. Because if I’ve learned anything from my own path—and from the people I coach and write for—it’s this:Knowing what to do is not the same as being ready to do it.Truth is, I’ve been circling this very chapter for days…no, weeks. Each time I sat down to write it, I found myself distracted… hesitant… heavy. And slowly I began to realize: this chapter isn’t just about writing about the roadblocks.I was inside one.If you relate to this, leave me a comment so I know I’m not alone.Some days, it’s resignation that grabs hold. “It’s too late,” it whispers when I read the latest climate data or hear yet another political leader dodge the truth.On other days, it’s confusion. “Where do I even begin?” I ask, even as I sit in a room full of notes and plans.And more often than I’d like to admit, I feel that slow fog of overwhelm creep in—when the gap between what I want to create and what I can manage feels too wide to cross.I used to see these feelings as failures. Signs I wasn’t committed enough. Or strong enough. But now I recognize them for what they are:They’re the friction before the flame. The fog before the light.And so I want to offer this to you—whoever and wherever you are on the path. If you’ve ever felt stuck… or small… or unsure how to begin—you are not alone.There’s a reason we don’t leap into action the moment we learn the truth. There’s a kind of grief to face first. A kind of disorientation. We have to come to terms with the fact that the world we thought we lived in is already changing—and that the solutions will almost certainly not come from the systems that caused the harm.That’s a lot to hold.So I say this with love and urgency: Let’s hold it together.Let’s stop pretending that we have to have it all figured out before we move. Because more often than not, it’s the moving that brings the clarity. Do we wait to feel inspired or do we act knowing that it is through action that inspiration is ignited and sustained?Action is what clears the fog. Action is what unlocks the flow.One action that could lead to a community inspired would be to join the chat where you can share your challenges as well as your successes. It doesn’t have to be grand. You don’t need to launch a nonprofit or write a book although you may choose to do either or both. Maybe it starts with planting one native flower in your yard. Maybe it’s writing a letter to your grandkids—born or not yet born—about the future you dream for them. Maybe it’s just sitting with the discomfort and not allowing yourself to go numb.That’s still movement.That’s still sacred.So yes, this chapter could have been titled “The Five Barriers to Action” and offered tidy bullet points on resignation, complacency, confusion, overwhelm, and hopelessness.But I’d rather tell you this:I’m stumbling through these barriers too. And I believe with all my heart that we can meet them—and move through them—together.We can turn despair into devotion.We can compost confusion into clarity.We can turn stuckness into a seed that breaks open—with just enough light.Because the truth is, you don’t need perfect clarity to begin. You just need to say yes.Yes to trying.Yes to caring.Yes to showing up, however you can.And I’ll be here with you as we take those next steps—toward inspired action, and a future worth regenerating.With muddy boots and an open heart,BradJoin a movement in the process of moving forward through the fog and straight on to dawn. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Last November, something cracked open in me.The U.S. presidential election results had just landed, and like many, I was holding out hope for leadership that might finally meet the moment—leadership that could help steer us away from collapse and toward regeneration. Truthfully, I didn’t hold out a lot of hope that either political parties’ candidates would focus sufficient efforts on our global climate crisis, but I felt pretty confident that at least one of them would make some effort in the right direction. But when the winner was a ‘self-proclaimed climate change denier, I felt a sinking ache in my chest.Our political leaders aren’t going to save us. In fact, our entire political system that continues to cling to the myths of domination, separation, and control isn’t the answer. We can’t continue to do the same thing over and over and over while expecting different results. I was tired of that insanity.I recalled a powerful YouTube video I’d watched during one of my Game Changers Intensives. It started with this haunting reframe: “It’s 3:23 in the morning and I’m awake because my great great grandchildren won’t let me sleep. They ask me in dreams, What did you do while the planet was plundered? What did you do while the earth was unraveling?…what did you do once you knew?”I didn’t have to wonder that far into the future about my great great grandchildren. I wondered and worried what I would say to my grandkids, Logan and Piper. I didn’t know what my answer would be. I just knew I couldn’t keep holding back. I had to do something and it didn’t take a giant leap to know that it would include writing, but not about symptoms—carbon, consumption, corruption—but about causes. Deeper causes. Root causes. And that was the birth of One Cause.It started as a short Substack series. A weekly space to share hard truths and hopeful visions. But over the months, it grew—into a book-in-progress, a blueprint of Four Great Untruths and Four Great Truths, and maybe, just maybe… a movement.Not a movement in the marching sense. A movement in the growing sense. A living thing. Organic. Unfolding.The Moment BetweenRight now, we’re in what Joanna Macy would call “The Space Between Worlds.” The Great Unraveling is here. You can feel it. The systems that once held us no longer do. But we are also in the midst of the Great Turning. It will not be led from Washington or Wall Street. It will be led by us—eco-conscious families, community visionaries, regenerative thinkers, and most especially… our youth. Because when I asked myself where the real turning point might come from, the answer was immediate: Our kids, and our grandkids, and their kids…The ones who haven’t yet forgotten what it means to live close to the Earth.And so, the next seed began to germinate.Inspired by the Great Turning? Share this article with another eco-conscious soul: a teacher, parent, or young