When life changes the rules

 

Sometimes, life changes because we decide it should. Sometimes, it changes because circumstances leave us no choice. And sometimes, we think we want a change, but something internally has not really moved yet.

Whatever the reason, sooner or later we will have to adapt.

Think about something as ordinary as giving someone your phone number. A few decades ago, you might have given your home or office landline. Today, almost automatically, you give your cell phone number. In fact, some people probably wonder why you would still have a landline at all.

It sounds trivial, but it says something important about human beings: we are constantly adapting to new realities.

The interesting question is not whether our reality will change, because it will. The more important question is how consciously we adapt when it does.

There are at least three ways this can happen.

Sometimes the change comes from within.

    We become aware of something, change an attitude, discover a different way of living, or go through an experience that profoundly changes the way we see ourselves and the world. When that happens, adaptation begins with us. If I say, “I am the architect of my life”, then I also have to accept the responsibility that comes with being such an architect.

A new awareness eventually needs a new way of living. For example, if I decide that I want to live a more spiritual life, the decision itself is not enough. My priorities, habits, relationships and even the way I respond to difficulties may have to change. It will require effort, a new architecture plan. But there is something very satisfying about making changes that come from a conscious decision as the effort has meaning, it is connected to something I have chosen.

Sometimes, however, the change comes from outside.

    The world changes, circumstances change, other people change, technology changes and suddenly, we find ourselves living in a reality we did not choose.

Artificial intelligence is a good example: it is already changing the way many people work, learn and create. The natural reaction can be fear, resistance or simply trying to keep doing things exactly as before.

But there is another possibility: stop, reflect, understand what is happening and empower ourselves to respond.

The question then is not simply, “How do I adapt to AI?”. We can add: “How do I use AI without allowing it to define who I am, what I contribute or what my future should be?”

The same principle applies to many changes we do not control. Before adapting automatically, it is worth understanding the new reality and asking what needs to change in us and what should not.

Remember: “I am the architect of my life.”

Sometimes we feel that we need a change, but we have not yet understood what really needs to change, we don’t have the resources or the training.

    This is a third possibility, perhaps the most subtle one. Imagine someone who is unhappy at work and decides to look for another job. That may be exactly what is needed. But it may also be an attempt to escape a problem that will simply reappear somewhere else.

Is the problem the organization? The culture? The leadership? The environment? The lack of purpose? The way the person relates to work? Or something deeper?

Changing the workplace may change the circumstances without changing the paradigm.

This is where self-reflection becomes so important. Clarity often needs to come before action. Otherwise, we can make a significant external change while carrying exactly the same internal patterns into our new reality.

“I am the architect of my life” becomes useful once again, not as a statement (I control everything), but as a reminder that I can define much of how I understand, respond to and shape my experience. Perhaps I will need different resources or training, sometime to sit and reflect, but that is in my hands.

We cannot always choose what changes around us. However, we can become more conscious of what is happening within us while we adapt.

 

Managing imbalances

 

There is a dynamic in life that we sometimes forget: a constant play between balance and imbalance. We seek stability, of course, but that does not mean that all imbalances are negative or that we should eliminate them immediately.

On a path of self-progress, different forms of instability can appear. We can become socially isolated, work too much, be going through a major change, start a new job or a new stage of life, or simply find ourselves in a situation whose duration and outcome we do not know.

Therefore, perhaps the first step is not to fight against the imbalance, but to understand it. What kind of imbalance am I experiencing? Is it temporary? Is it a consequence of a voluntary change? Is it harming my life? Or perhaps it is showing that I need to build a new form of balance?

Some imbalances last a few hours, days or months. In these cases, calmness and tranquility can be great allies, and also proactivity and creativity. It is not just a matter of waiting for the situation to end, but of discovering what I can do while I am living it.

Other imbalances may last longer. Think, for example, of starting a new job or a new career. For a period of time, it may be necessary to learn, change habits, adapt to new demands and accept that not everything will be under control. There, resilience becomes important, but so does the support of other people. A coach, a relative or a friend can offer a different view, specifically if one's vision is clouded by the situation.

And there are imbalances that seem to have no clear deadline. In these cases, it is worth investigating, observing and better understanding what is happening. Not all imbalances are necessarily bad. Some may be precisely the track to a healthier, longer-lasting and more authentic balance.

