Dear Future Human,

Ronit again, from the year 2025.

I am present to feeling self-conscious as I write to you, a future human whose needs, wants, or even fate I have no way of anticipating. Thankfully, most of my life I have moved into action not because I was motivated by knowledge, but rather driven by some inner guide, some compelling force I couldn’t resist. This has been true for many of my decisions, some of which looked outrageous and irrational from the outside. But as a result, I have always been attuned to my needs and values, as well as to the needs of the people in my life.

For now, I am going to work on releasing my self-consciousness but keeping my humility, which keeps me—and all of us—open to not knowing and learning.

If my suspicions about a future calamity are correct, I can only imagine the broken world you have inherited. I imagine that millions of lives have been lost, along with many institutions, frameworks, databases, archives, and much of our cutting-edge knowledge. If that's the case, and my letters have somehow made it through, I hope they can offer you some guidance as you work to survive and rebuild society.

As I mentioned in the previous letter to you, I was unable to reach the people of my time—or rather, I was unable to reach enough of them. It wasn’t that they failed to recognize the concerns I raised. On the contrary, they wrote books, participated in discussions on podcasts and YouTube channels, produced films, and engaged in countless political and policy debates, all acknowledging the dire predicament we faced. Their ability to intellectually analyze and describe the crisis—explaining why it was happening and offering numerous solutions—did not appear to lead them to pause, turn inward, and acknowledge that these discussions were not translating into needed actionable change. Despite recognizing the unsustainable nature of our irrational and dangerous behaviors, I was unable to inspire them to contemplate their potential role in shaping a new future—one that would usher in a major shift, both individually and collectively. Unsurprisingly, they remained anchored to their frame of reference and their identity. In future letters, I will explore what I believe to be the key obstacles that contributed to their lack of motivation—namely, ingrained habits, fear of the unknown, and the role money plays in our society that constrains our creative potential.

I hope I can reach you.

I have learned, based on my extensive experiences working with people in crisis and trauma, that it is precisely in moments of collapse that people can become most open to learning: adopting new habits, even embracing paradigm shifts.1 It is in times of upheaval that transformation becomes not just possible, but necessary.

Conversely, when people are comfortable in their routines—even if that comfort includes suffering—they have little awareness of or motivation to embrace opportunities for empowerment, freedom, or inner peace, which usually requires breaking ingrained habits or entering the unfamiliar.

Comfort, familiarity, a sense of control and the illusion of certainty are among the greatest obstacles to growth.

The painful truth I had to accept is that, for most of us, true transformation occurs through crisis or awe. It takes a profound disruption—whether through the terror of loss, the shattering of assumptions, or the breathtaking wonder of something greater than ourselves—to break through the barriers of habit and resistance. This is not a criticism, but rather an observation of our current human condition—we are not wired to perceive and act upon distant threats until they become imminent.

I have to assume you, Future Human, are either still in the midst of crisis, or perhaps beginning to emerge on the other side, and contending with the consequences of what unfolded. If you are still in survival mode, you may not be able to digest this or future letters until you get some breathing space. But this disaster must not pass without lessons.

My observations and experiences may offer you valuable insights—insights that could help you build a more resilient foundation for the future of humanity. There are critical lessons to be learned, ones that can be applied to reshape and strengthen your society moving forward.

Since I have no other means of reaching you except through these letters, I will do my best to share my experiential knowledge in the most tangible way possible. I will strive to paint a coherent and relatable picture—one that weaves together the many elements that shape our current perceptions, beliefs, and behaviors. A part of me sees the full picture in my mind, yet I’ve never tried to gather, organize, and express all these threads in one place. So please bear with me.

Please understand that the information I share with you, while grounded in extensive research and clinical experience, is not intended to be exhaustive. Rather, it is curated to highlight the most essential elements necessary to support the larger framework I am presenting. It draws from the work of many researchers, clinicians, and instructors I have studied, along with my own clinical observations, experiences, and intuition accumulated over more than forty years.

For now, I hope you will accept these letters, and the insight they may provide you, as proof of my duty on this planet: to act as a small part of the creative imperative, that joins all of us, elements of Nature, together in intricate, ever-unfolding patterns of invention and renewal. Please forgive the winding and intricate path I may take as I weave together the many threads of my life experience. By the end, my hope is to convey my vision to you in a clear and methodical manner, enriched with personal and anecdotal examples so that it may hold meaning and value for you, no matter what time and what conditions you find yourself in when these letters reach you.

This endeavor is profoundly challenging for me, both emotionally and intellectually. So much so, that I often feel like giving up.

But I can’t. And I won’t.

That is my promise to you, Future Human.

Love,

Ronit