person Introducing: The Eco-Guardian Youth ProjectOut of One Cause, the Eco-Guardian Youth Project (EGYP) is emerging—a multi-phase, multi-generational invitation to reawaken our children’s connection to nature, story, purpose, and the power of their own creative voice. Here’s what it looks like in its early form:Vision SummaryEGYP is a movement to inspire, awaken, and empower youth ages 10–18 to become joyful, creative stewards of the Earth.It begins with story.It deepens through creative expression.It takes root through community, mentorship, and regenerative training. It’s about equipping a new generation of Eco-Guardians-in-Training (EGITs) with the courage, collaboration, and leadership to protect what they love.Here’s How I See It UnfoldingEntry Portal: Storyteller to StorymakerOne of the main entry points will be local and online co-creative Storyteller to Storymaker events where kids create a magical eco-story in real time. These will be opportunities for young participants to tap into their purpose-inspired imagination—and glimpse the world they will help shape. They will also learn about and receive a special ‘library card’ to the Eco-Guardian Secret Society Library, a hidden online space filled with eco-fiction, nonfiction, and Earth-honoring wisdom. Access to the secret library is on a Pay-What-You-Will basis, because no child should be left out of this movement by monetary constraints.Our initial goals for the Secret Library by the end of the first quarter of 2026:* 500+ digital library cards issued* 200+ library patrons visiting the library* 300+ eco-book downloadsPhase 2: The Eco-Author ChallengeIn 2026, the plan is to launch our first Eco-Author Challenge where young writers, artists, and eco-storytellers will submit fiction and nonfiction work for possible inclusion in a youth-authored anthology of writing and illustrations. This will be also be the opportunity for participants to learn the fun and joy of cooperative and creative collaboration.Phase 3: The Eco-Guardian Training Camp (EGTC)A deeper dive for the kids who want to keep going. Towards the end of 2026 (or earlier if the resources come available) we’ll launch phase 3, the Eco-Guardian Training Camp which will include:* Monthly eco-missions* Interactive Zoom workshops* Peer support & mentorship* Creative exploration where other family members, teachers, and librarians are invited as allies.Why This Matters NowThe climate crisis isn’t just about rising seas and escalating temperatures. It’s about rising anxiety. Rising disconnection. Rising loneliness.Our kids are inheriting a world that feels broken.Let’s give them something else.Let’s give them a place to belong—a circle, a story, and a mission.How is your family navigating the Great Unraveling? Comment below or join the Chat.Call for Collaborators & Eco-Conscious FamiliesRight now, we’re forming the early roots of this vision—and we’d love you to join us.We’re currently seeking:* Youth-centered educators* Artists, writers, and librarians* Homeschooling families* Eco-parents and grandparents* Potential beta-testers* Founding members of an informal Eco-Conscious Family Advisory CircleIf you’re reading this and feeling the stir of “Yes, I want to help,” reach out.We’re building something beautiful—and your voice is welcome and needed.Reach out if you’re ready to co-create something regenerative. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

“Bring out the secrets of nature for the happiness of humanity.”—Thomas EdisonWhen you think of a genius, you might picture someone like Thomas Edison—brilliant, prolific, and ruthlessly practical. He held over 1,000 patents, lit up the world with electricity, and helped create entire industries.And yet, one of his lesser-known quotes reveals something deeper:“Anything that won’t sell, I don’t want to invent. Sales are proof of utility, and utility is success.”What if that had been different?What if Edison had said instead,“Anything that doesn’t serve nature, I won’t invent”?Or, “I’ll make sure all my inventions serve all of nature.”What if genius wasn’t just measured in profits—but in regeneration?In healing ecosystems? In protecting future generations?Rethinking Genius for the Climate EraWe’re not just in a tech revolution. We’re in a values revolution.And it’s asking us to realign our creative brilliance with Earth’s needs.What does that look like?Let’s explore how genius unfolds when aligned with the Four Great Truths.InterconnectednessBuildings designed like trees. Cities modeled after watersheds. Living walls that breathe. Biophilic design is more than beautiful—it’s genius guided by connection.SufficiencySolar-powered irrigation tools shared across community farms. Open-source tech in the Global South. These are innovations that whisper: “There is enough, if we share.”ReciprocityRegenerative farming practices. Fungi that form mutualistic partnerships underground. Genius, it turns out, doesn’t dominate the soil—it listens to it.StewardshipDesigners embracing cradle-to-cradle design ask:“Can this product return to the Earth or be used again endlessly?”From sneakers to smartphones, stewardship is becoming a blueprint.Eco-Innovation SpotlightsVinisha Umashankar (India)At just 14, she designed a solar-powered ironing cart—clean, portable, and practical. It replaces charcoal carts used by millions of vendors. She’s been recognized by the Earthshot Prize and spoke at COP26.Tree-Planting DronesCompanies like Dendra Systems are using drones to reforest areas faster and more precisely than humans can alone. Tech meets trees. Restoration at scale.Indigenous Climate SolutionsFrom controlled burns to solar-powered fish camps, Indigenous wisdom is guiding new climate adaptations. Ancient intelligence meets modern need.These aren’t just cool projects. They’re proof: Real genius is humble, regenerative, and in service to life.What If… the Next iPhone Healed the Planet?Let’s stretch our vision.What if the next iPhone regenerated coral reefs?What if our “smart homes” grew vegetables and filtered rainwater. Or even better what is our homes separated our ‘gray water’ to use in our garden from the waste water which was then ‘composted’ locally for future use?What if middle school science fairs became incubators for rewilding the suburbs?Imagination isn’t a luxury—it’s a tool of survival and ultimately a portal to our thriving in a regenerative future. It’s time to start dreaming forward.Visioneering Your Own Eco-Genius ProjectHere’s your invitation to get started:* Ask: What breaks your heart about what’s happening to Earth?