What if Collapse is the Beginning?

We often imagine collapse as something loud — sirens, floods, fire. But what if it’s not? What if it’s quieter than that? Closer? Already here?

I used to think collapse would be obvious. That I’d see it on the news, or hear it in the streets. That there would be a moment when everyone stopped, looked around, and said, “This is it.”

But collapse, real collapse, doesn’t always look like a single dramatic event. Sometimes, it looks like burnout. Like emotional numbness. Like systems that keep functioning on the surface while hollowing out underneath. Like people who care deeply… slowly shutting down.

It took me a long time to recognise my own collapse. I was still making things. Still posting. Still producing. But inside, something had stopped. The meaning had drained out of it. I wasn’t living… I was coping. Keeping busy so I wouldn’t feel too much. Sound familiar?

Collapse doesn’t mean the end. It means the end of *what was.*

And maybe just maybe, that’s not something to fear.

The systems many of us grew up in were never built for justice, wholeness, or belonging. They were built for extraction. Disconnection. Control. So when those systems start to break, it’s terrifying — but it might also be the first honest thing they’ve ever done.

I’m not romanticising collapse. It’s painful. It’s grief. It’s uncertainty. But it can also be an invitation. An unravelling that makes space for something else.

That something could be community. Or art. Or rest. Or courage. It could be a new story… one we get to write together. One that doesn’t pretend we’re okay when we’re not, but still dares to imagine something better.

So what if collapse is the beginning?

Not the end of the world but the end of pretending. The end of isolation. The end of white-knuckling through it all alone.

What if this is the moment where we let go not because we’ve given up, but because we’ve finally stopped trying to hold up something that was never whole?

Maybe then… we start again. Slower. Truer. Together.

Thanks for reading. If this resonated with you, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Feel free to share, comment, or reach out. We’re not alone in this.

Want to explore this idea further?

Nate Hagens’ “Three Spheres of Collapse” is a powerful systems-level reflection on why collapse isn’t just environmental or economic — it’s cultural, emotional, and deeply human.

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