The systems and institutions of society are not living up to their promises. That might be old news for you. Or it might be a recent revelation. Either way, after noticing the things aren’t as we were lead to believe, it’s worth taking a closer look. Are we dealing with surficial cracks in the paint that could be patched and restored? Or are we seeing the evidence of deep structural flaws? Put differently, do we need to confront the fact that honestly made and long-upheld principles and promises are suddenly being broken? Or is it time to reckon with the fact that those same principles and promises we always dishonestly proffered?
If we accept – or even strongly suspect – that human-made systems aren’t working well and are leading us somewhere we’d rather not go, we might be tempted to pursue significant, large scale, rapid and transformative reform of the system. But after so many decades of clamoring for action on an array of important issues, we also must admit that the massive shifts needed are unlikely, if not impossible, to bring about at the pace of worsening crisis or in the face of regression. This admission is not one of defeat. Rather, it is an invitation to stop trying to change, repair, or redeem “the system”) and, instead, build a new world in the shell of the old.
Taking matters into our own hands involves rebuilding cultures of commoning and cooperation. It also means not waiting for anyone to come save the day. We must take care of each other and get to work. As the old world crumbles and cracks, we can discard the parts that no longer serve us, we can take the pieces that work and start rebuilding the world we want to live in, here and now. This is a task of trusting that other worlds are possible – even if they straddle or hover just beyond the edges of our current imaginative capacity. It is also about committing to doing the work to build with who and what we have immediately around us. And it requires courageously accepting (perhaps even embracing, uncertainty – surrendering to the reality that we cannot know what our new world(s) will be or bring, recognizing that we are in the slipstream, doing the work of generations. It begins when we we show up, whether overwhelmed or undaunted and trust that “[w]e know what we need to do. We need to build the sequel, to draw inspiration which has lain dormant, like the seed beneath the snow.” (David Fleming)