I feel like I should write about the US/Israel war on Iran – just in case it’s the start of another world war. Conflict and its lasting impact are themes of my blogs, after all. 

But I can’t quite bring myself to. Do you feel the same? That initial shock… then a deep sigh, a kind of eye-rolling weariness, an ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake…” followed by a quieter, heavier sadness: not again.

Perhaps being immersed in a vibrant community, in the arts, in nature and in inner processes – as many of you may be, in your own ways – offers a lens on world events that cuts through the noise of “facts” and “news” and brings the sheer idiocy of this war into sharp relief. 

All wars are deadly serious, and my thoughts are frequently with those directly caught up in the pain, terror, danger, destruction and loss that war carries in its DNA. And yet, with so many alternatives to military action available, I struggle to see this one as anything other than a series of reckless actions by an orange, puffed-up caricature of a world leader alongside others in positions of power, playing with the lives, lands, and futures of millions, both near and far. 

Many watching on seem baffled and possibly outraged by what has unfolded this month. But implications and consequences aside for a moment, the language of and justification for war itself feels curiously antiquated: transparently dishonest, illogical, unimaginative, emotionally illiterate, and astonishingly short-sighted.

Similarly, I find myself unable to listen to discussions in the House of Commons without a sense of embarrassment. The braying and booing, the scorning and jeering. You could hardly design a better architectural setting or system for pitching people against one another in a relentless ping-pong match of insults and counterarguments that defy meaningful action or resolution.  

While I am at it, I would add the excessive striving for power, control, territory, wealth, or ideological domination to my list of grievances ready to be banished to Room 101. It all feels so… yesterday.

In contrast, reading the brilliant blog by Marina Cantacuzino, founder of The Forgiveness Project, on Rethinking the Language of Contempt, listening to Professor Daisy Fancourt speak about her book Art Cure: The Science of How the Arts Transform our Health, and studying the soul-orientated approach to seemingly unresolvable issues in systemic constellation work, restores my sense of faith that a better world is possible. 

What would really give me hope, however, is seeing the many effective, often evidence-based practices and initiatives that foster peace, health, care, connection and creativity properly funded, implemented, and woven into systems that are currently buckling under the weight of outdated thinking, much of it developed in the name of ‘progress’. 

As my wise constellations teacher said, what we may be witnessing is the “demise of competitive individualism”. Across the world, in both small and large ways, people are coming together in cooperatives, collaborations, conversations and communities, rather than conflicts. Many have recognised the dead end of elbowed egotism, excessive consumption, resource exploitation and disposable waste. Something else has been quietly brewing for decades. And though some of its early expressions may be flawed, it is happening. 

Here in this feisty little town in Gloucestershire that has always punched above its weight, the ground is tangibly rumbling. Not with tanks, but with a peaceful, bottom-up revolution. Changes in thinking, acting and being in this wonderful world based on what is beneficial to all. 

Bring it on. 

For just as valerian roots can quietly topple stone walls, so too can the gradual growth of grassroots initiatives gently tumble those clinging to the brittle pinnacles of old systems that have lost connection to their source.