Every now and then, a conversation shows up that feels like it belongs both to the moment and to a much longer thread — a chance to pause, reflect, and put some honest words around the work we do and the world we’re navigating.
I recently joined FuturePod for their ‘Letters to the Future’ series, in conversation with Peter Hayward and Frank Spencer. Peter is one of my dearest friends, and I first met Frank more than a decade ago — so this was a real privilege, both professionally and personally.
We talked about frustration and endings, about hospicing and vulnerability, about waiting and yielding and how hard it can be to sit in uncertainty without rushing to fix or explain it away. It was one of those rare spaces where we could be honest about the tensions we’re all holding — between the need to let things die, and the pull to build something different in their place.
One of the most moving parts of this experience was receiving living eulogies — words written about me, shared directly with me, while I’m still here to hear them. It’s a humbling and deeply human practice, and a reminder that the work we do — and the way we show up for each other — leaves traces we can’t always see.
FuturePod X invites the Future Correspondent to respond to each episode — a practice I love, because it keeps the conversation open, rather than wrapping it up with a neat bow. It’s an approach that feels aligned with the work I explore here on Substack — composting old systems, experimenting with new human ecologies, and figuring out how to walk modernity all the way to the threshold it’s approaching.
This post is a short pause between seasons here — an offering and an invitation. I hope you’ll listen, and if it sparks anything in you, I’d love to hear about it.
Your presence here matters most. The Art of Unravelling is offered as a gift, sustained by those who feel called to support the weaving.
If you’d like to help tend the fabric of this work, you can contribute below: