A Change of Era Part 3

A riff about unified perspective

I’m sharing this a week and a half later than planned. When I started this series, I had a clear direction in mind. Before even posting the introduction, I had already written Part 2 about Jack the Ripper’s London and drafted Parts 3 and 4. Originally, Part 3 was nearly 3000 words linking the events of 1888 to present-day issues. But this is not going to be that Part 3. Considering I’m writing about change, it seems only fitting that I depart from the original plan. In Part 1, I said it’s too easy to distance ourselves from what happens around us, but in revisiting everything I’d written, I realised it’s just as easy to distance ourselves from what happens inside of us, while simultaneously being self-obsessed.

One of the reasons we focus so much on external examples is that each of us has a unique and personal relationship with change. This is something I’m acutely aware of when I do tarot readings for the collective. One message can be interpreted in countless ways, depending on who’s watching. This is why personal readings are such a different beast. Before we can even discuss what needs to change, we must first understand what change means to us individually. That’s why I’m calling this a riff—a collection of random thoughts that have surfaced as I’ve been reflecting on change.

The first question that arises is: when we talk about change, what do we actually mean? Some things don’t change, and that’s true. I’ve often heard tribalism used as an excuse to explain why xenophobia and racism are ‘natural.’ Yes, certain reactions and behaviours may be hardwired into our biology, but how we express them is a choice. I recently watched a podcast featuring neuroscientist and primatologist Robert Sapolsky, where he discussed this very idea. The host explored how our tribal instincts naturally lead us to align with people who look like us, behave like us, and share our cultural indoctrination. The host continued that whether we choose to act on racist impulses or manage to keep them in check largely depends on our ability to access our prefrontal cortex.

Sapolsky expands on this by explaining that humans, like other primates, are incredibly quick to distinguish between ‘us’ and ‘them.’ This tendency is hardwired, and even infants as young as ten months old display it. But here’s the thing—this instinctual categorisation isn’t inherently about race. Sapolsky points out that race, as we understand it, is a relatively recent and biologically flimsy concept, only a few tens of thousands of years old, which is practically nothing in evolutionary terms. For most of human history, the furthest person you’d encounter lived only a few valleys over and looked very much like you. Racial distinctions, then, are surface-level and easily manipulated. In contrast, categories like sex differences are deeply ingrained, having existed for billions of years. Sapolsky suggests that while it’s probably impossible to entirely eliminate the ‘us versus them’ mindset, we can change the categories we use about ourselves and others, making them less harmful. The goal isn’t to get rid of this dichotomy but to defuse it by focusing on less divisive distinctions. So, how are we categorising ourselves, and what do those categories mean to us? It’s crucial to ask that question because it speaks directly to how we ‘other’ those who don’t fit into our chosen categories—and humans are not known for being kind to those they ‘other’.

Sometimes, when I talk about change, I’m actually referring to improvement. But right now, I’m focusing on evolvement, growth, moving from one state to another without judgement. I’ve seen in my own life that sometimes, the best long-term outcomes come from steps that don’t necessarily feel like improvements at the time. At a material level, my life has been in constant flux since the day I was born. My body has changed since I was a baby. My relationships with my parents, siblings, and lifelong friends have changed. People have come and gone, and my desires have shifted at various points in my life. How I think has changed; what my feelings mean has changed. In many ways, as humans alive today, we witness far more change than our ancestors did. For much of history, changes were too slow to be noticed by individuals within those societies. As David Deutsch explains, yes, there were short-lived rapid changes like famine, war, and plagues, but areas such as personal lifestyles, moral values, conceptual frameworks, and technologies largely remained the same, shifting by increments. We can’t say that about our own lifetimes, especially in terms of technology. In this sense, the rate at which change happens has been accelerating, so it makes sense that at some point, the systems or structures by which we navigate our lives become too unstable to manage the sheer volume of change that has occurred. Hence, a change of era, rather than an era of change.

I also know this: for me to recognise or perceive a change of era—or at the very least, a need for one—in the external world, the same must be true in my personal life. I spend a lot of time in videos talking about the personal, and yes, everything will always come back to the self, but that doesn’t mean it has to be just about the self. Increasingly, I’m less convinced that our life purpose or reason for being here is solely about ourselves. In fact, there’s plenty of evidence to suggest that we’re happiest when we live in service to something greater than ourselves, be that a cause, a group of people, or an idea. I don’t mean that we should all go around engaged in ‘selfless acts’, as just focusing on what we do can lead to selfish acts or martyrdom. Both defeat the purpose, and everybody loses. The way we frame and think about things must be the very first act in transitioning to a change of era. Put simply—things can’t mean what they’ve always meant, and the processes for assigning meaning must also change. Instead of just talking about this, I’m going to show you.

How often do we see science and spirituality pitted against each other, with physics and metaphysics framed as opposing arguments? I’ve long held the view that we’re all saying the same thing, just in different ways. At the very least we are all describing the same experience. Even when it seems like we’re not, perhaps it’s because we haven’t spent enough time with the seemingly opposing arguments to see how they might actually align. Here’s an example: determinism and free will are often seen as two sides of the same coin. But I don’t see them as opposing. Let’s start with determinism.

Biological determinism posits that human behaviour, personality, and social characteristics are primarily or entirely shaped by biological factors such as genetics, brain structure, and hormones. It suggests that our actions and decisions are largely predetermined by these innate influences, leaving little room for the impact of environment, culture, or individual free will. This concept often underpins arguments that reduce complex human behaviours to mere outcomes of biological predispositions, implying that our lives are largely set by our biology from birth.

