I can tell you from my 74 y.o. vantage point, that things get worse. There are health issues,
physical pain, mental anguish, and the loss of friends and family. BUT we must avoid the Gap. We must practice our whole life to avoid falling into it. You will need that practice. It gets easier to let go of crappola, and beauty is everywhere. Happy fucking 2026.
The balance between being aware of the enshittification of the world and feeling prepared to deal with what comes and still managing your day-to-day existence without falling down the despair tunnel is such a delicate thing to sustain. And as others have said, your essays are an essential tool for so many of us on this journey. Thank you thank you thank you.
Sincerely, thanks for sharing. I'm approaching 74; I have two sons around your age. I recall joining the younger one's kickball club for beer and pizza, and one of his friends asked how I bought my first home (in 1973). Suddenly, the whole group was listening intently to me, and amazed at how relatively easy it was, and the flexibility I had, just working a freight dock at a warehouse. So, and to some of your point: when I think about how much simpler my choices were, and how really difficult are their lives (and yours) now: it leaves me with moments of rage to see the inequity and the carelessness with which The Man and The Machine have upended what was a pretty OK existence of fifty years ago. I live small now, and endeavor to NOT feed The Machine, and to exhibit kindness to neighbors, and to those in harder straits. To validate your vexations and disappointments: yes, life is intentionally harder now for those not 'to the Manor born'. Hold fast.
Accepting the reality of collapse and the death of the world you knew is in my experience a bit like jumping on a life raft leaving a sinking ship. At first you will spend a while drifting, not knowing where you might end up or where you might land, perhaps even regretting leaving the sinking ship (at least you could’ve enjoyed a cosy bed and a glass of wine for a little longer lol!). But persist and something new will emerge, though bear in mind it will probably look very different to what you left behind.
Rosie... you are consistently the best, most creative, totally human writer and editor. Not to play favorites, but this one today became my #1 Rosie Spinks story. Would you prefer that I restack this or cross-post it to my community of Gifted Professionals and Communicators?
Two passages will hit them between the eyes and in their hearts:
1) I have a really powerful brain, by which I mean whatever I decide to direct my mental energy to, gets a lot of energy. Too much, you might say.
2) Beyond the low-grade panic of watching your profession recede, it’s also deeply wounding on a spiritual level to watch the most powerful, well-funded corporate entities in the world tear that apart. That they’re allowed to do that. That they don’t see what they’re destroying in the process. That so many people acquiesce. It’s yet another thing to grieve.
Well you said all of that (which I wish I could articulate in writing) much better than I could! I'm glad you wrote it even though you were worried it would seem negative; it needed to be documented I think. And you did it perfectly.
About a year ago, I found myself walking into a Walgreens on an errand for a sick friend. Outside was the usual assortment of street people. One person, sitting, face obscured by a hoodie, held a cardboard sign which declared that, “Nothing Helps.” The wry irony made me laugh. We all live with our harsh truths. So I guess, yeah, we have to find ways enjoy those too.
Hi. It’s of no consolation I’m sure but I feel there are many of us struggling to get out of the gap. It’s just so bloody depressing out there. One awful thing after the other. I’m immensely grateful not to be in a war torn country but wonder if there is any guarantee of that going forward. Keep up the good work. I look forward to your posts.
Thanks for translating The Gap into such clear language. It gives us all permission to grieve that chasm, and also acknowledge the tremendous power of finding others stranded in that liminal space, too—longing for a version of the world that feels out of reach and that we are committed to nonetheless. In her podcast with Joanna Macy, my friend Jess Serrante articulated the vulnerability of living your life "commitment to an improbability."
You are doing the capital "W" Work the world needs. Sending solidarity across the Atlantic. ♡
It is all really hard, and sometimes a reframe is the only way to help. Sometimes I reframe by telling myself that the world as we know it cannot be saved—that humanity didn’t deserve this planet and will die off just as the dinosaurs did. And it makes me feel better to think of Mother Earth repairing herself decades or centuries after we are gone when the lakes, streams, and oceans become clear again and full of life.
“… the fact that you can do all the right things and still find yourself in front of a mountain of shit” oof that hit home. As a fellow word person (more editor than writer), I share many of your worries - and appreciate the encouragement to keep finding joy. Thank you.
I can tell you from my 74 y.o. vantage point, that things get worse. There are health issues,
physical pain, mental anguish, and the loss of friends and family. BUT we must avoid the Gap. We must practice our whole life to avoid falling into it. You will need that practice. It gets easier to let go of crappola, and beauty is everywhere. Happy fucking 2026.