(Dead coral? Plastic-filled oceans? Birdsongs going silent? The loss of pollinators globally?)* Imagine: If Nature could whisper an answer, what might she say?(Start with what’s alive near you.)* Begin: What small, doable project could you begin or continue as a small step to a regenerative future? A backyard pollinator patch? A soil experiment? A letter to your mayor? For example, one of my ongoing project is transforming my yard that I once had to cut everyone two weeks into a food forest. Here are a few pics of our latest additions/kins.4. Then tell someone about your mini-eco project. How about including this Gaia’s Call community by leaving a comment in the Chat By the way, the chat feature is available both within the Substack app and on the website. Redefining GeniusWe’ve inherited more than Edison’s brilliance—we’ve inherited his blind spots.So let’s rewrite the rules.Not “What will sell?” But “What will serve life?”Real genius isn’t just clever.It’s caring. It’s regenerative.It grows futures worth living into.Your Bonus Mini-Mission: Activate Your Inner VisionaryThis week, choose one:* Learn about a young climate innovator like Vinisha.* Write down 3 “What if…?” ideas for healing the planet.* Start a journal of nature-inspired ideas (yes, doodles count).* Share this article with someone who needs a nudge of possibility.Because the next revolution in innovation won’t come from tech titans.It’ll come from gardeners. Grand-Dudes. Librarians. Artists. You.P.S. What If Genius Became a Movement?Behind the scenes, I’ve been nurturing a bold new vision:The Eco-Guardian Youth Project.It begins with a Secret Library.Leads into a youth writing challenge.And blossoms into an Eco-Guardian Training Camp—a place where young readers, writers, and visionaries gather to reimagine the future.Think: Hogwarts for Eco-Guardians.It’s still unfolding—but if your inner genius (or outer mentor) feels called…I’d love to hear from you.Let’s imagine something beautiful into being—together. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

A Heroic MomentIt started with a phone call.It was a Thursday night. Ann and I had just settled in when Amber, our daughter, called. Their basement was flooding. Justin, her husband, had been called away as a first responder, and she needed help—immediately. “No big deal,” I thought. I packed a bag, grabbed some clothes, and drove up the mountain to their home. I figured I’d help vacuum the water, maybe stay the night.I had no idea we were stepping into a storm that would soon be named Helene.By 2 a.m., the power was gone. The vacuum was useless. The water kept rising. Inches of rain kept falling—hour after hour, day after day. We were to learn later that our area received from 13 to over 30 inches of rain. Cell towers went down next, due primarily to the power outages and disruption of the fiber optic lines, and with them, our ability to communicate with anyone. We were cut off. It was just Amber and me, two Eco-Guardians in crisis mode, with two small children—Logan, 3½, and Piper, 1½—and no idea what was coming next.For five days, we hunkered down. No power. No news. Just each other, and the steady rhythm of responsibility: diapers, food, water, buckets, blankets, calming fears. Was Ann okay? We had no way to know… until Justin managed to reach her days later, confirming she was safe.That week, I learned something about heroism.Not the cinematic kind. Not the lone savior kind.The real kind. Collaborative. Courageous. Committed to care.What does it mean to be a hero when the world we know is unraveling?When was the last time you felt the pull to rise—not as a savior, but as a steward?The true superpower of our time isn’t domination. It’s cooperation and collaboration. But what does this look like?Consider the International Space Station. It took 15 nations—many of them former adversaries—over a decade to build something none could have accomplished alone. Astronaut Ron Garan calls this the Orbital Perspective —the worldview that emerges when you look back at Earth from space and realize we’re all in it together.And I believe this is the same as the On Purpose Perspective that has inspired the One Cause movement: seeing Earth not as a battlefield, but as a beloved home. A shared miracle…one that we’ve been mistreating and taking for granted, but also one that has amazing healing powers when given the chance.The Hero, the Genius, the Visionary: They All Live in YouBrian Johnson says, “You are the hero we’ve been waiting for.”And I’d add: the genius? That’s you, too. The visionary? Also you.You don’t need superpowers. Just purpose.Joseph Campbell gave us the Hero’s Journey. But our dragons today aren’t fire-breathing monsters. They’re internal illusions:* The myth that we’re separate from nature.* The addiction to more is always better.* The belief that we can innovate our way out of responsibility.The call to adventure today is to live aligned with the Four Great Truths.This is more than action. It’s a full-system shift—what Ken Wilber would call a four-quadrant transformation:* Upper Left: How we see ourselves.* Lower Left: How we relate to others.* Upper Right: What we create and build.* Lower Right: How we organize communities and systems.Here’s a brief overview of the quadrants. To be a hero now means embracing a worldview that regenerates life, rather than depletes it.Living the Truths: Real-World Eco-GuardiansHere are four real-world heroes whose work embodies the Four Great Truths:Interconnectedness → Robin Wall KimmererBotanist and author of Braiding Sweetgrass, Kimmerer weaves science with Indigenous wisdom. She reminds us that plants are not just resources—they are relatives. Her work is a living invitation to reciprocity and reverence.Sufficiency → Wangari MaathaiFounder of Kenya’s Green Belt Movement, Maathai empowered thousands of women to plant over 50 million trees. Her work was rooted in the belief that there is enough—enough land, enough water, enough life—if we share and care for it.Reciprocity → Joanna MacyThrough The Work That Reconnects, Macy offers practices for transforming ecological grief into grounded, regenerative action. She helps people see their pain for the world not as weakness—but as love in disguise. ( I realize that Joanna has recently passed away. I’m also sure her work lives on in many of us.)Stewardship → Boyan Slat and Youth Eco-LeadersAt just 16, Slat launched The Ocean Cleanup. Today, his efforts inspire a generation. Around the world, youth-led permaculture teams, regenerative garden crews, and Earth Listening Circles are reclaiming stewardship as sacred.Want to spotlight your own local hero?Click the “Join the Chat” button and share your story. I’ll start with mine: my wife, Ann, who founded the Hendersonville Repair Cafes—teaching people to fix what’s broken instead of tossing it out.You Are Already on the PathHere’s the truth: if you’re reading this, you’re already walking your path.I’m walking mine, too.