Monthly Archive

Primitive or Sophisticated? Our Behaviour Is the Real Measure

We pride ourselves on being modern, advanced, even sophisticated. Yet if respect for human life is still missing, how modern are we really? From Switzerland to South Africa, from the U.S. to Canada, femicide and violence reveal our primitive side. And yet, there are places—like Spain—showing that progress is possible.

We like to call other people primitive. We point to places we don’t understand and shake our heads. But when I look around—yes, even here in beautiful Switzerland—I see something simpler and truer: if we haven’t learned to respect one another as human beings, we are still primitive. Behaviour, not branding, tells the story.

We celebrate technology, wealth, and orderly systems. We send rockets to Mars and carry supercomputers in our pockets. But if we can’t manage the basics—dignity, non-violence, kindness—then all that shine is only a clever veneer over a very old problem.

Counting What We Refuse to Count

Take femicide—the gender-related killing of women and girls. Even how we count (or don’t count) it says a lot. In Switzerland, “femicide” isn’t recognized as a separate category; homicide of women is lumped together regardless of motive. A convenient omission that hides harsh realities. Yet this is not unique: the U.S. also lacks formal femicide codification, making prevention and justice tougher to achieve. In South Africa, rates remain alarmingly high. In Canada, the crisis of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls is so systemic that a national inquiry officially designated it as genocide, not rhetoric.

What “Sophistication” Should Mean

If primitive means failing the basic test of respect, then sophisticated should mean the opposite: listening deeply, valuing every person’s dignity, wielding power without abuse, and channelling our anger into justice, not destruction. By that measure, modern societies—my own included—still fall short in how we treat women, minorities, and those who challenge us.

Switzerland, Honestly

We’re proud of our safety, prompt trains, and social order. But beneath that façade, problems persist: domestic violence, social exclusion, and a reluctance to even name certain harms. Naming is the first step to change. A truly mature society doesn't gloss over or mislabel harm—it confronts it.

Signs of Hope: Spain’s Meaningful Advances

There is reason for hope. Take Spain. Over the past two decades, Spain has made significant strides: femicides have dropped by about one-third since 2003, thanks to stronger laws, specialized courts, and expanded support services—including legal and psychological aid for victims. Read more.

In 2022, Spain introduced a new classification system for gender-related killings, distinguishing femicides by partner, family, sexual motive, social motive, and even vicarious killings (e.g. of children to harm women). This broader approach makes invisible forms of violence visible—so prevention can be more precise and just. Details here.

The country’s “Only Yes Is Yes Law” (Ley Orgánica 10/2022) redefined sexual violence, placing consent at the centre and outlawing previously tolerated behaviours like street harassment and forced marriage. It also provides financial and housing support for victims. Learn more.

Additionally, Spain pioneered VioGén, a risk-assessment system for domestic violence cases. It categorizes threat levels—negligible to extreme—based on standardized criteria, helping police and authorities prioritize protection. A new upgraded version, VioGén 2, is already in development. Overview here.

Spain also launched social-participation initiatives like the “Red Card to Abusers” campaign—where citizens publicly show a red card to condemn domestic violence—and the “Roses Revolution”, an international movement born in Spain to protest obstetric violence and demand respectful care during childbirth. Red Card | Roses Revolution.

A Practical Pivot in Our Own Backyard

Sophistication begins in the smallest moment: choosing to see another person’s humanity. It’s how we engage—not just in policy, but in daily life. How we respond when someone is unsafe. How we talk about domestic violence in our communities. If institutions are slow to act, it’s up to us to insist they do: collect better data, design more inclusive laws, support victim services. These are buildable acts of compassion.

Where We Stand

We stand at a crossroads. One path is old and worn: violence, euphemism, denial. The other is harder: truth, naming harm, radical respect, targeted action. Spain shows that progress is possible—even imperfect, even reversible—but real. Until we choose that second path consistently, we risk calling ourselves sophisticated when we’re still learning the basics of humanity.

Sources Used

Switzerland

• Swiss Federal Statistical Office – Domestic violence statistics
  https://www.bfs.admin.ch/bfs/en/home/statistics/crime-criminal-justice/police/domestic-violence.html

• Swissinfo – “Every femicide is one too many,” says Justice Minister Baume-Schneider (2025)
  https://www.swissinfo.ch/eng/various/baume-schneider-every-feminicide-is-one-too-many/89871561

• UN General Assembly Note A/76/132 – Approaches to femicide statistics
  https://docs.un.org/en/A/76/132

United States

• Public Health article – Absence of femicide codification in U.S. law (PMC10933122)
  https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC10933122/

South Africa

• UN Women – Tackling femicide in South Africa through laws, policies, and better policing (2024)
  https://www.unwomen.org/en/news-stories/feature-story/2024/11/tackling-femicide-in-south-africa-through-laws-policies-and-better-policing

• SAMRC – Naeemah Abrahams, Three national femicide studies (presentation, 2022)
  https://www.svriforum2022.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Naeemah-Abrahams-Femicide.pdf