Metaphysical soul contracts, on the other hand, are the belief that before incarnating into a physical body, souls make agreements or ‘contracts’ that outline the major experiences, challenges, and relationships they will encounter in their lifetime. These contracts are thought to be made with the intention of spiritual growth and learning, guiding the soul through predetermined lessons that help it evolve. This concept suggests that significant events and connections in life are not random but are the fulfilment of these pre-birth agreements, with the soul choosing its path in alignment with its greater spiritual purpose.

So, science vs spirituality—do these concepts seem like opposing arguments? To me, they’re opposing ways of arriving at the same conclusion. (I tend to see many things this way; racism and anti-racism is another example I could give you.) While determinists argue that everything is the result of prior causes and natural laws, proponents of metaphysical soul contracts claim that life’s events are guided by pre-arranged agreements made by the soul before birth. In both views, all occurrences are seen as part of an intentional or necessary sequence, even if the connections between events aren’t immediately apparent to us. They also bring into question how responsible we are for what we do if we’re subject to these influences.

Free will is often presented as the ability to make choices and decisions independently, without being entirely determined by external forces such as biology, fate, or divine intervention. It implies that humans have the power to act according to their own volition, exercising personal agency in shaping their lives and outcomes. Free will is often seen as the capacity to choose among different options, where those choices are not entirely preordained or dictated by prior causes, allowing for genuine autonomy and responsibility in human actions.

At one time, I would have clearly seen all these concepts as distinct. I would have dug in, done my research, picked the one that confirmed my unconscious bias—whether that was what I wanted to be true, aligned with other judgments I held, or simply the one I felt I knew the most about and could defend in a debate, massaging my self-righteous ego in the process. Here’s what changed for me, and it’s part of my own change of era: more often than not, when I hear something, I ask, “OK, so how are all these true?” Not necessarily true for me, not whether I agree or disagree, but what would be the story or the thread that connects all these ideas, even disparate ones?

So if someone asked me if I believed in determinism, soul contracts, or free will, I’d have a fundamental issue with the way these concepts are framed. Why either/or? Why do I have to pick just one? Why can’t they all be true? They all exist, don’t they? We’re talking about concepts here, but this is an important way of processing information because I think it also applies to how we deal with each other. The Leo-Aquarius axis represents the balance between individual self-expression and contributing to the collective. Leo is about developing a unique identity, while Aquarius focuses on how that individuality serves the broader community. Together, they highlight that personal growth and collective progress are interconnected, showing that we don’t have to choose between self and society—both are essential and complementary. This means that while I am beyond frustrated and often sickened by the versus mentality that pervades much of social interaction these days, I understand that too exists and is part of this. To get even more personal, I have plenty of people in my life who might not align with the qualities I personally favour (being supportive, kind, open-minded, considerate of others, curious, etc.), but my immediate response isn’t to remove the unpleasantness from my life. They exist, don’t they? In some ways, these people have become massive parts of my own growth, evolution, change, and yes, improvement. I understand and love some of them dearly, even if I’ve had to manage my interactions with them—considering their nature and my own, and our shared nature. If I had seen them as the problem, I would have missed out on all of that. For ten years now, I’ve referred to this as learning to swim. (It comes from advice I once gave someone: “If you want to learn how to swim, go swim with the sharks.”)

Let’s consider that whether through biology, physics, soul contracts, God, or even the idea that we live in a simulation, the universe and everything within it could be seen as predetermined. As individuals, we’re never privy to the full scope of that predetermined plan. Whether I’m a soul inhabiting a ‘meat suit’ or simply a collection of natural impulses, I can never fully perceive the deterministic structure that may govern my life. Yet, in my day-to-day experience, I perceive that I have agency. This sense of agency, this feeling that I can choose, is what I experience as free will. It’s the lens through which I navigate my life, regardless of whether my choices are ultimately shaped by prior causes, soul contracts, or some other cosmic order.

So, what about unpredictability? Even if the universe operates under a grand deterministic scheme, from my limited human perspective, it’s impossible to predict most outcomes with absolute certainty. This unpredictability is not necessarily a refutation of determinism, but rather a reflection of the complexity and scale of the systems at play—systems that are far beyond my ability to fully comprehend. In this sense, unpredictability becomes a part of my experience of free will; it’s the space where my perceived choices play out, where the unknowns keep the game of life dynamic and engaging.

In essence, while everything might be predetermined in some larger framework, my lived experience is one of navigating choices, facing uncertainties, and making decisions in a world where outcomes are never fully guaranteed. This doesn’t diminish the possibility of a grand design; it simply highlights the way I, as an individual, engage with that design—through the choices I make and the unpredictable outcomes that follow. This dual awareness of determinism and free will, predictability and unpredictability, forms the core of how I experience and interact with the world.

In this sense, it all resonates with me. In fact, more and more in my life, I think just about everything resonates on some level. Why? Because everything has a relationship to everything else, and it’s about finding the most balanced or harmonious relationships, even between the most disparate parts. I mean this in my thinking, my feelings, and all my outer relationships. By balanced and harmonious, I don’t mean peaceful, effortless, free of friction, or controlled, but rather co-existing and recognising that the relationship speaks to the impact all things have on each other.

I want to leave this one right here because next time I want to show what happens when we try to make the world more predictable. But as a final word, I’d say that unless we can see the relationships between even the most different ways of thinking, we’ll struggle to find ways to work with one another, especially in an era of rapid change like our own. I’d also like to invite you to offer up other ‘either/or’ and versus scenarios—go as controversial as you like. If they’re interesting and if I know anything about them, I’ll explore their relationships to each other.