* These weekly One Cause articles? That’s part of it.* My time in the garden, tending to squash and sweet potatoes? That’s part of it. (More coming on my Loving Homestead experiment soon.)* Hosting Earth Listening Circles and listening deeply to the pain—and promise—of our time? That’s part of it, too.Want to go deeper? Try journaling with one of these prompts:* What breaks your heart most about the world right now?* When have you felt most connected to nature?* What’s one small act of restoration you’ve already done?* What’s a dream you have that could help life on Earth thrive?* Who in your life is already living as a modern-day hero?* What’s one way you can embody one of the Four Great Truths this week?Mini-Mission: Your Heroic StepChoose one act this week. Make it small. Make it soulful. Make it yours. Here are a few suggestions:* Tend to a part of nature near you—even if it’s a tired houseplant or a patch of sidewalk.* Share one journaling prompt with someone you care about.* Post about the Great Truth that’s most alive for you. (Click Here to review the 4 Great Truths.)* Begin a “hero’s notebook” for wild, regenerative ideas.Then tell someone. Pass it on. Share it here by clicking the Comment button. That’s how movements begin.Because the future doesn’t belong to superheroes.It belongs to visionaries in muddy boots, to fierce-hearted families, to old and bold grand-dudes, and to eco-guardians rising in every corner of this turning world.This is your invitation.To stop waiting. To start creating. To be the cause.The age of separation is ending. The age of stewardship has begun.Shall we begin? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

A Note for Families and the Young at HeartLast Friday, I shared some reflections on a new energy law passed by Congress—how it reveals the deeper beliefs shaping our politics, and how we might start building something better from the ground up.But the real question I’ve been sitting with since then is this: What are we teaching the next generation about freedom, responsibility, and the earth we all share?That’s why I wrote the following piece—not as a political commentary, but as a walk through the woods with my grandkids and other young Eco-Guardians in training. It’s a conversation I imagine having with Logan when he’s just a little older and starting to wonder how this world works… and how he can help shape it.It’s written from the heart, in the voice of “Grand-Dude,” with just enough dirt on the boots to keep things grounded in love, wonder, and truth.Feel free to share it with the kids in your life—or with the child still alive in your own heart.What If Our Laws Helped the Earth?A Post-July 4th walk with Grand-DudeHey there, kiddo.Imagine you and I are out for one of our favorite walks through the woods. The sun’s peeking through the trees, birds are singing overhead, and there’s a gentle breeze that smells just a little like pine needles and adventure.Now, let me ask you something.What if the rules we made—you know, the big ones, the laws—helped the Earth instead of hurting it? What if every decision grown-ups made about energy, land, and how we live was also a promise to care for nature, for animals, and for kids like you?What Happened This WeekWell, this week, the grown-ups in charge passed a big new law. It’s all about energy. It might sound good at first—more jobs, more power, more stuff—but here’s the thing: most of that energy will come from digging up fossil fuels like oil and gas.And fossil fuels? They’re kind of like old buried treasure... but when we burn them, they make the air dirty, hurt animals’ homes, and heat up the planet more than it already is.So that got me thinking...The Four Great Untruths (a.k.a. some big misunderstandings)You see, there are some ideas many adults still believe—ideas that just don’t hold up when you look at the world closely, especially out here in the woods. I call them the Four Great Untruths. Let me tell you what they are, and you tell me if they sound right to you, okay?* “We’re separate from nature.”That’s like saying a tree doesn’t need the soil, or that we don’t need air or water. Silly, right?* “More is always better.”Imagine trying to eat 100 cookies in one sitting. You’d probably get a bellyache. The Earth does too.* “The Earth has endless resources.”Even your flashlight runs out of battery. So does the planet when we take too much.* “Technology will save us.”Tech is cool—robots, rockets, and all—but we also need love, kindness, and wisdom. You can’t plug that into a charger.The Four Great Truths (the real treasures)Now here’s what I believe deep down—and I bet you do too. These are the Four Great Truths. These are the seeds we can plant together for a better world:* Interconnectedness – We’re all part of one big web of life. Like when a bee helps a flower, and the flower feeds a butterfly, and the butterfly makes us smile.* Sufficiency – There’s enough for everyone when we share—like pie on Thanksgiving when we each take just what we need.* Reciprocity – Giving and receiving go together. Like when you give a hug and get one back. Or when you help nature, and nature helps you.