Canada

• National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls – Final Report (2019)
  https://www.mmiwg-ffada.ca/final-report/

• Supplement: Reclaiming Power and Place – Vol. 1a (genocide finding)
  https://www.mmiwg-ffada.ca/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/Final_Report_Vol_1a-1.pdf

Global

• UNODC – Global Study on Homicide 2019: Gender-related killing of women and girls (Booklet 5)
  https://www.unodc.org/documents/data-and-analysis/gsh/Booklet_5.pdf

• UN Women & UNODC – Gender-related killings of women and girls: Global estimates 2022 (2023 brief)
  https://www.unwomen.org/sites/default/files/2023-11/gender-related-killings-of-women-and-girls-femicide-feminicide-global-estimates-2022-en.pdf

Spain

• her-career.com – Consistent political measures cut femicides by one-third since 2003
  https://www.her-career.com/en/thanks-to-consistent-political-measures-the-number-of-femicides-in-spain-has-dropped-by-one-third-since-2003/

• FairPlanet – Tracking and criminalising the EU’s femicide epidemic (Spain’s 2022 classification system)
  https://www.fairplanet.org/editors-pick/tracking-and-criminalising-the-eus-femicide-epidemic/

• Wikipedia – Ley del Solo Sí es Sí (Only Yes Is Yes Law)
  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ley_del_solo_s%C3%AD_es_s%C3%AD

• Wikipedia – VioGén (domestic violence risk assessment system)
  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/VioG%C3%A9n

• Wikipedia – Saca tarjeta roja al maltratador (Red Card campaign)
  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saca_tarjeta_roja_al_maltratador

• Wikipedia – Roses Revolution (movement against obstetric violence)
  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roses_Revolution

Three Truths: The Divine, Illusion, and the Individual

Three truths: the eternal, the illusion, and the fleeting self—insights inspired by Prem Rawat and a lifetime of my own experience.

There are three simple yet profound statements that, when contemplated, reveal a deep understanding of existence:

1. It always was, it is, and it always will be.

2. It never was, it isn’t, and it never will be.

3. It wasn’t, it is, and it won’t be.

These three phrases might seem cryptic at first glance. But in their simplicity, they point to the essence of life, illusion, and individuality. They also resonate with what Prem Rawat has expressed over decades of sharing his message of peace: an invitation to see clearly what is real, what is not, and where we stand in between.

1. The First: It Always Was, It Is, and It Always Will Be

This describes what cannot be created or destroyed: the divine essence.
Call it life, call it energy, call it the eternal, call it the unnameable – it is the foundation that makes everything possible. It has no beginning, because “beginning” itself requires time, and the divine is beyond time. It has no end, because endings belong to things that decay, dissolve, or transform. This presence is timeless. It always was, it is right now, and it always will be.

This is not a matter of belief or theory. As Prem Rawat often says, “If you experience it, then you know.” The breath we take is the most immediate reminder of this truth. Every inhalation and exhalation ties us to the infinite. We may not see it with our eyes, but we feel it as life itself moving within us.

Philosophers across ages – from the Upanishads to Spinoza – have tried to describe this eternal. But their words, like all words, remain limited. The direct experience is what matters. And that experience whispers, again and again: it always was, it is, and it always will be.

2. The Second: It Never Was, It Isn’t, and It Never Will Be

This describes what appears to be real but is not: the illusion of reality.

Reality, as we normally use the word, is made of memory and projection. What we call “the past” is no longer here – it is a trace in memory, reconstructed each time we recall it. What we call “the future” does not yet exist – it is a construction of imagination, a projection shaped by hopes and fears. And even what we call “the present” slips away the instant we try to hold it, always in flux.

This is why Prem Rawat insists that clarity means seeing through illusion. The world of shifting appearances can feel heavy, urgent, overwhelming. But when we examine it closely, it is like mist. It never was in any absolute sense, it isn’t now because it cannot stay fixed, and it never will be because the future has not yet come.

This does not mean the world is meaningless. Illusion has its role. We live within it, interact with it, and learn from it. But mistaking illusion for reality traps us. We argue over stories, we cling to identities, we fear the future as though it were already written. To see illusion as illusion is to free ourselves from unnecessary weight.

In my own life, I have seen how much energy is wasted chasing shadows: reputations, possessions, dramas that vanish in time. When seen for what they are, they lose their grip. Then the real – the presence of life itself – comes forward more clearly.

3. The Third: It Wasn’t, It Is, and It Won’t Be

This describes the individual human being.

Before birth, “I” did not exist. The soul may be a drop of the infinite ocean, but the person – with their name, body, history, and memories – simply was not. Now, in this brief span we call a lifetime, the individual exists. You and I live, breathe, think, feel, and act. But after death, this individual no longer exists. The personality dissolves, the body returns to the elements, the soul merges back into the ocean.

