As Eckhart Tolle wrote 20 years ago in his book A New Earth, life is changing.
We are living in a time of shifting consciousness. This has always been the case—generation after generation, our understanding evolves. As we grow, we often look back and realize that many of our past beliefs were incorrect. Thirty years ago, we underestimated the dangers of smoking, dismissed the hole in the ozone layer as insignificant, and believed computers could never rival the power of the human brain. Hindsight often gives us a clearer perspective.
However, it was those earlier beliefs and actions that paved the way for where we are today. We had to see things as we did back then to understand them as we do now.
Human growth follows a pattern of expanding our understanding of potential. The limits we once placed on human consciousness are being surpassed. Do you remember your eagerness to learn as a child? My 13-year-old constantly amazes me with her insatiable curiosity. Whether it’s writing, philosophy, analyzing the behavior of her friends (and herself), or pondering the mysteries of the universe and the human brain, her drive to understand is boundless.
For many of us, this drive diminishes as we transition from school to the workforce. While we continue learning in new ways—refining skills, taking on responsibilities, and deepening relationships—our formal education often slows significantly.
The human brain is evolving. Our ways of perceiving and processing information are changing. We have the potential to grow in ways that may seem futuristic, but they are becoming our reality. This evolving world requires each of us to actively participate.
This new way of learning will be challenging, perhaps as difficult as mastering quantum physics (unless you’re already skilled in that; if so, think of something equally demanding). It will require patience and resilience to absorb, process, and transform new information into understanding. The challenges will be so intense that giving up may feel tempting, and avoiding the effort to learn may seem like an easy escape.
Think of learning a new language—how mentally taxing it is, how much effort it requires, and how much extra rest your brain needs when grappling with something so demanding. This is the level of effort required to adapt to the new earth.
Those who struggle to trust or listen to others and those who cling tightly to control will first need to recognize these tendencies. Then, they must bravely practice letting go, allowing themselves to be guided in ways that require deep trust.
This is a pivotal moment. It will be easy to lose ourselves in technology and direct our focus there. However, we’ve come to understand that this can numb us to life and create barriers to meaningful connection with others.
With this understanding, what do we do as we emmerge through this evolution? I wish it could be a simple answer, in truth, I don’t beleive any of us have an answer, I think that would be too arrogant of us to make such an ascertion. Yet, it’s possible we can look at it with a different lense. There’s a craze to the rapid movement of technology and information, a feeling of scarcity, that if we slow down, we’re going to miss out.
I’m inclined to look at it differently. Through my own life lived and decades of study and teaching yoga, meditation, trauma work, IFS (internal family systems), animism, and mythosomatic practices etc. I’ve come to understand that we are more skillful listeners, digestors, explorers, parents, friends, partners when we slow down. When we allow the ecology of information to move through us, reconsctruct our understandings and embrace the spaces in between certainty.
I’ve come to see that slowness is our greatest teacher, her rhythes pull out our impatience, intollerance, discomfort, distain, irreverence and more. She embraces us with stuckness and teases us with the stillness of darkness. All of which are profound teachers, beyond any techonology meant to steal our attention and billionairs that profit off of our discomfort of going slow.
With this understanding, how do we navigate this evolution? I wish there were a simple answer. In truth, I don’t believe any of us have the complete answer. Claiming otherwise would be overly presumptuous. However, we can approach it from a different perspective. There is a frenzy in the rapid movement of technology and information, accompanied by a feeling of scarcity—as if slowing down means we’ll miss out.
I see it differently. Based on my own life experiences and decades of studying and teaching yoga, meditation, trauma work, Internal Family Systems (IFS), animism, and mythosomatic practices, I’ve learned that we become better listeners, learners, explorers, parents, friends, and partners when we slow down. When we allow the flow of information to move through us, reshape our understanding, and embrace the gaps between certainty, we truly grow.
I’ve realized that slowness is our most valuable teacher. Her rhythms expose our impatience, intolerance, discomfort, disdain, and irreverence. She confronts us with stagnation and tempts us with the stillness of darkness. These are profound lessons—far beyond anything offered by technologies vying for our attention or by billionaires profiting from our resistance to slowing down.
Distraction is possibly the biggest trickster—a force that pulls us away from the transformative power of slowing down. Often, we convince ourselves that our distractions are important, but this is frequently a reflection of our craving for validation and self-importance. In truth, the areas that make us most uncomfortable are where wisdom is waiting to be discovered. Our excuses for being unreliable or inconsistent act as temporary salves, soothing the discomfort caused by our distracted behaviors.
By connecting to the natural world, we gain the tools needed to adapt to this shifting consciousness. Spending time in stillness within nature allows our bodies to integrate new information and align with our psyches. We cannot fully process these changes while tethered to devices and distracted by the demands of everyday life. The only way to embrace this wisdom is by listening to the language of the planet—asking her for guidance and learning to recognize her subtle communications. She reminds us that she is in charge, and if we want to truly understand ourselves in this changing world, we must reconnect with her, not rely on technology.
All I can offer is the suggestion to approach ourselves with tenderness as we navigate these profound shifts in humanity—some of the most significant changes we have ever experienced.
with love, Noelle