* Stewardship – This is the big one: taking care of the Earth like it’s your pet, your playground, your best friend. Because it is.Your Mini-Mission: Ready to make some magic?I’ve got a few little quests for you. Pick one—or all—and make this Independence Day about more than just fireworks.Draw a “Freedom Flag”Not just stars and stripes. Try trees and rivers, birds and bees. Make it a flag for all life.Ask your family a big question“What does real freedom mean—for people, animals, and the planet?” You might be surprised by what they say.Plant somethingA seed. A flower. A tree. Even a dream. And while you're at it, pick up a piece of trash if you see one.And Remember…You may be small, but your heart is huge. And your voice matters more than you know.So let’s walk a little further, hand in hand, and dream together...Because the future needs you, brave Eco-Guardian. With love and muddy boots,Your Grand-DudeUnleashed - W. Bradford Swift is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Before the fireworks faded this year and Rascal (my canine companion) had finally calmed down, I found myself caught in the sparks of something else entirely: a clash of narratives surrounding H.R.1, dubbed by some the “Big Beautiful Bill.” I’d heard plenty of heated rhetoric from Democratic leaders condemning the bill as a blatant handout to the wealthy and fossil fuel interests. But then I read a very different take—this time from a thoughtful Trump-supporting acquaintance who spoke glowingly of the bill’s promise for energy independence and economic revival.So I did what I often do when something doesn’t sit quite right on either side.I paused. I got quiet. And I chose to look for myself.Not through the lens of party loyalty. Not through the red vs. blue tribalism that dominates our national conversation. But through the deeper lens of One Cause—a project I’ve been living, writing, and inviting others into since the last election.Because the truth is, we don’t just need new policies. We need a new foundation for policymaking itself. A worldview that doesn’t pit us against each other or against the planet we depend on—but one that recognizes our interdependence and shared future.And this bill? Whether you love it or hate it, it reveals exactly what happens when we legislate from a dysfunctional and unsustainable worldview.Let’s unpack that.What Is the “Big Beautiful Bill” Really About?H.R.1, officially titled the “Lower Energy Costs Act,” is a sweeping piece of legislation aimed at ramping up fossil fuel extraction, deregulating environmental protections, and accelerating the permitting process for energy development—including oil, gas, and mining.Its supporters frame it as a bold move toward energy independence and economic prosperity. Its critics argue it’s a catastrophic giveaway to fossil fuel corporations, furthering environmental degradation and inequality. From the surface, it’s a political clash like any other.But let’s go deeper.What if the real issue isn’t just the bill’s content—but the worldview beneath it?The Four Great Untruths at WorkAs part of One Cause, I’ve identified what I call the Four Great Untruths—core assumptions that quietly shape much of our modern life, including our political systems. They’re not just wrong. They’re dangerously out of alignment with Indigenous wisdom of the ages, modern science, and the living systems we depend on.Let’s see how each shows up in H.R.1:1. We Are Separate from NatureThis untruth justifies treating the Earth as a resource pit rather than a living partner. H.R.1 reinforces this by stripping away environmental safeguards and fast-tracking extraction as if the land were inert, disposable, and unfeeling.2. More Is Always BetterThe bill celebrates growth—especially fossil-fueled economic growth—without acknowledging limits or consequences. It promotes more drilling, more mining, more consumption as if expansion were the same as prosperity.3. The Earth’s Resources Are InfiniteNowhere does H.R.1 reckon with planetary boundaries. There’s no mention of climate tipping points, ecological degradation, or the cost to future generations. It’s the legislative equivalent of raiding Earth’s savings account with no plan to repay.4. Technology Will Save UsThe bill leans heavily on innovation and deregulation, assuming that if we just remove enough “red tape,” market forces and tech will fix what’s broken—without needing to rethink the deeper patterns that created the problem in the first place.This isn’t to demonize those who support the bill. It’s to shine light on the operating system beneath it.And to ask: what if we chose a different foundation?The Four Great Truths: A Compass for Regenerative GovernanceNow imagine a bill shaped not by domination, scarcity, and short-term thinking—but by life-affirming truths grounded in ancient wisdom, ecological science, and human dignity.These are the Four Great Truths we explore in One Cause:1. InterconnectednessAll life is connected. We flourish together or not at all. Policy grounded in this truth would account for the well-being of watersheds, pollinators, ecosystems, and future generations—not just GDP.2. SufficiencyThere is enough for everyone when we use wisely and share fairly. Rather than hoarding or extraction, sufficiency prioritizes equity, access, and regenerative design.3. Reciprocity with NatureWe are part of nature’s web, not outside it. True freedom isn’t the right to exploit, but the opportunity to give back. Policy aligned with this truth would build soil, restore forests, and invest in life-giving systems.4. Humanity as Stewards, Not MastersWe are not rulers over nature, but caretakers within it. Governance rooted in stewardship sees leadership as service—not domination—and future-proofing as sacred responsibility.These truths aren’t partisan. They’re planetary.They’re not “left” or “right.” They’re forward.And we desperately need politics that reflect them.So What Are We Legislating For?Maybe that’s the real question this July 4th: Not just what we’re celebrating—but what we’re voting for. Organizing for. Teaching our children about.Are we defending a system that’s unraveling the very fabric of life?Or are we willing to co-create a new foundation—one rooted in truth, not ideology?I don’t know exactly what that next system looks like. But I know this: it won’t emerge from cynicism or despair. It will emerge from bold honesty, radical responsibility, and fierce love—for Earth, for each other, and for all generations to come.Mini-Mission: Read with New EyesThis week, take a few minutes to read one piece of legislation—not from outrage or allegiance, but from curiosity.Then ask yourself:* What worldview does this reflect?* Who or what benefits?* Who or what is left out?