This perspective is humbling and liberating at once. It was not, it is, and it will not be. The self we cling to so fiercely – “my story, my success, my failure” – is temporary. Recognizing this does not mean life is bleak or meaningless. On the contrary, it sharpens the focus: while I am here, what do I want to experience? What truly matters?

For me, this question always circles back to what Prem Rawat emphasizes: peace, clarity, and joy in this moment. If the individual self is temporary, then it makes sense to spend this brief window of existence in alignment with what is real – not chasing illusions, not drowning in fear, but celebrating the gift of breath.

Weaving the Three Together

So, we have three truths:

• The divine essence: it always was, it is, and it always will be.

• The illusion of reality: it never was, it isn’t, and it never will be.

• The individual self: it wasn’t, it is, and it won’t be.

Each of these coexists in the life we experience. The divine provides the foundation. Illusion provides the stage. The individual plays out their brief role. Understanding these relationships brings both perspective and relief.

Without this understanding, life easily becomes tangled. We mistake illusion for permanence. We mistake the individual self for eternal truth. We neglect the divine, though it is the only thing that truly lasts. With this understanding, a kind of clarity dawns: I am temporary, living in a shifting play, yet connected at every breath to what is eternal.

Why This Resonates

I have come to see these three statements as not only philosophical but deeply practical. They help untangle confusion. They give me a compass when I am lost in memory or projection. They remind me not to be fooled by appearances. And they encourage me to treasure this brief existence, because while the individual is temporary, the gift of being alive is astonishing.

Prem Rawat’s way of putting it often feels so simple: life is a gift, the breath is the reminder, peace is possible. But behind this simplicity lies a profound structure, echoed in traditions across time. Whether we look at mystics, poets, or philosophers, we find variations of the same theme: the eternal, the illusory, and the fleeting. Each has its place. Only one is unchanging.

Conclusion: Living the Insight

What does it mean to live these truths?
It means recognizing the divine essence in every breath.
It means seeing illusion as illusion and not letting it dominate.
It means embracing our individuality while it lasts, without clinging.

This balance allows us to live fully, without fear, without illusion, and without forgetting the eternal that carries us. For me, this is not theory – it is what I have seen, again and again, through decades of practice and reflection.

So the three truths remain:

1. It always was, it is, and it always will be.

2. It never was, it isn’t, and it never will be.

3. It wasn’t, it is, and it won’t be.

And in their light, life becomes both simpler and richer.

The Miracle We Miss Every Day

When people talk about miracles, the mind jumps to the extraordinary. In Christian tradition, the list is familiar: water into wine, sight returned to the blind, the lame walking, thousands fed with a few loaves and fishes. In other faiths, we find similar stories — mystics who heal with a touch, saints who defy the elements, sages who know events before they happen.

Over the centuries, whole religious traditions have elevated people to sainthood, not only for their kindness or wisdom, but for the “miracles” attributed to them. Some of these were dramatic, others strangely modest. St. Martin, for example, is remembered for cutting his cloak in two to give half to a beggar — an act of generosity that, over time, acquired the status of miracle.

Whether such events are historical fact or devotional legend is beside the point. What matters here is this: in our fascination with rare, show-stopping wonders, we overlook the most constant, most intimate miracle of all.

We don’t breathe — we are breathed

The true miracle is not locked away in the past or in sacred books. It is happening right now, to you, to me, to everyone alive.

We don’t breathe; we are breathed.

We assume breathing is something we “do.” But try to stop for long, and you’ll fail. Your body will take over. Try to force more than you need, and you’ll be corrected. Breathing is not an achievement — it is life itself moving through you.

There was a time before your first breath. One day, there will be a last breath. Between those two, every single moment of your life depends on this silent exchange of air, happening whether you pay attention to it or not.

Not trivial — foundational

Because it’s constant, it’s easy to dismiss. It doesn’t carry the spectacle of a sudden healing or the drama of an ancient tale. But without it, everything else collapses.

Every thought, every word, every memory, every plan you’ve ever made has depended on this quiet process. You could strip away wealth, status, possessions, even mobility — and still live. Remove the breath for a few minutes, and it’s over.

The scale of it is humbling. Among billions of lifeless worlds in the universe, there is this one blue planet. On it, billions of human beings, each one being breathed, moment by moment. No two breaths are ever exactly alike, yet each one is perfectly enough.

The science and the poetry

From a physiological standpoint, breathing is an intricate partnership between the brainstem, the lungs, and the heart. Without conscious effort, your diaphragm contracts, drawing air in. Oxygen is delivered to every cell, carbon dioxide is carried away, and the cycle repeats.

From a poetic standpoint, breathing is life’s signature. Ancient mystics knew this long before medical science explained it. In Sanskrit, prana means both “breath” and “life force.” In Hebrew, ruach means “spirit” or “breath.” In Greek, pneuma is both “air” and “soul.” Across traditions, the breath has been the bridge between the physical and the eternal.

What self-knowledge reveals

The reason this miracle goes unnoticed is that we’ve been taught to look elsewhere for awe. We expect it in magic tricks, in other people’s stories, in the grand and the rare.

