A Reckoning with the Reality of Collapse
Overview
I went dark with my website and business expensive hobby on July 2, 2026, because continuing down the path I was on ceased being an option, but I didn’t yet have an inkling of what was preparing to be birthed. I’m writing this on August 4, 2026, and a lot has shifted in my internal world over these past 33 days.
The biggest shift has been a personal reckoning with our collective dilemma: collapse.
Prior to this reckoning, my focus rested primarily on capitalism and ways that I — and you! — could circumvent it. I desperately wanted (us) to be the change in the hopes that the ripple effect of doing so would inspire others. I yearned for a world where we collectively cared so much about Mama Earth that we reversed our doomsday trajectory and came into right relationship with Her.
My outward focus was rooted in hope. Hope that we’d be able to reverse course if a critical mass were to awaken and be the change. Hope that this critical mass would be enough to counter the deranged billionaire men who were launching Cyber Trucks into orbit (because they can), building AI technologies that even the AI broligarchy argue have an unsettling high probability of wiping out the entirety of humanity (because they’re in a Cold War-style “arms” race with each other), and dropping bombs on Iran (because they want to invoke Armageddon and rapture).
And hope that we weren’t too late.
Now, a confession: I have lost all hope.
I no longer believe that we can actually stop (much less reverse) collapse short of — to borrow from insurance company lingo — force majeure. An act of God.
And surprisingly, this feels liberating.
[Note: Sarah Wilson’s latest book i eat the stars offers an incredibly articulate and well-researched synopsis that parallels my own reckoning, so I encourage you to read it if you feel such a niggling.]
This reckoning has led me from residing in a place of deep disappointment with humanity to that of a deepening state of compassion. Because we’re all in this together and collapse is actively happening. Some of us either block this out entirely — convincing ourselves that all is normal — or reside in a state of privilege where we don’t (yet) have to address it, and my compassion extends to those of us, too.
And yes, my compassion extends to those who are doing the most to perpetuate collapse while building bunkers to attempt to weather out the chaos **(#goodluck, Zuckerberg). But let’s be real: compassion and less positive feelings can coexist, and I’m fucking livid as hell that fossil fuel companies, Trump, the AI Broligarchy, et al. are pulling their existentially-threatening shenanigans.
And yet, the death of my hope has me pondering questions like: who do I want to be, what truly matters, and how will I be useless to capitalism today (borrowed from brontë velez, as quoted in Sarah Wilson’s above-mentioned book).
I do not feel despair. Not often, anyway.
While some are prepping (and preparing to defend their stashes with guns) — a deeply fear-based and individualistic rather than collective-focused response — I’m exploring ways I can do things like make capitalism redundant and contribute to mutual aid efforts. I feel most inspired by efforts to provide hot food or create alternatives that aren’t supply-chain dependent (like growing food in vacant lots, building relationships with farmers, etc.), as I remember one of my two biggest stressors during my activist days was wondering where my next meal was coming from (the other was wondering where I’d sleep that night).
I’m also slowing down.
Outside of my work at the nonprofit, I’m not on my computer (or phone) much and have been spending the bulk of my non-work waking hours reading, journaling, reflecting, biking, and otherwise doing my best to appreciate not hustling, not producing, and not busying myself.
But there’s also an itch to figure shit out.
Like, wouldn’t it be great to build a legit one-woman business so that I can quit my day job?! Of course. And…what if I instead just bided my time at my job-that-pays-the-bills without pressuring myself to monetize my gifts? (Honestly, I’m not even sure how I’d monetize them, anymore.)
I’m a certified Wayfinder Master Coach. I’ve invested something like 400 hours of training hours with Martha Beck and her master coach trainers (and $25k) to earn this certification and my ICF credential. But hanging a coaching shingle doesn’t bring in clients, and I refuse to either do any sort of corporate coaching or work for a pittance at an organization that operates under a labor-exploiting business model (think: strawberry.me). No thank you.
There is a glut of coaches — some with excellent training and others with none — who dream of building their own viable coaching businesses. This was me for years, but I’ve discovered since going dark that I no longer have the energy to do what’s necessary to build such a business.
Back to collapse…
Not only do I no longer have the energy to build such a business, as I ponder collapse and how I want to show up in it, it seems downright odd to even consider doing so.
Yes, I’m still living in (late-stage) capitalism, but I still need to eat, pay bills, etc. And yet, biding my time at the nonprofit while exploring my gifts through my keyboard seems to be the most reasonable avenue for me to take right now.
And by reasonable, I’m referring to both “reality” and to my spirit.
Because I’m fucking tired of postponing life’s little pleasures — like spending a leisurely morning journaling and reading before logging into my day job — so that I can instead update my website or improve its SEO.
My spirit needs an outlet to express itself — to make art — and an “easy” way to pay the bills. Composting my efforts to create coaching and/or adjacent businesses, therefore, feels liberating.
In collapse, I want to show up with energy and vitality.
I want to appreciate the little things — like the flitting monarch or hummingbird that visits me during my early morning journaling sessions, despite the fact that there are no blooms filled with yummy nectar in my yard. I want to connect deeply with others.
I want to feel more. More sensuous. More alive. More wild. More free.
In collapse, I want to write without worrying about how it will be received…or if anyone will even read it. I want the freedom to share what’s on my mind and heart.
In collapse, I want to be useful. My words are useful, at least that’s what some subscribers tell me.
In collapse, I want to be a grounding presence. I believe that I am.
In collapse, I would enjoy coaching others. Perhaps I will, even as I rebel from doing the work to build a viable coaching business.
In collapse, I want to feel truly free. I feel pretty free in some ways, but I have a ways to go.
This is my work.
That is all.
Hi! I’m Kristi.
I help women & genderqueer folk liberate themselves from capitalism’s self-blaming hamster wheel of “mindset work”, bootstrapping, and “never enoughness” while navigating life’s day-to-day challenges. This work is, ultimately, about helping humans move into deeper integrity with who they truly are so that they can flourish and contribute meaningfully to our collective liberation. Click here to learn more.
Subscribe to My Newsletter
Get content like this delivered to your inbox.
