There is a feeling in the air right now that’s hard to deny, even if people are still arguing about what to call it. Something is rising, as if from a great depth… sometimes it feels like a volcano, sometimes it feels like the sea is rising. It is happening everywhere… all at once.
And it is making something break.
You see it in the escalation of wars and the widening circles of conflict. You feel it at the gas pump, in the grocery aisle, in the quiet calculations people are making about what they can no longer afford. You hear it in the language of fear, in the hardening of identities, in the rising hostility between neighbor and neighbor. You see it in the streets, where enforcement begins to look less like law and more like force. And you sense it in the growing number of people who no longer believe the system they live under is stable—or even survivable.
Call it instability. Call it fracture. Call it the early tremors of something much larger.
Or call it what it may actually be: the beginning of a fall.
In Sapience: The Moment Is Now, there is a dream—a vision experienced by a man trying to answer a question that may be the most important one humanity has ever faced:
How do we transform human consciousness so that, if we survive what’s coming, we don’t rebuild the same broken world?
What he sees is not a distant future. It feels uncomfortably close.
He sees a species that has become more ferocious than any predator it once feared—not because of strength, but because of blindness. A blindness born not of stupidity, but of disconnection. Disconnection from nature. From reality. From the deeper layers of the self that understand complexity, interdependence, and consequence.
Instead, modern life has trained us to live inside ideas.
We mistake models for reality. Narratives for truth. Memes for meaning.
We’ve been taught to scan the world in lines—headlines, feeds, slogans—while reality itself unfolds as a vast, interconnected field where everything is happening at once. The result is a dangerous simplification. A thinning of perception. A kind of collective “ignore-ance”—not just ignorance, but an active ignoring of what doesn’t fit the story we’ve been handed or have chosen to believe.
And from that place, we act.
We act on partial truths. On distorted fears. On inherited divisions. On identities that feel solid but are, in many cases, carefully constructed and continuously reinforced.
We act as if we are separate—from each other, from the environment, from consequence itself.
But there is no such separation.
There is no human being without an environment any more than there is a heart without a body. What we are doing to the world, we are doing to ourselves. And yet, the dominant mindset still treats nature as an adversary to be controlled, extracted from, or defeated.
That is not just an error.
It is a fatal one.
In the dream, people begin to feel it—though they don’t understand it. A rising pressure. A loss of coherence. A creeping sense that something fundamental has gone wrong.
And instead of turning inward—toward deeper awareness, toward integration—they are pushed further outward into fragmentation.
The pace of life accelerates. Information fragments into smaller and more emotionally charged pieces. Cultural understanding collapses into viral units—memes that spread faster than truth and stick harder than nuance. These fragments don’t deepen awareness; they inflame reaction.
And slowly, almost invisibly at first, humanity is herded into shallower and shallower waters of consciousness.
Waters too shallow to sustain a thinking, feeling, interconnected species.
Cut off from what the book calls the Primordial Being—that deeper, integrated awareness capable of holding complexity—people begin to unravel. Some sink into despair. Others lash out. Many retreat into hardened psychological bunkers.
Fear becomes the dominant currency.
And fear does what fear always does: it divides, isolates, and escalates.
In the dream, this psychological fragmentation doesn’t stay internal. It spills outward into the physical world.
The environment degrades under the weight of unchecked consumption and short-term thinking. Air thickens. Waters choke. Waste piles into monuments of excess. The systems designed to sustain life begin to buckle under the strain.
At the same time, social systems fracture.
Trust erodes. Cooperation collapses. Violence—both personal and collective—rises. Not everywhere at once, but enough, and often enough, to shift the overall balance.
People begin to turn on each other.
Not because they are inherently evil—but because they are overwhelmed, disconnected, and operating from a distorted sense of reality.
In that state, even “civilized instinct” becomes dangerous. It is no longer guided by wisdom or awareness, but by centuries of conditioning layered over fear and scarcity.
The result is a world that feels increasingly unrecognizable.
Unstable.
Unsafe.
Insane.
And here is the hardest part to confront:
In the dream, the fall is not caused by a single event.
It is the cumulative result of millions—billions—of small actions taken from a fragmented state of mind.
The tipping point comes not because there were no good people left. There were many. There were even good groups, good efforts, real attempts to change course.
But the balance had shifted too far.
Fear outweighed cooperation.
Division outpaced unity.
Reaction overwhelmed reflection.
And so, when the moment came to act together—to truly confront the climate crisis, to de-escalate conflict, to reimagine systems—the collective capacity simply wasn’t there.
Not because it was impossible.
But because the consciousness required to do it had not been cultivated.
That is the warning embedded in the dream.
And that is why it matters now.
Because if you’re paying attention, you can feel how close we are to that tipping dynamic—not necessarily to an immediate, singular collapse, but to a continued slide driven by fragmentation, fear, and disconnection.
The point is not to declare that collapse is inevitable.
But it is equally dangerous to pretend that nothing fundamental is happening.
The real question is this:
What do we do with this awareness?
If the core problem is fragmentation of consciousness, then no purely external solution—political, technological, or economic—will be enough on its own.
Those matter. They are necessary.
But they are downstream.