But self-knowledge changes that. Through turning inward, I’ve learned that the breath is not just a mechanical process — it is the evidence, the felt experience, of being alive now.

It doesn’t ask for your belief. It doesn’t require an audience. It isn’t owned by any religion, culture, or nation. It is freely given to you, until it isn’t.

The finite nature of the gift

The fact that it will end makes it more precious. That there was a time before you were breathing, and there will be a time after, puts a sharp edge on the now.

When you notice it — really notice it — gratitude arises naturally. Not the gratitude we’re told to “practice,” but the kind that floods in uninvited when you truly grasp that you are alive in this instant, and that nothing is promised beyond it.

The miracle is here. It is constant. It is yours.
And once you see it, you may never again need to go searching for proof of the extraordinary.

Living Inside the Box – And Finding the Way Out

We all live inside a box.
Not a wooden one with a lid, but an invisible one made of ideas, opinions, and so-called “truths” programmed into us from the moment we were born.

The walls of this box are built by the voices of our family, priests, teachers, colleagues, friends, and countless others. Layer upon layer, the box is reinforced by what we are told is “right,” “normal,” or “the way things are.” One of the thickest layers? Tradition — unquestioned habits passed down simply because “it’s always been done this way.”

The box can feel safe. It tells us where we belong, what to do, and how to think. It spares us the discomfort of asking hard questions. But that safety is an illusion — it’s a cage that quietly robs us of our freedom to see, feel, and live for ourselves.

Thinking outside the box sounds like a clever slogan, but in reality, it’s hard. The box isn’t just around us — it’s inside us. We carry it in our heads, in our hearts, and in our automatic reactions.

You can see it in everyday life:

• A young person wants to pursue art, but is told to get a “real job” because security matters more than passion.

• Someone questions a religious or cultural practice, only to be met with, “That’s how it’s always been — who are you to change it?”

• A worker suggests a new way of doing things, but the manager waves it off with, “We’ve always done it this way.”

The box whispers, “Stay where you are. Don’t question. Don’t risk.”

Stepping outside is not about breaking all the rules for the sake of it, or rejecting everyone else’s ideas. It’s about discovering who we truly are when all that noise is stripped away. It begins with awareness — noticing the box itself, realising those walls are not part of who we are.

From there, we can ask the oldest and most important question:

Who am I?

Not the “me” shaped by other people’s beliefs, fears, and expectations — but the real me. The one that existed before all the programming.

When we begin to know ourselves, the box loses its power. The heart — that quiet, timeless compass within — can take the lead. And from there, life becomes less about defending the walls and more about walking in open space, breathing in the freshness of our own experience.

As Prem Rawat says, “Know yourself.” It is in that knowing, not in tradition or borrowed truths, that we find the courage to live as we were meant to — awake, free, and guided by the heart.

Know thyself. Let the heart rule. Leave the box behind.

Only This Breath: A Love Letter to Now

Tomorrow never arrives and yesterday is gone. What remains is this breath, this moment. Not a slogan, but a way to live—through small practices of presence, kindness, and gratitude.

Yesterday, I listened to Prem Rawat remind us of something beautifully simple: tomorrow doesn’t exist—because when it arrives, it’s already today. Yesterday doesn’t exist—because it’s gone and will never come back. What remains, what is, is this living moment. Not as a slogan, not as a pretty idea, but as the beating heart of our experience.

This isn’t an invitation to “party like crazy because tomorrow we die.” It’s an invitation to wake up to the quiet miracle that we are alive now—to savour what is here before it slips, as all moments do, into memory.

Yesterday and tomorrow: useful, but not real

Of course, we make plans. We learn from the past and put dates in our calendars. That’s fine. But planning and remembering are activities that happen today. When I pour worry into the future or drag regret from the past, I drain colour from the only canvas I can paint on: the present.

When I actually look, I notice that the richness of life—taste, touch, breath, warmth, the eyes of a friend—never lands in “later.” It always arrives as a gift labelled now.

The gift hidden in plain sight

There is a kind of ordinary magic in this moment. Not fireworks, not fanfare—just the intimacy of being here. The breath enters and leaves. The heart works without applause. A cup of coffee offers its small, perfect warmth to my hands. A bird insists, against all odds, on singing. These are not background details; they are the main event.

When I let myself feel the ordinary miracle, something softens. The mind, so eager to measure, compare, and predict, takes one step back. In that space, gratitude can breathe.

Five tiny practices to meet the moment

I’m not trying to become a saint. I’m simply practicing being present. These small rituals help:

1. Three conscious breaths. Wherever I am—queue, train, kitchen—I pause for three slow breaths. I feel them arrive. I feel them go. That’s it.

2. Name one beautiful thing. I look around and name it silently: “Light on the wall.” “Steam from the mug.” “That laugh.” Beauty gets brighter when noticed.

3. Feel the feet. I let attention drop into the soles of my feet. Grounded again, I return to what I’m doing with clearer eyes.

