BGCL explores what it means to rewild and to come back into connection with ourselves, our communities, and the living world around us. Read on for ideas and reflections to inspire new ways of being in a complex world. 💚
Hello wild ones,
We have entered the autumn season, and I feel the intensity of the past summer easing. Long summer days always push me to my edges and I feel the urge to go and do. But now, my body is shifting into a lower gear. It is ready to get cozy, decline invitations, watch movies with the kids, make soups, and snuggle down with my notebook and leaning tower of books.
Outside, the final round of fruits are ripening—I am seeing trees flush with pears and apples as I drive around the island. After some late summer rains, the land is looking lush and full, with the expected signs of strain from the summer heat. The trees are getting ready to do their final show of color, and I am watching with apprehension the towering big leaf maples prepare to release an abundance of leaves and seeds like earth confetti.
This is the final hoorah before the party shifts to the earth, where the slugs, snails and fungi gleefully take on their role to compost all that’s left back into the soil. Without sadness or remorse, they usher in death and decay. Their task is to feast on the final bounty until it becomes literal (garden) bed rot. We are about to witness nature’s annual recycling program kick into high gear. The culminating phase that lays the foundation of fertile ground for whatever is to come next.
Seasons of Systems
Watching the seasons transition outside reminds me that this circular path shows up in all parts of life, big and small. It is a rising, falling, and reimagining. Our human lifecycles follow this path, and within our lives, we see it in relationships, daily rhythms, and life-long pursuits. This same pattern extends to the structures we create, such as organizations, institutions, ideas, and paradigms.
One of the most fascinating things I took away from earning a Masters Organizational Development is that every single organization has a lifecycle, just like a living being. They go through predictable seasons of birth, growth, maturing, decline, death, and rebirth. Learning this was comforting at a time when I was disillusioned by working in the pharma / biotech industry. I found peace in knowing that all big, powerful things eventually tire so a new thing can emerge.
At a larger scale, this pattern shows up in democracies throughout history, repeating the similar phases of expansion and contraction over an average lifespan of 200 years. They build, expand, and decline—leaving fertile ground for new systems. This particular moment in our history feels like we are living through the decay of democracy. We are repeating patterns of decline that have been seen throughout time: deep levels of oppression, economic instability, global violence, political unrest, environmental changes, and division on all fronts.
We are witnessing the waning of systems designed under the false pretense of an eternal summer. We are confronting the inaccurate story that we need not slow down, integrate, or rest. Politicized attempts to return to a former version of our broken systems ignore the truth that all cycles must end. But the completion of one cycle is not simply an ending followed by nothingness. Just like autumn, a releasing of the old is an invitation to reset. It is a beautiful, messy, raw, and sacred deconstruction of the past and initiation of a new cycle of great potential.
Endings and Beginnings
There are different perspectives globally that give shape to this moment of systemic failures and the possibilities that they create. Some focus heavily on the devastation, consequences, and flaws in the human condition. Others focus on the emergence of something new, and offer proactive guidance to empower bold new directions. Both offer systemic views to help make sense of this liminal space between cycle endings and new beginnings.
From a western geological perspective, this period of time is sometimes referred to as the anthropocene, where the negative impacts of humans are cited as the cause the collapse of the natural world. In some ways, it feels good to cast blame for the devastation on the planet and carry the burden of shame for wrongdoing. However, this view alone perpetuates the narrative that humans are separate from nature. It centers our feelings of guilt and despair over our interrelatedness and accountability to the whole.
Other models emphasize what emerges after cycles come to a close. These more generative perspectives frame this moment as part of natural cycles of rise and decline. This is not to excuse the destruction but to create space for evolution based on the natural order of things. It presumes that the technology we create, no matter how devastating or divisive it me be, is still a part of the greater web of life. This way of seeing our cycles supports ideas of interconnection, possibility, and responsibility. Check out Just Transition or The Great Turning as examples.
Composting and Creating New
Over the last few years, I have felt deep grief about the endings at all different levels—personal, family, community, collective, etc. At first, all I could feel was the fear of letting go. I doubted whether something new, more beautiful could actually emerge. Deepening my connection with nature’s cycles has given me a new sense of possibility and faith. After all, nature never panics when autumn rolls around each year. It simply trusts that death would be followed by birth.
I am learning that the birth is actually a symphony of new beginnings, not a single threshold. As I lay to rest my old ideas, stories, and beliefs, new fertile ground appears. The longer I walk this path, the more people I meet who are shifting out of fear and moving towards a shared accountability for what comes next. They are organizing, caring for each other, investing in community, creating new economies, setting realistic boundaries, and aligning values with behaviors. They are naming the failures of the past in order to create the foundations for more stable, equitable future.
If endings are openings for new potential, then we are deep into our autumn season of releasing what no longer serves us. We are setting down ideas of separateness, dominance, and a rigid hierarchy in favor of possibilities that honor our responsibility to ourselves, each other, and the living world. The snails, slugs, and fungi are here to remind us that messy deconstruction is also the sacred work of true transformation. It is the mark that a cycle is ending and new life will return.
Affirmations for Endings
May we claim our right to hope over fear, suffering, and grief. May we dream into the world that transforms pain into possibility. May we have the courage and discipline to bring our wildest dreams into form, so we can co-create new ways of being in harmony.
Questions for Reflection
What endings are you experiencing in your life currently?
What feelings come up in your body when you think about the end of a cycle or season?
What beginnings are emerging for you and how does that feel?
What do you hope will emerge from the ending of systems?
As we transition from death to rebirth, what does accountability look like for you personally?
Allow this to be a space to dream, imagine, grieve, release, and remember. The letting go is how we create new ways of being together. As always I invite you to leave a note or send a reply with your thoughts, ideas, and reflections. I look forward to hearing from you.
Until next time, take care, be kind, and we will talk soon,
Hillarie
Welcome back. I missed your writings. Stay safe and well. Cheers.