Upstream is perception. Awareness. The ability to hold complexity without collapsing into fear or simplistic narratives. The willingness to reconnect—with reality, with each other, and with the deeper layers of our own minds.
That kind of shift is harder than protest. Harder than policy. Harder than innovation.
It requires discipline.
It requires honesty.
And it requires resisting the constant pull toward outrage, simplification, and psychological retreat.
You don’t fix a fragmented world with a fragmented mind.
So as protests rise, as tensions escalate, as the world feels increasingly unstable, the work is not just “out there.”
It’s in here.
Because if we carry the same patterns of thought—the same reactive instincts, the same shallow processing—into whatever comes next, we will rebuild the same conditions that led us here.
Different faces. Same outcome.
That is the cycle the dream is trying to break.
Not just survival.
But transformation.
The moment we’re in right now is not just political or economic.
It is psychological.
And whether this is a death spiral or a turning point depends, in no small part, on whether enough people are willing to move beyond the surface… and learn how to think, perceive, and act from a deeper place.
That’s not a comforting conclusion.
But it is an honest one.
And at this stage, honesty may be the most necessary starting point we have.
Excerpt — Sapience: The Moment Is Now
Dream Yong Xing-li has as he nears understanding how to Transform human consciousness on a scale never before achieved in human history, a transformation necessary so that humans do not go right back over the Climate Cliff that very nearly annihilates all life on Earth (including human) during the 21st Century (our time now).
Modern Man is more ferocious, savage, and feral than the most dangerous animal on Earth. He ignores the balances and limits nature worked out over eons of time on others. He blames his own Element of Irreducible Rascality, his shadow, his Yetzer Hara, his sin on others.
Disconnected from his inner most nature, Modern Man acts in ignorance wherever he goes. This ignore-ance is his greatest evil. Deeds done in the name of ignorance are more savage than the biggest, baddest saurian ever was. Instead, man feels himself to be as the English poet Alfred Edward Housman wrote: “I, a stranger and afraid, in a world I never made.” His feeling of utter alienation in an unintelligent universe leaves him feeling trapped inside his own skin and at war with the blind, stupid forces of nature and the universe. But, this feeling it due to an idea based on 19th century commonsense that human beings are fluke in nature and if humanity does not fight nature, it will not be able to maintain its status as an intelligent fluke. And so, the war on nature rages based on a ghastly error of thinking, a way of living in the world that can only examine the world in lines like a scanner. Therefore modern education takes so long, each child must scan miles of lines of print just to know the basic stuff man has come to understand about himself, society, nature, and the universe. But the world does not come at us in lines. It comes at us in a multi-dimensional continuum of everything happening together everywhere at once. In short, man ideas of reality are paltry substitutes for what it really is and basing actions on ideas has led humanity to an all-out war with nature, which is really himself for you do not find a man without an environment and if man leaves the atmosphere of Earth, he must take a canned version of his environment with him just as he must take his legs, arms, and head with him—they go together—man and environment are the same thing for there is no man without a sufficiently complicated environment to support bodies and living beings.
And so, Modern Man hassled and stressed and often beholden to men greater than himself who held the power, money, and authority to dictate his life, increasingly based his deeds and actions around ideas. At first, many Modern people based their lives around religious ideas and cultural norm, but increasingly as these fabrics of society frayed, he based core beliefs on memes, a unit of cultural information spread by imitation such as a practice, a ceremony, an image, a story, or a joke passed between people. As the pace of modern life got faster and faster, the unit of cultural information was diluted and reduced to tiny bits of polarizing ideas that spread like virulent viruses through the world wide web increasingly replacing the world of nature with the world of ideas created by men.
Without even knowing it, the Good People of Earth had been herded into conscious waters too shallow to sustain them. Here most of the humanity were trapped by their circumstance dictated by harsh and heartless economic realities created by men who had more than them and desired even. Carefully taught over centuries of civilization not to swim into the deeper waters of their own consciousness, Modern Man became more and more divorced from their Primordial Being who knows the world is vastly more complicated than a mere idea, fact, or fantasy. Cut off from the very part of themselves that could help them most, people sank into deep pits of hopelessness, sadness, and despair. Others lash out in cruel ways further polarizing the rising Sea of Unconsciousness flooding the ground of civilization all modern people stood, the unconsciousness pouring out of each person cut off from their Primordial Being. It was a sea choked with of carbon waste piled into high mountains of garbage; filling rivers with poop and plastic; and filling the air with Methane and CO2 pumped out by the machines Modern man used to save time, cut costs, and save labor.
People adopted a locked down, bunker, and siege mentality.
It was hell.
Instinct takes over…
…but it was a Civilized Instinct…
…one misshaped after centuries of social programming.
Just before the fall, the suicide and homicide rates rose exponentially. Big and little wars broke out all over the world. Husbands turned on wives… wives turned on husbands… children turned on parents… neighbor on neighbor. Nobody felt safe or normal anymore. There were plenty of good people and even a good number of good collectives in the world, but the balance had tipped too far. The slide over the climate cliff was inevitable because instead of acting together to mitigate climate change, fear and hopelessness had been poured on the Flames of Division, further fragmentating and polarizing the Sea of Unconsciousness.
The world has gone insane…
Chapter: Megs, p. 378 – 79