4. Offer one kind act. A text, a smile, washing a cup I didn’t dirty—tiny acts place me squarely in the present and connect me to others.

5. Close the day gently. Before sleep, I recall one moment I truly met today. Not the “biggest” moment—the truest. I say thank you, and let the rest go.

None of these take time. They give time back—time I was losing to autopilot.

When life is difficult

Presence is not a trick to avoid pain or pretend everything’s fine. Some days are heavy. The work of being human doesn’t stop. But even on the hard days, now offers a foothold. I can’t swallow the whole mountain; I can take the next step. I can breathe this breath. I can ask for help. I can be kind to myself in the middle of the mess.

Strangely, that kindness is practical. It steadies the hand, softens the jaw, clears the gaze. It returns me to the living moment where wise action is actually possible.

What “savouring life” looks like (for me)

• Slowing the first sip. Coffee, tea, water—it doesn’t matter. I give the first sip five full seconds of attention. The world becomes more vivid.

• Single-tasking, poorly but sincerely. I attempt to do one thing at a time. I fail often. I try again. Every small success feels like relief.

• Walking like I’m already there. On a short walk, I stop “getting somewhere” and let myself arrive with each step.

• Listening to listen. When someone speaks, I practice hearing what they mean, not just the words. Connection lives in that space.

• Guarding the morning. Before headlines and messages, I give the first minutes to breath and gratitude. The day bends in a kinder direction.

A short note on joy

Joy is not a reward for completing a to-do list. It’s not waiting in a particular job, city, or achievement. Joy is an experience of aliveness that visits when I’m present enough to notice. It often arrives quietly—like sunlight moving across a floor. If I give it room, it grows.

A gentle invitation

If tomorrow never arrives and yesterday is truly gone, then this is our chance to live. Not “one day” when we have more time, money, or certainty. Not after we fix ourselves. Now—exactly as we are, with the breath we have, in the life we’re in.

So perhaps today we can pause for three breaths. We can taste our tea. We can be kind for no reason. We can let gratitude sneak up on us. And we can remember, as Prem Rawat so often points out, that the treasure we seek is not far away. It is nearer than near: it is here.

May we meet this moment with tenderness. May we live today all the way.

2045 Risk Map: Water–Climate–Peace

Updated: 12 August 2025

Snapshot (2025 → 2045)
Tech is accelerating, but groundwater depletion, glacier loss, permafrost thaw, and rising conflict risk are tightening society’s margins. On present behaviour, expect more regional crises; with targeted action, a resilient “muddle‑through” is still achievable.

Risk map (what breaks first)

High‑impact levers (2025–2030 window)

Cut emissions while hardening systems

• Coal‑to‑clean swaps in power; build grids + utility‑scale storage; accelerate heat pumps and efficiency retrofits.

• Methane abatement (oil/gas leaks, landfill capture, rice/livestock best‑practice)—fastest near‑term cooling.

• Industrial decarbonisation where feasible (electrify low‑temp heat; green H₂ for niche high‑heat/chemicals).

Water & land resilience

• Groundwater caps & metering, managed aquifer recharge, crop switching, smart water pricing.

• Glacier‑lake risk management (monitoring, controlled drainage), floodplain buy‑outs, nature‑based buffers.

• Urban heat plans: cool roofs/streets, shade, trees, targeted cooling centres.

Peace & security backstops

• De‑confliction channels; protect grain/energy corridors; scale adaptation finance in fragile regions; revive arms‑control tracks.

Finance & insurance

• Risk‑based pricing with justice safeguards; resilience bonds; climate‑risk disclosure that drives capex to adaptation.

Society & governance

• Early‑warning systems, drills, mutual‑aid networks; evidence‑based comms to counter misinformation.

Political overlay (US 2025–2029): implications for the risk map

What changed

• Paris Agreement exit (2025) and federal climate rollbacks signalled; LNG export permitting restarted; oil & gas development prioritised.

• Across‑the‑board US import tariffs (baseline 10%) add friction to global trade and raise costs for clean‑tech supply chains (PV, batteries, critical minerals), risking slower deployment.

• NATO spending shifted up (~5% of GDP target); European defence outlays will rise materially, crowding other budgets unless offset by new revenues.

• Ukraine diplomacy reset with a US‑Russia summit; talk of territorial concessions raises uncertainty on European security architecture even if a ceasefire emerges.

Net effect on 2045 outlook

• Emissions track: higher than prior baseline (more LNG/oil, weaker US rules) → marginally higher 2030–2040 warming and adaptation costs.

• Markets: tariffs + policy whiplash → higher capex costs, slower clean‑tech diffusion in the near term; long‑run tech learning still strong.

• Peace/security: Near‑term deterrence may improve via higher NATO spend, but strategic risk rises if any Ukraine deal undermines norms on territorial integrity.