Of course, there are also instabilities that do harm. Toxic uncertainty, for example, can consume a lot of energy. At this point, self-leadership comes into play: we can't always control circumstances, but we can look for alternatives, make decisions and keep moving forward instead of getting stuck waiting for everything to go back to normal.

Meditation can be another great ally. Not because it will magically make external imbalances disappear, but it can help us find a point of internal stability from which to face them in a different way. When the outside world is constantly changing, having a more stable inner space can make a huge difference.

Along with all of the above, it may be necessary to look at something even broader and more impactful: one's own lifestyle. In addition to meditating, it can be useful to review habits, diet, physical exercise routine, the way we work, rest, relationships and even the way we are using our time and energy.

Finally, there is something else that can profoundly transform that inner space: gratitude. A true wave of gratitude can change how we observe what we are experiencing. It does not mean denying the difficulties or reaffirming that everything is fine when it is not. It is also recognizing what is working, the permanent, the lessons and the possibilities that we still have.

Perhaps balance does not consist in living without imbalances as it is customary to think. Perhaps it means learning to go through them without losing our focus.

Life will continue to have movements, changes and uncertainties. And our self-progress does not depend on avoiding all these experiences, but on developing the skills to live them in an increasingly conscious, stable and healthy way.

 

Earthquake

 

Lives were suddenly lost.

Houses were destroyed.

Those who survived are scared.

Leaders are worried about reconstruction.

It took a moment or two, a few minutes, for tragedy to cloud life itself.

And now it is time to recover…

To heal…

To create a new life…

It is time to understand and embrace, to give more, to transform small expectations…

It is time to think of all that we still have, no matter what.

Those things no earthquake, tsunami, avalanche or any other disaster can take away.

Our peace.

Our love.

Our courage.

Our determination.

Our dedication.

Our solidarity.

 

We cannot prevent a disaster.

But we can overcome a tragedy.

Right now.

Defining Your Path During Uncertain Times

 

We live in very different times, and former ways of dealing with our life path may no longer work so well.

Let’s say you have been walking through life, moving according to your capacity, neither daring too much nor stopping. And then, an earthquake… It would be difficult to remain standing and your steps would become erratic.

Uncertainty is the invisible earthquake we are living through nowadays, constantly moving our steps away from what once seemed like a certain destination.

What can we do?

Using the metaphor of walking, there are three interesting possibilities:

• Be a traveler. Enjoy life with detachment. Be a guest in a world of hosts and contribute as much as possible wherever you go. Learn, grow as a human being and go beyond being affected by the reality around you.
• Sometimes, just wander. Different from a traveler, a wanderer has no clear aim other than exploring. Life has so many different faces and sometimes the only way to experience them is to let go of expectations and simply flow.
• Become a pilgrim. I dreamed of being a traveler and ended up becoming a wanderer… until I found my own path. I became a pilgrim. Life as a pilgrimage means that there is only an objective in mind and the walking itself becomes sacred. It brings satisfaction from within, not necessarily from the outside environment.

Perhaps uncertain times are not asking us to walk faster or to find a safer road. Perhaps they are inviting us to redefine what walking means.

A traveler explores.

A wanderer discovers.

A pilgrim walks with meaning.

And when the earth shakes beneath our feet, perhaps the most important thing is not knowing exactly where we will arrive, but knowing why we keep walking.

Is Nature Against Us?

 In less than two months, two earthquakes have taken place very close to where I live… And I find myself wondering about our relationship with nature.

Our - meaning humankind.

When I was a boy, I used to be fascinated by what was happening around me and by how much we were able to build as a civilization. We built cities, roads, industries, machines… We transformed the world.

And, in the process, we destroyed almost everything - from animals to plants, from mountains to rivers, from ecosystems to… well, almost everything.

I suppose a sign of maturity came when I started to realize that something was wrong. The first time I consciously came into contact with this idea was when Ecology was introduced as a subject at school.

Today, we may see this awareness as a sign of civilization and wisdom. Only relatively recently have we begun to understand the damage we cause to Mother Nature.

And even today, not everyone understands it. It should have been obvious, shouldn't it?

After all, we have spoiled the water we drink and the food we eat. We have contaminated the air and the oceans. We have poisoned many of the very things that were supposed to keep us alive.

But, as I have mentioned before, a lack of individual and collective maturity prevented us from seeing what was happening.

For many years now, I have felt that our perspective should change. We should see nature as our partner.

