Beyond linear paths
Why do we think about futures? As anticipatory beings, we’ve evolved to imagine and prepare for what’s ahead. But in today’s complex world, is traditional strategy enough—or is it time to evolve?
Why do we think about futures? As anticipatory beings, we’ve evolved to imagine and prepare for what’s ahead. But in today’s complex world, is traditional strategy enough—or is it time to evolve?
If you can find warmth in the longest night, seeing light not as certainty but as motion, a shifting glow against the vast unknown. If you can hold the weight of silence without naming it fear, letting the absence become a form of presence, an invitation to breathe. If you
December is full of contradictions—the year closes, yet the world feels impossibly full. Lights shine on long nights, reminders that even darkness holds a spark of hope. Christmas invites us to reflect on the tangle of past, present, and future, offering pathways not to predict but to participate.
The Cyclops, one eye fixed on the world, sees only what lies before it. Depth dissolves into certainty, a singular truth, unbroken but incomplete. Complexity shimmers beyond its gaze, an intricate weave of ripples and roots, where nothing stands alone, where every part speaks to another. Hierarchies cling to their
Participation is key to Futures Work, yet often resisted by hierarchies valuing efficiency over collaboration. Its value lies in complexity's nature.