* How would this be different if we legislated from the Four Great Truths?Then share your reflections. With a friend. On social media. Or even better, with your local representative.Share Your Dream for a Regenerative FutureClick to add your vision. Your voice matters.Let’s turn governance into a conversation worth having.Final ReflectionThis isn’t about red vs. blue. It’s about life vs. collapse. Unity vs. division. Possibility vs. business-as-usual.It’s time we moved from extractive politics to purposeful politics.And the shift begins not in Washington—but right here.In our hearts, our homes, our homesteads, our circles of care.Because the most radical thing we can do right now is believe that a better system is possible.And then, brick by brick, truth by truth, build it.Subscribe for Future Purposeful Politics & One Cause Posts. We’re building a new path—together. Join us.PS: For the Young (and Young at Heart)As I reflected on all of this, I found myself imagining a future walk through the woods with my grandson, Logan. He’s only four now, but I picture him at ten or twelve, asking, “Grand-Dude, what kind of world are we making?” That image inspired me to craft a companion piece—a version of this message told with curiosity, playfulness, and muddy boots. One for the kids. One for the classrooms. One for the Eco-Guardians in training.I’ll be sharing it early next week. I hope you’ll read it aloud with a young one in your life—or maybe with the still-young part of your own heart. Stay tuned.P.S.S.David Attenborough’s Ocean: The world’s leading natural historian draws on a lifetime of knowledge to reveal how Earth’s vast, interconnected waterways can be restored.https://www.hulu.com/movie/ocean-with-david-attenborough-1d8f1a4a-72dc-4532-a0e0-d35daa00d3a7 This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Our current educational model isn’t broken—it’s doing exactly what it was designed to do: prepare children to succeed in a world built on the Four Great Untruths. But what if that’s the problem?Want more inspiration like this? Subscribe to join a movement reimagining the future—one story, one step, one spark at a time.Why Traditional Education Needs to EvolveLet’s start with a hard truth: the dominant model of education is not preparing young people for the world they’re inheriting. It was never designed to. Rooted in the industrial era and shaped by the Four Great Untruths (GUTs), today’s schools often serve as pipelines—not to purpose or wisdom, but to productivity, conformity, and consumerism. These GUTs include:* We Are Separate from NatureThis untruth underlies much of our educational design—students spend the majority of their time indoors, disconnected from the natural world. It reinforces the illusion that humans are observers of nature, not participants in it.* More Is Always BetterThe relentless pursuit of grades, test scores, and academic accolades fosters a scarcity mindset and undermines intrinsic motivation, creativity, and well-being. Students become driven to outperform, rather than collaborate and create.* The Earth’s Resources Are InfiniteMost schools fail to teach ecological literacy—how systems like water, energy, and biodiversity actually function. Without understanding planetary boundaries, students grow up unaware of the ecological crises unfolding around them.* Technology Will Save UsWhile innovation matters, over-reliance on technological fixes discourages critical thinking and disconnects us from embodied wisdom. True resilience comes not just from knowing how to code, but from knowing how to compost, conserve, and connect.But what if we flipped the script? What would it look like to educate young people from the foundation of the Four Great Truths (GTs). Let’s imagine such an education system:* InterconnectednessThis truth teaches that everything is connected. When students learn from ecosystems, they begin to see the invisible threads linking soil to seed, breath to tree, and self to society. Compassion and systems thinking emerge naturally.* SufficiencyEnough is a powerful concept. In classrooms grounded in sufficiency, the race to 'do more' gives way to depth, presence, and joy. Students learn to work with what they have—creatively and gratefully.* ReciprocityLearning becomes a mutual exchange. Students are not empty vessels to be filled but co-creators of knowledge. Service learning, peer teaching, and real-world projects model the give-and-take of thriving communities.* StewardshipPurpose guides education when stewardship is the norm. Students aren't just preparing for jobs—they're preparing to be caretakers of the Earth, each other, and the generations to come. Education becomes not just informative, but transformative.This kind of education fosters creativity, resilience, and regenerative thinking—not just for surviving the future, but for co-creating it.What if school helped you solve real-world problems, like saving the planet?Know a parent, teacher, or changemaker who needs to read this? Let’s spread the vision. Tap to share.Small-Scale, Experiential Education ModelsFortunately, this reimagining is already happening in pockets around the world.Forest SchoolsForest schools bring students outdoors in all seasons, engaging with the rhythms of the land. Children explore forests, build shelters, track animals, and learn to care for the Earth through immersion and play. These schools prioritize curiosity, resilience, and hands-on engagement. Learn more at Forest School Association.Waldorf EducationFounded by Rudolf Steiner, Waldorf education emphasizes imagination, creativity, and the integration of the arts with academics. Children learn through movement, music, handwork, and storytelling. Rooted in rhythms, relationship, and reverence, Waldorf aligns powerfully with the Great Truths by fostering inner development and ecological awareness. Explore further at Waldorf Education - AWSNA.Project-Based LearningProject-Based Learning (PBL) allows children to learn by doing—designing, building, questioning, and solving real-world problems. Whether it’s designing a sustainable house or launching a school recycling campaign, students take ownership of their education through inquiry and collaboration. A strong example is High Tech High, which uses PBL to connect learning with life.Indigenous Models of EducationMany Indigenous communities around the world practice educational models rooted in storytelling, ceremony, and learning from elders. These traditions honor the sacred interconnection of life and emphasize respect, reciprocity, and stewardship. Examples include the Hawaiian "Aloha ʻĀina" (love of the land) programs and the First Nations' "Land as Teacher" approach. Learn more at The Indigenous Education Institute.