We live together on this planet, and we are all dependent on one another.

We live from nature, and nature lives through us.

Nature does not exploit our species. So why should we exploit nature?

Perhaps what we have done against nature is not really “coming back to us” as some kind of punishment. Nature is simply responding.

And this reveals one of the most powerful lessons we may need to learn: nature is not against us. We are part of nature - and whatever happens to our relationship with it, eventually happens to us.

The Art of Continuous Learning

 

There was a time when learning had an expiration date. Many of us remember counting the days until we were finally "out" of school, university or any other place where studying seemed endless. Graduation felt like the finish line, and after crossing it, we believed we had learned everything we needed.

For some, studying more was a family tradition. Others pursued degree after degree because it was fashionable or their profession demanded it. And, of course, many simply wanted better opportunities in life. Ironically, today we even find people who are highly educated struggling to find jobs that match their qualifications…

The world has changed dramatically. New technologies - and especially AI - are transforming the workplace at a speed few ever imagined; knowledge that was valuable only a few years ago can quickly become outdated. In this environment, continuous learning is no longer an advantage; it is becoming a necessity.

Yet the most valuable learning may not happen in a classroom.

Personal growth depends on curiosity, investigation, reflection and the willingness to discover new perspectives. It requires having a vision of the future while remaining open to change. Sometimes the most important lessons come from developing soft skills: learning to communicate better, manage emotions, think critically, build meaningful relationships or cultivate inner stability through practices such as meditation.

The greatest learners are not necessarily those with the most certificates hanging on the wall. They are the ones who never lose the desire to ask questions, explore new ideas, and become a better version of themselves.

Perhaps the real art of continuous learning is not collecting more information or even knowledge. It is remaining open to learn throughout life.

Send me a text!

Ah, communication nowadays!

I still remember a scene from my childhood. An adult asked me a question, and my answer wasn't exactly the best. My grandfather immediately raised his voice and made me answer properly.

If that happened today, my reply would probably be an emoji. My grandfather's scolding would likely come as an angry text message, followed by a few letters from me in return. Letters of the alphabet, to be clear.

People often talk about a growing trend of linguistic minimalism. Maybe that's true. Or perhaps it's simply laziness amplified by hyperconnectivity.

That laziness is affecting society in many ways, and one consequence may be what many researchers now describe as a loneliness epidemic. It may take more effort to express yourself in complete thoughts, to make a phone call or to meet someone in person, but those forms of communication are usually healthier and far more meaningful.

Hyperconnectivity makes things even more complicated. I often compare today's communication to a mother with six children, all calling for her attention at the same time. She answers everyone, but briefly, hurriedly, just trying to keep up.

Our phones create a similar experience. Every time we unlock the screen, there are messages waiting, notifications demanding attention and countless distractions competing for a few seconds of our focus. Add our own curiosity - a funny dog video, the latest headlines, an interesting gadget - and it's no surprise that we answer as quickly and as briefly as possible.

Technology has made communication faster. The challenge is making sure it doesn't also make it shallower.

So, what can we do?

I'm not proposing a revolution or a rebellion. But I am concerned about the gradual isolation and superficiality that can creep into our relationships. So, I've been trying a few simple practices.

• Whenever possible, I choose to call or meet in person instead of sending a text. It isn't always practical, but when a conversation can prevent misunderstandings or speed up a decision, a phone call is often the better investment.
• Group chats can be surprisingly inefficient. Reaching a decision becomes difficult when everyone keeps adding messages, voice notes or long explanations instead of using simple tools like polls. Sometimes people end up agreeing simply because they are tired of the conversation or want to avoid conflict. When I notice that happening, I usually wait a day or two before sharing my opinion. It gives everyone - including me - time to think more clearly.
• I do send voice messages, but as sparingly as I can. They require time from people who are probably already busy. If I don't receive a reply, I often follow up with a short-written summary - or better yet, I simply make a call.
• A few years ago, I became aware of the subtle impact our thoughts and feelings have on others. I try to remember that whenever I am communicating remotely. Especially if the conversation is difficult and my emotions aren't at their best, I first try to clean my mind and cultivate good wishes. Whether you're writing a message or speaking face to face, with or without emojis, your inner state always finds a way to reach the other person.

So yes, send me a text if you need to. But whenever the conversation matters, call me instead. Some conversations deserve more than a screen, and some relationships deserve more than a few typed words.