Revised scenario odds (subjective)

• Muddle‑through: 40%

• Fragmented downturn: 40%

• Cooperative pivot: 20%

Near‑term moves for Switzerland/Europe (practical)

• Heat pumps + district energy at speed; expand pumped‑storage and flexible Alpine hydropower; streamline cross‑border grid links.

• Water: Rhine/Aare basin drought compacts; control glacier‑lake outburst risks; fix municipal leakage; incentivise drought‑tolerant landscaping.

• Agriculture: support drip irrigation, soil‑moisture retention, and crop shifts where water is tight.

• Community resilience: summer cooling hubs, backup power for clinics, neighbourhood check‑ins during heatwaves/floods.

A positive note: individual responsibility & consciousness

Even on a rough trajectory, there is a kind of resilience that starts inside. In the spirit of Prem Rawat’s emphasis on awareness and personal responsibility:

• Attention first: a few quiet minutes daily (breath, presence) sharpen judgment and soften reactivity—useful in heatwaves, outages, and tense civic moments.

• Conduct that reduces harm now: prefer comfort and sufficiency over excess; choices that feel good immediately (sleep‑cooling, mindful food, repairing) also lower water/energy strain.

• Connection that holds under stress: know a few neighbours by name; exchange numbers. Communities with trust ride out shocks better than those with more gadgets but weaker ties.

These are not grand fixes. They simply reduce the fray where we stand and keep our humanity intact while larger systems catch up.

Leading indicators to watch (simple dashboard)

1. Groundwater levels (Ogallala, Central Valley) & GRACE trends

2. Swiss glacier mass‑balance (%/yr) & hydropower summer capacity factor

3. Days with WBGT > 28 °C in major cities; heat‑related ER admissions

4. FAO Food Price Index (3‑month avg) & key export restrictions

5. Reinsurance renewals (Jan/Apr) rate changes and coverage gaps

6. Arms‑control/warhead inventories (SIPRI) & de‑confliction activity

7. Global methane growth rate (ppb/yr)

Bottom line: Without sharper policy, expect a rougher “muddle‑through.” With targeted cuts (esp. methane), strong water governance, and peace backstops, 2045 can be difficult and liveable.

Complicity Is a Choice: Human Rights Were Written in Ashes

op-ed English
op-ed Deutsch

Beyond Borders: The Comfort of Illusions in a Land Called Switzerland

Recently, I’ve had conversations with people here in Switzerland who, like me, admire the teachings of Prem Rawat — a man who speaks tirelessly about peace, about seeing beyond the noise of the world, about recognising the illusions (maya) that keep us from knowing ourselves.

And yet, in these same conversations, I’ve heard support for ideas like “10 million people is enough for here” — a slogan used to push anti-immigration and anti-asylum policies. I’ve also heard someone who worked for RUAG, Switzerland’s state-owned arms company, for over a decade explain that it was fine because “Switzerland is a defensive military.”

To me, these positions seem at odds with the essence of what Prem Rawat teaches.

The Comfort of Familiar Narratives

We humans cling to stories that make us feel secure. They tell us who we are, who the “others” are, and why the lines we draw between us make sense.

Borders, national identity, and military postures are part of those stories. They can feel practical, even moral. But if we look closer, we see they are made of the same stuff as any other illusion: belief held in place by repetition, comfort, and fear of what might happen if we let it go.

The Illusion of Countries and Peoples

Prem Rawat often points out that many things we take for granted are illusions. Countries are a perfect example.

Borders shift over time. Languages and cultures blend and change. Yet we defend these human-made divisions as though they were natural and eternal truths. We even define ourselves by them: “I am Swiss,” “I am French,” “I am Indian.”

The reality? Before the label, we were simply human. That hasn’t changed.

Defensive Militaries, Neutrality, and the Double Illusion

In Switzerland, the story is that we have a defensive military and are neutral. These sound noble, but in practice they are riddled with contradictions.

A defensive military still trains for war. And the weapons industry here — from small arms to high-tech systems — doesn’t just equip Swiss soldiers. “Defensive” is a label that soothes the conscience while ignoring where our exports end up.

And neutrality? Officially, it means not taking sides in conflicts. In practice, it has often meant something closer to, “We’ll take anyone’s money.”

From banking secrecy used by dictators, to trade with regimes on both sides of a conflict, neutrality has sometimes served more as a commercial strategy than a moral one. We cling to the label because it makes us feel righteous, even when the reality is far more complicated.

Why Illusions are Hard to Give Up

Illusions like these are comforting because they allow us to feel safe without having to confront our own fears and contradictions. If the border is strong, the military is defensive, and our country is neutral, then everything is under control — or so the story goes.

But Prem Rawat reminds us: the real battle is inside. The world’s problems will not be solved by stronger walls or cleverer labels, but by individuals who are willing to see clearly and live with compassion.

Seeing Beyond the Stories

When we step back from these inherited narratives, something shifts. Without the armour of nationality, we see other human beings as… just that: human beings.

Without the illusion of neutrality, we are forced to ask harder questions about what we participate in and why. Without the excuse of “defensive,” we have to face whether we truly want peace — or whether we are just preparing for the next war.