“Imagine your school was a garden, and you learned math by measuring plants and science by watching them grow.”These approaches aren’t perfect—but they offer living blueprints for what’s possible when we educate with nature instead of about it.What alternative models have you seen—or dreamed of—for educating our youth? I’d love to hear your thoughts below.The Role of Communities in EducationA regenerative education system can’t rely on schools alone. Communities must be co-creators in the learning journey. When we begin to see education as something that happens not just within classroom walls but across gardens, kitchens, repair shops, and gathering circles, we unlock a deeper potential in our children—and in ourselves.Intergenerational learning plays a vital role in this. Our elders carry wisdom forged through experience—stories of resilience, skills in growing food, repairing tools, caring for land, and navigating life without reliance on digital shortcuts. When children and teens learn alongside grandparents and mentors, they connect to a lineage of knowledge that no textbook can replicate.What if we asked: “What could our grandparents teach that our textbooks can’t?”Community gardens, repair cafes, and local maker spaces become living classrooms. These are places where curiosity meets utility—where math is used to design a compost bin, where science is discovered in soil health, and where creativity is sparked through shared problem-solving. In these environments, young people learn how to build, repair, grow, and give back—skills essential to a regenerative future.Emotional resilience, too, is cultivated in community. It comes from knowing you belong—from feeling rooted in a village that celebrates your gifts and supports your struggles. When children grow up surrounded by caring adults, authentic connection, and a shared commitment to the well-being of all, they are better prepared to face uncertainty with courage and compassion.Together, communities can become ecosystems of learning—where wisdom is shared, creativity is celebrated, and the next generation is raised not just to survive, but to thrive.Ecological Literacy as a Core SkillAs climate disruption accelerates, ecological literacy isn’t a luxury. It’s a survival skill.* Understand natural systems—water cycles, soil health, biodiversity.* Practice Earth skills—growing food, composting, harvesting rainwater.* Build planetary perspective—seeing oneself as part of, not apart from, the web of life.I’m learning so much from our Loving Homestead experiment. Both what’s working and what needs work. I’ve learned that at 76, I don’t have the same energy and endurance that I did at 43 when we first moved to the North Carolina mountains. At the same time, I’m so thankful for the health and vitality I enjoy. I’m discovering creating a food forest feeds my soul as much as it will eventually feed my body.Invitation to ShareAs I continue to grow my own emerging food forest, I’ll be sharing photos in this space. I’d love to see how you are living as an Eco-Guardian in your corner of the world. Whether it’s a community garden, a home compost system, or simply a moment of quiet connection with nature—snap a photo and share it in a Substack Note. Tag it with #EcoGuardian so we can find and celebrate each other’s work.Here’s how to do it:* Go to your Substack dashboard.* Click on “Notes.”* Start a new Note, upload your image, and add a caption or comment.* Tag it with #EcoGuardian so we can all see and amplify each other’s acts of care.Or if that’s a too much of a techy challenge, send me email me with the image(s) attached at [email protected]’s build this movement, one inspired image at a time.Help grow our visual library of regeneration. Share this post and tag a fellow Eco-Guardian who might contribute a pic too!Fostering Creativity and CollaborationFrom climate change to collapsing ecosystems, today’s problems won’t be solved by memorizing answers. They’ll be solved by imagining better questions.* Encourage unstructured exploration—mud kitchens, backyard bug hunts, painting with natural dyes, or hours of fort-building in the woods. Unstructured time builds imagination.* Celebrate collaborative learning—youth-led climate clubs, community art projects, or team challenges that require group problem-solving and cooperation.* Integrate arts and sciences, myth and math, logic and love—combine storytelling with science experiments, or use theater to explore ecological themes. Let learning engage the whole child.Reflection and InspirationWhat do you wish school had taught you about nature? What would it look like for your community to become a learning ecosystem? What’s one small step you could take to begin reimagining education where you live?“Education is not preparation for life. Education is life itself.” — John DeweyLet’s raise a generation not just ready for the world—but ready to remake it.Ready to be part of reimagining education and community? Subscribe to follow the journey—and share this if it moved you.Let’s spark a thousand conversations (and school gardens) from here. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Before the fireworks light up the sky, before the flags wave and the anthems echo, I invite you to take a breath with me. Not a performative one, not a patriotic puff of the chest—but a quiet, thoughtful breath. One that asks: What are we actually celebrating today? And perhaps more importantly: What do we want future generations to celebrate on this day a hundred years from now?A Meditation with the Mighty MuseI sat this morning in meditation—seeking clarity, grounding, perspective. I imagined I was in conversation with the Mighty Muse, that deep current of Cosmic Consciousness that has long whispered through the trees, flowed through rivers, and stirred the hearts of those willing to listen.And I asked:What might a truly liberated nation look like—one that honors all life, not just human life? What kind of freedom are we shaping with our daily choices, our politics, our parenting, our presence?What came was not a scolding, but an invitation. A gentle yet firm invitation to reflect, to reconnect, and to re-found what this country—and this world—might become.The Founding Fathers and the Seeds of Truth (and Untruth)Let’s give credit where it’s due. Many of the Founders, flawed and limited as they were, did tap into powerful ideas that mirrored what I now call the Four Great Truths (GTs):* Interconnectedness: Many early communities understood their lives depended on neighbors, land, and local systems.