In Canada, a mother can serve a maximum of five years in prison for killing her newborn. Often, she serves far less. This law exists as an acknowledgment of the realities of early motherhood—its psychological strain, its physical toll, and its capacity to overwhelm. The United States doesn’t have a clean equivalent at the federal […]
If a solar flare wipes out electricity, AI collapses and digital money fractures. What survives isn’t technology—it’s human judgment, trust, and skills. True resilience lies not in optimization, but in orientation, relationships, and the foundations of meaning that endure when the lights go out.
There is a wall in front of you, one behind, one to your left, and one to your right. Above you a fifth wall, below you a sixth. Inside this container is everything that’s you—what drives you, what hurts you, what tempts you, just you.
We’ve been taught to think that growth means building bigger, taller, more—but systems built this way are fragile, brittle, and blind to nuance. Real resilience comes from scaling outward, not upward—like a garden, not a tower. Scale built this way doesn’t just endure—it flourishes.
We’ve been conditioned to think that order comes from rules, oversight, and enforcement. That control is the default. The logic is simple: if people don’t follow the rules, punish them. If they follow the rules, reward them. It works…until it doesn’t.
In an era defined by infinite everything, it’s the empty space that has become most scarce. And if scarcity equals value, those who can get to nothing are the richest among us.
Influencer culture runs on the quiet assumption that we have an infinite well of care to draw from. But if you’re human, you already know the truth: that well is shallow, and it always runs dry. We weren’t built to pour ourselves into thousands of half-relationships at once.
The market is starting to reflect what many have quietly known: that quality holds, even when everything else begins to slide. Toronto’s condo crash isn’t just a real estate correction—it’s a cultural one. For too long, we’ve traded durability for speed, depth for scale. But the returns are showing: people don’t want more, they want better.
An economy built solely on scarcity and speed loses sight of meaning. Pairing money with a parallel currency based on resonance, intention, and coherence offers a way to restore balance, trust, and emotional truth to how we exchange value.
The problem isn’t ambition—it’s orientation. When we begin with internal clarity instead of external achievement, we stop reacting to a system that profits off our disorientation and start designing one that helps us define what really matters.
Septima Elle 