David's Blog

 At the Turning Point: Transition, Resistance, and the Hope for Awakening

We are living through a great transition. You can feel it in the air—an unsettling, unstable pull between the old and the new. Some call it the Age of Aquarius, others a shift in consciousness, or simply a changing world. Whatever the name, the signs are everywhere: something is breaking down, and something else is trying to be born.

But transitions are never gentle. They stir up the dust, they shake the foundations, and they often reveal just how attached we are to what is familiar—even if what’s familiar no longer serves us. In these moments, resistance reaches its peak. That resistance comes dressed in many forms: political backlash, conspiracy theories, religious rigidity, the craving for “strong leaders,” the refusal to listen, the denial of truth.

It’s no surprise. Every dying paradigm fights to preserve itself. Like a cornered animal, it lashes out—not out of strength, but fear.

Watching Prem Rawat speak recently from Westlake, California, I saw this truth not just in the world around me, but in his eyes. As he spoke about the preciousness of life, of each breath, and the coming certainty of death, his voice cracked with emotion. He almost broke into tears—not out of sentimentality, but out of a deep, aching love. A frustration, perhaps, that so few of us grasp what is truly at stake. We argue about everything, chase illusions, divide ourselves endlessly—and all the while, the most extraordinary gift is right under our noses: we are alive.

The low point of any transition is the moment when it seems nothing will change. When consciousness appears to have lost the battle to noise, distraction, and stupidity. But maybe, just maybe, this is the very point where the tide begins to turn. When enough people become so disillusioned with the chaos that they finally turn inward and begin to listen—to themselves, to their breath, to what matters.

Hope, in this context, isn’t blind optimism. It’s the quiet strength that emerges from awareness. The hope that comes from knowing: even if the world is asleep, I can be awake. Even if others choose noise, I can choose clarity. And if I can, perhaps others will too.

This is the real work now—not fighting the old, but nurturing the new. Honouring the transition, facing the resistance, and holding a space where consciousness can root itself and grow. Before we destroy ourselves with cleverness and forget the simple joy of being.

We’re at the turning point. And what turns now, turns everything.