* Sufficiency: The American Revolution arose partly from frustration with royal excess. Simplicity and sufficiency had value.* Reciprocity: Self-governance emerged from the belief that rights come with responsibilities.* Stewardship: In agrarian life, land wasn’t just property—it was partnership.And yet, these Truths were quickly overshadowed by the Four Great Untruths (GUTs):* We Are Separate from Nature: Enslavement and land theft were justified by a belief in human superiority.* More Is Always Better: From manifest destiny to consumer culture, the drive for more became law.* The Earth’s Resources Are Infinite: Expansion never paused to ask what the land could bear.* Technology Will Save Us: Even then, there was a seduction in mechanization over mutuality.So here we are today—our cultural DNA a tangle of contradiction, potential, and peril.Fossil Fuels: The Hidden Architect of American PowerLet’s fast-forward to 1859. The first commercial oil well in Pennsylvania.That black liquid energy—so dense, so cheap, so powerful—poured fuel not only into engines but into entire worldviews. We stopped living off Earth’s "daily solar income" and began burning through her stored capital. Fossil fuels gave us highways, high-rises, global trade, industrial food… and the illusion that we were gods of endless growth.This changed everything. Including our politics.Cheap energy allowed us to externalize costs—ecological, emotional, and economic. It let us believe that distance erased consequence. And it built a political and economic system where those with access to the most energy (and money) could control the narrative.Even now, on this holiday, fossil fuels will power most of the fireworks shows, the traffic, the grills, the flights, the mass-produced flags…So again I ask: What are we really celebrating?Share Your Thoughts on This PostA New Declaration: Interdependence, Not Just IndependenceMaybe what we need isn’t a revolution, but a re-rooting. A return to the Great Truths:* Interconnectedness: We’re not above the web of life—we are the web of life. What harms one, harms all.* Sufficiency: There is enough—if we share wisely, live simply, and create systems rooted in equity.* Reciprocity: Rights and responsibilities go hand-in-hand. Democracy is not a spectator sport.* Stewardship: We are caretakers, not kings. Let us govern for the seventh generation.What might a political system rooted in these truths look like? Perhaps it would:* Prioritize the well-being of all species, not just human GDP.* Weigh policy based on long-term ecological health, not quarterly profits.* Replace extraction with regeneration.* Treat clean air, water, and soil as rights, not commodities.Call it Purposeful Politics. Call it Re-Founding America. Call it a dream.But if we don’t dream differently, we’re destined to keep repeating the same nightmares.So Where Do We Begin?We begin by not turning away. By refusing to let cynicism close our hearts. By reclaiming the power of civic imagination.Let’s talk with our kids—not just about fireworks but about why this land deserves our care. Let’s host intergenerational conversations about real freedom—the kind that includes Earth, the unseen, and the unborn. Let’s redefine patriotism as a love so deep, we’re willing to tell the truth about where we’ve been—and where we must go.Share This Post with a FriendMini-Mission: Redefine Your FreedomThis July 4th, I invite you to:* Light a candle in gratitude for Earth* Host a family “What is real freedom?” circle* Plant something. Literally. In soil.* Post a photo with the hashtag #EcoGuardian with your vision of freedom for all lifeLet’s make this Independence Day about interdependence. Let’s raise a new flag—one that doesn’t divide us by borders, but binds us through belonging.Share Your Eco-Guardian ActionFinal ReflectionWhat if our greatest patriotic act right now… is to grieve? To grieve the promises we’ve broken, the paths we’ve strayed from, the planet we’ve wounded.And then, to rise—not in anger, but in awe. In purpose. In One Cause—to become the ancestors future generations will thank.Let’s become citizens not just of nations—but of Life itself.P.S. I will be returning to our regular One Cause exploration next week with an in depth look at the role education and community plays in our regenerative future based on the 4 Great Truths.Unleashed - W. Bradford Swift is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe

Last week, I shared a personal TED talk-style exploring the deeper roots of the climate crisis—not just as an ecological emergency, but as a crisis of belief.Today, in Part Two, I invite you to turn toward the path of healing and regeneration. This video introduces the Four Great Truths—ancient, enduring principles that offer a new foundation for how we might live, love, and lead forward.These truths aren’t abstract theories.They’re how life actually works when it’s in right relationship.And they’re the compass behind everything I’m doing with the One Cause Project.I’ve also decided that now is the right moment to share something even more personal: my Vow to the One Cause Experiment—a declaration I read each morning and evening, and one that defines how I want to live the rest of my life. You’ll find it below this introduction. If it speaks to you, I invite you to sit with it… maybe even speak it aloud or accept my invitation into the One Cause world.And again, if these videos move you, feel free to share them—or even nominate me to speak on the TED stage using this link.We need more truth in the world.We need more voices rising not in fear, but in care, courage, and commitment.Thank you for being one of those voices.Watch Part Two above. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wbradfordswift.substack.com/subscribe