11. Steadying choices big and small for our future
What if the future is shaped not by grand visions, policies, company takeovers or war, but instead by small, deliberate choices we all might make today?
Where did last week’s issue go?
I didn’t post last week, as I was moving house, and didn’t have the headspace to truly think this issue out. Each post takes a week to percolate and a day to write. While I’ll have to get faster, I want to make sure each is as clear as I can make it. The good news - I’m going to give you an extra post over the weekend to make up for it. ;-)
New here?
You might want to read this post which gives a brief background what we’re trying to do…
Let’s get to work shaping our future!
Now we have a sense of direction in our southern star story, this time let’s consider how choices might keep us on track. Today’s posts harks back to the Vietnam War from a different perspective, zooms to today with a gentle pause and welcomes our newest human.
First, a welcome
On Monday, our inaugural Gen2200 founding member, Marnie, welcomed her fifth grandchild, Jasmine. Little Jasmine is a perfect example of the value of multigenerational work.
When I think about Jasmine’s great-great-grandchildren, it strikes me that Gen2200 isn’t just about abstract ideas—it’s about the choices we make now, choices that ripple forward into the world they will inherit.
Marnie is my best friend from school days. She’s special to the Gen2200 story. It’s in considering our youth that this work is so important to me. We experienced some terrible, tragic, unhealthy cultures and times that young people should not be exposed to.
If I cast my imagination forward, I can’t picture a world where some of our deepest troubles haven’t been resolved. They must be. Will climate change still be a looming crisis or a historic fact in 2200? Will we still have bigotry and homophobia? I doubt it. Racism? Uh-ah! Systemic child abuse? No way.
This raises a question. If it is indeed the case that by 2200 one or more of these terrible things have resolved, then what did we do to achieve this? What actions did we take, big and little?
Bringing a baby into the world is a big step, a massive investment in the future. That’s a huge positive action. But not all steps need to be big to contribute to a better future.
I’ve shared a bit of my Tread Lightly experiment with you, and I reckon that trip does show a belief in the future. I couldn’t have done it without that nagging belief that there was something out there for me. Otherwise, why bother, right?
But does it always have to be something big, like having babies or going on experimental trips? Not at all. I encountered a great example this week.
Pause for thought
On Tuesday, I joined a regular online meeting, and it was charged with energy—reactive, intense. The group was grappling with the implications of the U.S. election, the potential (or actual) for AI to individualise election material and even propaganda, and the effects of algorithms on our ability to think clearly.
Have you felt that kind of tension recently, where the stakes run high, everyone has an opinion, but nothing is likely to change?
The discussion spiralled. Words like good and evil bounced around. I joined in eagerly—raising my yellow Zoom hand, raving on with my perfectly valid opinion, and piling my two cents onto a conversation going nowhere. It was like we were running on a rickety bridge, loudly complaining it would collapse at any minute.
Then something unusual happened. Something I’d never experienced before.
The moment I stopped speaking, the facilitator raised his hand, facing his palm gently towards the camera in a gesture to pause. He then wisely, brilliantly, made an announcement that shocked me and the others into stillness.
‘Let’s pause for a minute. You’re all talking over each other with your own pieces of the puzzle, and the main discussion is buried. Let’s sit in silence to process and reflect.’
For the next 30 seconds—or maybe a full minute—there was silence.
I had to check my ego. Was it about me? No, it wasn’t. It was all of us. The whole group had been off-kilter.
We sat staring at each other’s faces on the square screens in awkward silence. And in that minute, something shifted.
The intentionally created space steadied us. It was almost as if the words, which had been like heavy uneven footsteps between us, now dropped unevenly and without rhythm to the ground. The bridge steadied and stopped swaying. I was now safe.
When the silence ended, I didn’t speak again—I remained quiet and, instead, listened. A few others did too. The conversation that followed was calmer, intentional, and ultimately meaningful.
That small impact of a hand in the air and a gentle call for a pause got us off our high horses and reset the group to listening.
The first person to speak after the quiet had lifted, summed up where we were at: ‘It sounds like many here are still processing the election.’
I nodded. I understood what I’d arrived into. They were processing. There was a ‘process’ going on. As an Australian, not an American, it wasn’t my process. There was no point speaking my two cents worth. It was a waste of breath. I just needed to listen—to bear witness. Which I then did.
In that way for me, and probably differently for others, the pause altered the immediate future and redirected each of us toward a better outcome.
Acting as if the future exists
When someone pauses—or takes any action—it shows a belief in the future. They can shape the next moment with their action (or inaction).
The big things, like having babies. The medium things, like embarking on a Tread Lightly experiment. The small things, like redirecting a conversation. All of them show ‘faith’ in a better future.
I didn’t really understand the concept of ‘faith’ at first. As a non-believer brought up strictly Catholic, faith never resonated with me. I simply didn’t believe in it.
A few years ago, my leadership coach told me I need to have it. I’d done a lot of ‘work’ to set myself in a certain direction. Back then, I didn’t really understand, but I trusted her so I mentally channelled faith as the George Michael song.
Slowly, cos these things take me time to work through, I realised faith wasn’t just about religion. It’s about people, ourselves, and future.
‘Faith’ is a little different to ‘hope’. Hope can feel fragile. We hold out hope that a missing person will turn up alive. They may or may not. Faith is knowing they will.
For me, faith is a certainty. When I lose my way, I remind myself: the southern star is still there. I just need to pause and look up. I have faith that it remains—and it does.
You can’t make faith up. You feel it.
The Stockdale Paradox
In the early pandemic, I came across the ‘Stockdale Paradox’ in Jim Collins’ Good to Great.
Admiral Stockdale, who endured seven years of captivity during the Vietnam War, observed that blind optimism wasn’t enough. When asked who didn’t survive, he explained it was the ‘Optimists’:
Instead, Stockdale proposed two principles for navigating uncertainty in tough times:
Confront the brutal facts of your reality, and
Maintain unwavering faith that you will prevail in the end.
The world is full of brutal facts. Facing them and trusting we’ll prevail is within our means. But how?
From pause to progress
Small, deliberate choices can shift trajectories—of conversations, of communities, even of futures.
Think about your own version of a pause. Is it stepping back in a heated moment? Reaching out to someone you’ve lost touch with? Or taking time to reflect on the kind of future you want to help create?
Each choice is a seed. And while we might never see the full forest it becomes, we can trust the roots will grow.
A hint of action
So welcome, baby Jasmine. You are a reminder that the world will endure and that we might make it a little better—not just for you, but for your great-great-grandchildren.
The work ahead isn’t exhausting; it’s intentional. One step at a time, with our eyes, minds and hearts open, we can build the future we want. It’s about treading lightly, and building the future we want, one step (or pause) at a time.
What will your next step be?
Let me know in the comments what resonates most for you. This isn’t just my journey—it’s ours. Who’s in?
Ways to connect
1. Comment on your experiences with Gen2200 principles or your own Tread Lightly Experiment
2. Share… this post with someone who might be inspired by these ideas.
3. Follow Along for more stories and reflections as we move towards Gen2200.
Want more?
Want to work with me? Or seeking Generative AI guidance for professionals and solopreneurs: Jax@gen2200.com.
My photos: Flickr
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"When someone pauses—or takes any action—it shows a belief in the future. They can shape the next moment with their action (or inaction)." A lovely insight. And I loved that anecdote about the facilitator raising his hand - such a great reminder (especially to those of us who facilitate) of the power of quietness.