We live in a world of artificial intelligence, nuclear weapons, and environmental instability; yet finding solutions to the conflicts threatening civilization may begin much closer to home.
A World Under Strain
We are living in a frightening moment in human history, one that can feel like a cosmic overturning. We may feel overwhelmed and defeated; we might believe that individual effort is pointless and ineffective in the face of multiple profound challenges. And yet here we are, like it or not.
Conflict itself is not new. What is new is that, in the world we now inhabit, many genuinely wonder whether humanity can survive.
We face several existential threats at once: the dizzying speed of artificial intelligence infiltrating our lives, challenging not only our jobs, our sense of meaning and purpose, but feeding a fear of being replaced; nuclear weapons which can be deployed at the discretion of a handful of self-serving individuals; and the relentless destabilization of the natural systems that sustain us, warming oceans that can disrupt the food supply, adversely effecting fish and agriculture, and bringing rising seas to inundate coastal cities.
Yet, emotionally and politically, we continue to behave as we always have done: driven by ancient fears and greed; we remain reactive and seek security within our tribe.
As the biologist Edward O. Wilson observed:
“The real problem of humanity is the following: we have Paleolithic emotions, medieval institutions, and godlike technology. And it is terrifically dangerous, and it is now approaching a point of crisis overall.”
The Question
And so the question: What can I do?
As a society, we have attempted solutions to soften the impact of climate change; we have treaties to help prevent nuclear annihilation. These efforts appear to have been abandoned. We could create laws to ensure that AI serves humanity rather than the other way around, but without political will, this seems unlikely.
But it is not too late to prepare for a better future.
Certainly, we can’t rely on solutions from our leadership; they seem unequal to the moment.
It really is up to us.
The Stories We Live By
We grow up inside belief systems passed on by our elders, but we are even more profoundly shaped by what we experience. From those inputs, we develop a narrative about how the world works. By adulthood, we act from what we believe we know and what we think we desire, projecting those assumptions onto the world around us. In this way, we continuously create and recreate the world we inhabit, reinforcing our worldview. The child of an alcoholic may marry an alcoholic. Or a teetotaler.
And let’s face it: most of us are inwardly divided. We are filled with conflicting desires, pressured by external demands and by our own internal narratives. Often, we turn our inward division outward to hatred, as if sacrificing another might ensure our safety.
Very few of us possess a deep and stable calm.
We know that in our own lives, anger rises faster than understanding, and sometimes calcifies into resentment. We can feel outrage at items in the news without knowing the story’s accuracy. We divide the world into those who think and look like us — and those who don’t. One thing is clear:
We are working from a familiar playbook, and it has brought us to this very dangerous point.”
Looking Closer to Home
What if –instead— we could bring ourselves into greater internal alignment and generate a peace within us that gradually spreads outward into the lives of others in our circle.
Can calm and kindness be as contagious as anxiety and demonization?
The means of achieving deep calm are available to every human being.
Like most people, I carried many competing and contradictory forces within myself. I had desires I barely understood, alongside a longing to find and express my true self, though I had little idea what that self actually was, and absolutely no idea of how to find it.
At the same time, there were the expectations of family, community, and institutions, standards I felt I was somehow failing to meet.
And there was the advice of others: ‘This is how it is. What do you expect?”
And then there was Jesus’ advice: “Seek and ye shall find. Knock, and the door will be opened.”
I decided to follow the wise advice, even though I had no idea whether what I was looking for even existed.
Inside me, there were constant arguments: Why can’t I be like everyone else? Why can’t I be satisfied with material success? What would make me less restless? What do I want? What’s my problem?
I often felt like a square peg in a round hole.
Looking at others, I imagined they possessed some secret for navigating the world. They seemed to know how to “go along to get along,” while I fumbled my way through life.
Learning to Observe
At a certain point, the discomfort became untenable, and I decided to use my own life, my own struggles, as my lesson plan. I began observing myself— my thoughts, reactions, and motivations. Although I’d never heard of them at the time, these were the teachings of the Stoics. In trying to understand my experience, I realized something simple: the conflict I saw in my world did not begin out there. It began inside me.
Encouraged by my insight, I worked slowly and deliberately toward inner steadiness through meditation and self-observation. The work was gradual, but the result was worth the effort.
What I discovered surprised me.
Many of the things I had been chasing did not fundamentally interest me. I was chasing other people’s dreams.
When I began observing my specific behaviors and thought patterns in the moment they occurred, without harsh judgment, without analytics, simply with a noticing, those patterns lost their grip on me, and something slowly began to change.
I began to settle.
Gradually, authentic desires emerged, desires that actually belonged to me rather than those sold to me by others. I became less defensive. I became calmer and happier.
I also discovered something else: it was possible to hold opposing forces within myself without being torn apart by them.
Because I am one person and I have a core, I can accept that there is noise and dissonance, but I don’t have to live there. I can contain many voices, impulses, fears, and ambitions. I can respond to external demands and internal demands—without losing my balance.
This change did not occur through any miracle. It happened through careful observation, examining my thoughts and reactions with honesty and compassion, with discipline over time.
There is even a principle in quantum mechanics that states that observation itself alters what is being observed.
Gradually, through my practice, I became more integrated, more peaceful, and more capable of hearing viewpoints very different from my own.
And this brings me back to the world.
From Inner Conflict to Outer Conflict
What happens inside us does not remain private. It is projected outward.
“We but mirror the world. All the tendencies present in the outer world are to be found in the world of our body. If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a. man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. This is the divine mystery supreme. A wonderful thing it is, and the source of our happiness. We need not wait to see what others do.” — Mahatma Gandhi
Inner conflict becomes political conflict. Personal resentment becomes collective hostility. Our need for safety through beliefs in our superiority becomes domination and exploitation.
“Why can’t we all just get along?” — Rodney King, commenting on the L.A. Riots, 1992
The way to effect change is to change oneself.
Where the Work Begins
If we continue throwing bombs at one another, ignoring environmental collapse, and racing forward with technologies we barely understand, the destination is clear.
Thoughtful opinions alone will not resolve the dilemmas we now face. Nor will demonizing those who disagree with us. Nor will hatred directed toward marginalized peoples help us. When such hatreds intensify, it is often a sign that something deeper in society is under threat. Hatreds are like canaries in a coal mine, warning us of danger ahead.
Perhaps not all of the unfolding catastrophes can be avoided. But if enough of us undertake the patient work of understanding ourselves—becoming steadier, less reactive, less driven by fear and hostility—a new consciousness may emerge.
And it may prove contagious.
Perhaps your work begins exactly where mine did: closer to home.
Commit to discovering who you truly are. Explore and accept your complex, contradictory humanity with compassion and loving kindness. Notice your reactions, your assumptions, the quick judgments, the tightening of the body, the impulse to divide, the internal arguments that rush to defend and justify.
If you can pause your mind, even briefly, the silence will allow for other possibilities to emerge.
This may seem like a not terribly important effort, but it is not. It brings us greater happiness and quietly spreads calm and kindness to those around us.
From such small beginnings, a new level of consciousness can grow. And in that light, we may discover how to live together—and how to make peace with ourselves, with one another, and with the Earth we share.
We create our future with the choices we make in the present moment.
©2026 Shulamit Elson