Thank you for sharing! Happy fucking 2026!
I like your writing and perspective. Thanks for keeping at it.
10 out of 10. No notes. Thank you for this.
I love this. Thank you so much.
The balance between being aware of the enshittification of the world and feeling prepared to deal with what comes and still managing your day-to-day existence without falling down the despair tunnel is such a delicate thing to sustain. And as others have said, your essays are an essential tool for so many of us on this journey. Thank you thank you thank you.
Sincerely, thanks for sharing. I'm approaching 74; I have two sons around your age. I recall joining the younger one's kickball club for beer and pizza, and one of his friends asked how I bought my first home (in 1973). Suddenly, the whole group was listening intently to me, and amazed at how relatively easy it was, and the flexibility I had, just working a freight dock at a warehouse. So, and to some of your point: when I think about how much simpler my choices were, and how really difficult are their lives (and yours) now: it leaves me with moments of rage to see the inequity and the carelessness with which The Man and The Machine have upended what was a pretty OK existence of fifty years ago. I live small now, and endeavor to NOT feed The Machine, and to exhibit kindness to neighbors, and to those in harder straits. To validate your vexations and disappointments: yes, life is intentionally harder now for those not 'to the Manor born'. Hold fast.
Tim Long, Just Up the Hill from Lock 15.
Accepting the reality of collapse and the death of the world you knew is in my experience a bit like jumping on a life raft leaving a sinking ship. At first you will spend a while drifting, not knowing where you might end up or where you might land, perhaps even regretting leaving the sinking ship (at least you could’ve enjoyed a cosy bed and a glass of wine for a little longer lol!). But persist and something new will emerge, though bear in mind it will probably look very different to what you left behind.
That's reassuring, thank you.
Rosie as someone who also fixates on the gap, I 100000% get this and also thank you.
Rosie... you are consistently the best, most creative, totally human writer and editor. Not to play favorites, but this one today became my #1 Rosie Spinks story. Would you prefer that I restack this or cross-post it to my community of Gifted Professionals and Communicators?
Two passages will hit them between the eyes and in their hearts:
1) I have a really powerful brain, by which I mean whatever I decide to direct my mental energy to, gets a lot of energy. Too much, you might say.
2) Beyond the low-grade panic of watching your profession recede, it’s also deeply wounding on a spiritual level to watch the most powerful, well-funded corporate entities in the world tear that apart. That they’re allowed to do that. That they don’t see what they’re destroying in the process. That so many people acquiesce. It’s yet another thing to grieve.
Well you said all of that (which I wish I could articulate in writing) much better than I could! I'm glad you wrote it even though you were worried it would seem negative; it needed to be documented I think. And you did it perfectly.
About a year ago, I found myself walking into a Walgreens on an errand for a sick friend. Outside was the usual assortment of street people. One person, sitting, face obscured by a hoodie, held a cardboard sign which declared that, “Nothing Helps.” The wry irony made me laugh. We all live with our harsh truths. So I guess, yeah, we have to find ways enjoy those too.
wise husband, wise Rosie, as eloquent as ever. hoping times treat you kinder soon xx
Hi. It’s of no consolation I’m sure but I feel there are many of us struggling to get out of the gap. It’s just so bloody depressing out there. One awful thing after the other. I’m immensely grateful not to be in a war torn country but wonder if there is any guarantee of that going forward. Keep up the good work. I look forward to your posts.
Thanks for translating The Gap into such clear language. It gives us all permission to grieve that chasm, and also acknowledge the tremendous power of finding others stranded in that liminal space, too—longing for a version of the world that feels out of reach and that we are committed to nonetheless. In her podcast with Joanna Macy, my friend Jess Serrante articulated the vulnerability of living your life "commitment to an improbability."
You are doing the capital "W" Work the world needs. Sending solidarity across the Atlantic. ♡
Thank you for this lovely comment.
It is all really hard, and sometimes a reframe is the only way to help. Sometimes I reframe by telling myself that the world as we know it cannot be saved—that humanity didn’t deserve this planet and will die off just as the dinosaurs did. And it makes me feel better to think of Mother Earth repairing herself decades or centuries after we are gone when the lakes, streams, and oceans become clear again and full of life.
“… the fact that you can do all the right things and still find yourself in front of a mountain of shit” oof that hit home. As a fellow word person (more editor than writer), I share many of your worries - and appreciate the encouragement to keep finding joy. Thank you.
thank you for this article!
Wow. Just wow. No notes. This is the reframe I needed. Thank you, Rosie.