An Invitation

I am not here to tell anyone what to think about immigration, the military, or neutrality. But I am inviting you — as Prem Rawat invites all of us — to notice the illusions you carry and ask: Are they helping me live as a human first?

Because in the end, the only “border” that matters is between knowing and not knowing yourself. And the only “defence” worth keeping is the one that protects your heart from closing.

Why Political Leaders Get Stuck in the “Asshole” Stage

Stuck in the “Asshole” Stage: Why So Many Political Leaders Fail Us — And What Courage Demands from Us All

Politics today often feels like a playground of ego, aggression, and childish games — dominated by leaders who seem stuck in what might be called the “asshole” stage of human development. But this isn’t just frustration or cynicism; it’s a serious crisis with real consequences for society, the planet, and even the soldiers sent to fight these leaders’ battles. This article explores why so many political figures remain emotionally immature, the heavy cost of this stagnation, and why it takes courage from all of us to demand and create better leadership.

If you watch today’s political landscape, it’s hard not to feel overwhelmed by the toxic atmosphere — the endless bickering, personal attacks, divisiveness, and ego-driven posturing. It often seems like many political leaders have never grown up beyond what could be called the “asshole” stage of human development.

But what does that really mean? And why is it so dangerous — not just for politics, but for society, the planet, and even the soldiers sent to fight these leaders’ battles?

What Does It Mean to Be a Fully Developed Human Being?

Being fully human means more than just existing or holding office. It means cultivating emotional maturity — empathy, integrity, self-awareness, and a sense of responsibility for others. It means leading not from fear or ego, but from an understanding of our shared humanity and interconnectedness.

In stark contrast, the “asshole” stage is marked by egocentrism, defensiveness, manipulation, and reactive behavior. It’s the stage where power becomes an end in itself, and where genuine leadership gives way to posturing and self-preservation.

Why Do So Many Political Leaders Get Stuck Here?

Politics is a brutal arena. It rewards aggression, dominance, and division more than humility, collaboration, or authenticity. Ambition and survival in this environment often come at the cost of personal growth and integrity.

Many leaders cling to outdated identities and behaviors that kept them afloat early in their careers but now contribute to the erosion of trust and civility. Ideological echo chambers, group loyalties, and fear of vulnerability trap them in immature patterns.

The Heavy Cost of This Stagnation

This immaturity at the top has real, devastating consequences. It destroys social trust, fractures communities, and undermines democratic values. It also accelerates the destruction of the environment — the very foundation of life for all of us.

When leadership fails to grow up, society pays the price in division, unrest, and inaction on the urgent crises we face.

A Call to Courage for Voters, Mature Citizens, and Those Who Serve

The time for complacency is over. Mature human beings among us must find the courage to stand up to this ongoing deterioration.

Voters can no longer accept the status quo. It takes real bravery to question loyalties, challenge party lines, and refuse to tolerate toxic, ego-driven behavior disguised as leadership. Courage means demanding integrity, empathy, and responsibility from those who seek to lead.

But this call extends beyond voters alone. Those who serve as soldiers — the men and women who fight and sacrifice on behalf of their countries — must also recognize the truth behind the orders they follow. Too often, these “asshole” leaders send soldiers and their families into harm’s way not out of necessity for justice or peace, but to maintain power, control, or political games.

True courage for soldiers includes awareness and responsibility: questioning the motives behind conflict, demanding transparency and accountability from leaders, and advocating for peace rather than blind obedience to destructive power struggles.

The Urgency: Society, Soldiers, and Planet at Risk

The consequences of political immaturity are not distant or theoretical. They are devastatingly real — destroying social trust, eroding democratic values, shattering communities, and ravaging the planet we all depend on. And they place the lives of soldiers and their families directly in jeopardy.

We face a critical moment. The ongoing cycle of immature, self-serving leadership threatens the very fabric of our society and the health of our planet. The cost of inaction is too high.

It is a call to all — citizens, soldiers, leaders, and everyone in between — to refuse to enable this destructive cycle. The power to change lies with the mature human beings willing to demand better, to lead by example, and to reclaim leadership grounded in empathy, integrity, and courage.

Only by breaking free from the “asshole” stage can we hope to build a future worthy of our children, our communities, and our planet.

Conclusion: The Change Begins With Us

The “asshole” stage in politics is a symptom — not a permanent condition. We have the choice and the responsibility to break the cycle.

It begins with each of us practicing courage: courage to see clearly, to speak truthfully, to demand more, and to embody the maturity we wish to see in our leaders.

The future depends on mature humans reclaiming leadership — starting with ourselves. What will you do to break the cycle?

The state of politics is a reflection of us all — and the path forward depends on the courage we find within ourselves. It’s time to refuse the “asshole” stage as the norm. Let’s demand leaders who embody true maturity and humanity, and let’s lead by example every day. Because the future we want starts with the courage to break the cycle — beginning right here, right now, with you.

