The storm had arrived unexpectedly, powerful and relentless. In South Florida, as the winds picked up and the rain poured, the reality of the hurricane’s force became clear. It was a chaotic scene. Major intersections, once meticulously controlled by traffic lights, went dark, throwing drivers into a whirlwind of confusion. Three lanes in each direction—six lanes total at the busiest crossroads—now became a tangled mess, with no one certain who had the right of way. A seemingly small disruption, but one that snowballed into accidents, stress, and delays, exposing just how fragile our everyday systems were. What was once orderly and predictable, suddenly wasn’t.
This was reminiscent of Brexit, a political decision that promised liberation from the EU but, instead, unleashed chaos. The British public, much like those in Florida facing the hurricane, were promised freedom, but found themselves stranded in confusion when the systems they relied on began to break down. Trade routes were disrupted, relationships strained, and the economy faltered. What seemed to be a simple and desirable change spiraled into a quagmire of uncertainty. There was no clear direction, no understanding of what would come next.
And yet, the analogy doesn’t end there. The true parallel lies in the actions of those in power—the disruptor. Whether in Florida or the UK, or even within the walls of our own government, we see the consequences of an administration that promises to “disrupt” the status quo, claiming it will bring better days. They present their vision as a shining new future, unencumbered by bureaucracy or old systems, offering the allure of simplicity and change. But, just like in Florida and Brexit, it’s the chaos that follows that reveals the unintended consequences of that disruption.
The question, of course, is why would people fall for such a vision? What makes disruption so alluring? The answer lies in a collective yearning for change—an impulse to break free from systems that seem outdated, corrupt, or inefficient. A belief that the familiar, though flawed, can be reshaped into something better. But what happens when the disruption goes too far? When the structures we depend on—those we thought were holding us back—begin to crumble, revealing the dangers of what was lost in the rush for “freedom”?
To the rescue comes our furry friend; with its tail wagging the dog. At first, the disruptor seems to be in control, steering the ship in the direction they see fit. But as the chaos grows, as the consequences of their decisions hit home, something begins to shift. The very people who once supported the disruptor start to feel the weight of the fallout. They’re stuck in traffic, stuck in a system that no longer works, and they begin to realize that the change they hoped for may have been too reckless. The disruptor may have intended to change things for the better, but the feedback they receive from those affected by the chaos begins to pull them back.
The tail—representing the collective voices of those who were impacted by the disruption—starts to wag the dog. This isn’t just metaphorical; it’s real, tangible change. As more and more people speak out, express their frustrations, and call for a return to order, the disruptor can no longer ignore the shifting tide. What seemed like an exciting new path suddenly feels less clear, and the unwanted and unexpected consequences of the disruption grow harder to deny. Slowly, the disruptor is forced to recalibrate, to adapt to the realities of their decisions.
This feedback loop—where the actions of the disruptor are influenced by the voices of the people—is a powerful reminder that no administration, no matter how determined or forceful, can completely disregard the effects of their actions. In the case of both Brexit and the storm, it’s the people who ultimately hold the power. Even if they were initially swept up in the allure of change, their voices can create the course correction needed. The tail, after all, does have the power to wag the dog.
Spiritual Gravity 