Finding Certainty in an Uncertain World

The world is unpredictable, but certainty exists — not in control or belief, but in the direct experience of being alive, here and now.

Everything can change in an instant.

The job you thought was secure.
The friend you thought you knew.
The health you took for granted.
The country you believed was stable.

Most of what we call “certainty” is just habit — the same events repeating often enough that we assume they will continue. But habit is not stability. And when the pattern breaks, the sense of safety built on it can collapse overnight.

This is not a reason for despair. It’s an invitation to look deeper — to find the kind of certainty that does not depend on circumstances.

Looking for Solid Ground

Most people search for certainty in things.

Money in the bank.
A government that will protect them.
A doctrine that promises the truth.

These can feel solid, but they are all vulnerable to forces beyond our control. Markets crash. Leaders change. Beliefs shift. Even the most sacred story is still a story — and stories can be rewritten.

In Reality Is a Thought, I wrote about how what we take as “real” is often just a construct in the mind — a map, not the territory. It can feel certain, but that feeling is fragile, because it depends on the mind continuing to tell the same story.

Two Kinds of Certainty

There is intellectual certainty — the kind that rests on facts, logic, and information. This is useful, but it always depends on trust in the source, and the source can fail.

And there is experiential certainty — the kind you don’t need to prove because you can feel it directly. It is not second-hand. It does not require anyone else’s agreement.

If you close your eyes and notice your breath, you know without doubt that you are alive at this moment. No argument is needed. That’s certainty. Not about tomorrow, not about the universe — just about now.

The Breath as an Anchor

In a world where everything is uncertain, the breath is a constant companion — until the last one. It asks nothing, demands no belief. It just arrives, moment after moment, a quiet reminder: you are here.

For me, this is the one certainty I can truly rely on. Not because I’ve read it somewhere, but because I experience it every day.

The teacher Prem Rawat has said, in his own way, that the most important thing is to feel life itself, not the noise around it. When you do, you discover that certainty isn’t about knowing the future — it’s about knowing you are alive right now.

Letting Go of the Prediction Habit

Much of our anxiety comes from trying to predict what’s coming. We want to prepare, to control, to make sure nothing surprises us.

But prediction is control dressed up as foresight. And control over the future is an illusion — the future is not here yet.

When you drop the need to know what’s next, you gain the freedom to experience what’s here. And what’s here is the only place certainty lives.

The Unshakeable Ground

The world will keep changing. The patterns you rely on will sometimes break. That’s not failure — it’s the nature of life.

But there is one ground that does not shake: the awareness that you are here, now, breathing.

That’s a certainty no market, government, or belief can give you — and no disaster can take away until your last breath.

“Certainty is not knowing what will happen — it’s knowing you are here, able to feel this moment fully.”

Frameworks, Recipes, and the Experience They Can’t Give You

Political and religious systems often treat us as dangerous, needing control. But rules are just recipes — the real nourishment comes from direct experience.

Most political systems are built on a basic assumption: people are dangerous. Left to ourselves, we’ll cheat, steal, or worse.
The answer, we’re told, is to surround us with laws, regulations, and punishments to keep us in line.

Many religions operate on the same principle. Without commandments, rituals, and doctrine, people will wander off the “right path.” So the rules get stricter, the interpretations more rigid — and the assumption of human badness quietly shapes the whole structure.

But what happens when you build a system on mistrust? You get obedience, maybe — but rarely clarity, kindness, or genuine understanding.

Frameworks Have a Place — But Only as Tools

Rules, like recipes, can be useful. They give structure, they prevent chaos. But structure isn’t the meal.

A recipe can describe the flavours, the textures, even the joy of eating. But no matter how beautiful the description, you are still hungry until you take the first bite.
Sacred texts are like that: they can inspire, they can guide, but they are not the experience of truth itself.

The Interpreter Problem

In both politics and religion, there’s always someone standing between you and the meal — the “chef” who decides how the recipe should be followed.
Their interpretation becomes law. Debate shifts from tasting the food to arguing about the recipe’s exact wording. Over time, the meal gets forgotten altogether.

This creates dependency: on lawmakers to tell us what’s moral, on religious authorities to tell us what’s true. The risk is obvious — we become fluent in theory, but starved of direct experience.

Obedience Isn’t the Same as Understanding

External control can stop certain behaviours, but it can’t make people compassionate. You can force compliance; you can’t force connection.

In the same way, you can memorise every page of a holy book and still never feel the peace it describes. Words point the way, but only experience nourishes.

A Different Starting Point

Imagine if our systems began with a different assumption: that people are basically good, but disconnected from their own goodness.

Politics would focus less on control and more on creating conditions where kindness and cooperation naturally emerge. Religion would focus less on “right belief” and more on helping people taste what the words point to.

The Real Work

Frameworks can guide us. Recipes can inspire us. But they are not the meal.
And the meal — whether you call it peace, truth, or connection — is the whole point.

Until you take the bite yourself, you are only reading about food. And no matter how fine the recipe, reading will never fill you.