How You Can Help Weave the Framework for the New Earth!

Tiny Acts, Big Ripples: Conscious Choices Weave a Brighter Future

Let’s start with a tribute to Jane Goodall, one of my all-time heroes. Her passing, while not surprising at the age of 91, came as a blow to me and the world.

One of her most famous quotes was: “What you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of difference you want to make.”

A big difference she made was awakening the world to the complex emotional lives of animals, particularly chimpanzees. That is one thread in weaving the framework of the New Earth.

Each one of us has our own thread to add. What actions, large or small, are you weaving into the New Earth framework? What kind of difference do you want to make?

Imagine waking up one morning, or every morning, with the sense that the universe has quietly rearranged the furniture.

The clouds might be puffier, the barista smiles wider, and even your neighbor’s dog—the one that usually sounds like it’s auditioning for a werewolf movie—wags its tail instead of barking. Something has shifted in your consciousness.

Maybe you’ve felt it before. In the hush before sunrise. In the middle of a song that gave you goosebumps. In that split second where life seems to whisper, “Hey, things could actually be better than you think.”

That feeling? That’s the pulse of the New Earth beating under the surface of the mundane world.

And no, it isn’t going to arrive with trumpets blaring or governments dissolving overnight.

It’s more like sourdough starter. Slow. Quiet. Alive. The kind of thing you don’t notice until suddenly you’re eating the best bread of your life and wondering why you ever settled for Wonder Bread. (And it even comes in gluten-free!)

Our World Is Thirsty

Right now, much of our world feels parched. Parched for connection, for meaning, for truth that doesn’t come packaged with hashtags or served with a side of “click here to make seven figures.”

We’re all craving belonging (it’s human nature), and not just the “I liked your post” kind. The real kind. The kind you feel when someone calls you out of the blue and invites you out for lunch or a walk.

And here’s where you can make a difference: the planet doesn’t just need activists or innovators or billionaires with space fetishes. It needs you.

Your creativity. Your passion. Your weird doodles, your experimental pizza, your holding the door for a stranger.

Because every time you do something consciously kind or even mildly creative, you’re throwing a pebble into the pond of collective uplift.

The ripples are invisible, yes. But they’re real.

Small Acts, Big Shifts

Here’s an example. Last week, someone painted a rock. Not a masterpiece, just a lopsided spiral in blue and gold. They left it on a hiking trail.

A kid picked it up, showed it to his sister, and she started singing some impromptu song about a magic rock. Suddenly their mom was laughing instead of doomscrolling on her phone. Boom: three people’s moods lifted because of one two-minute doodle.

That’s the thing. You wont get a Yelp review for planting hope. Nobody’s going to email you saying, “Thank you for that compost pile, it saved my soul.” But the energy still spreads like magic.

Writing in a journal. Planting tomatoes. Smiling at the cashier. Meditating on compassion instead of chewing over the latest headline.

These tiny things are the acupuncture needles of the universe, shifting energy in ways you’ll feel, but never fully trace.

Creativity as Permission

One of my favorite Bashar-isms is that permission slips are everywhere. A song, a workshop, even a cheesy rom-com—they can all be “permission slips” that remind you it’s okay to shine.

Creativity is like that. It gives us permission to imagine a different way of being.

The New Earth isn’t going to be designed by committee—thank goodness! It’s not going to come stamped and approved by a Department of Mystical Affairs.

It’s being quilted together right under our noses, patch by patch, from all our small acts of beauty and bravery.

Maybe that means you finally write that poem. Or try a new recipe that makes your kitchen smell like heaven. Or finally tell a friend, “Hey, I appreciate you.”

Compassion: Creativity’s Twin Flame

Of course, creativity without compassion can sometimes look like ego on a bender. (See: reality TV.)

What turns creative acts into seeds for the New Earth is compassion.

Not the saccharine “thoughts and prayers” kind, but the gritty, real kind. The kind where you listen when someone’s hurting, or you forgive yourself for snapping at the kids, or you show up with homemade soup for your sick neighbor.

Compassion is creativity’s twin flame. Together, they weave the invisible web that’s slowly lifting us all.

Why This Matters Now

Here’s the truth: the old systems are cracking. You’ve probably noticed.

Old ways of thinking are wobbling. The headlines will tell you it’s all falling apart, but another story is unfolding right underneath. A story of people choosing kindness, choosing creativity, choosing not to buy into the lie that we’re powerless.

The most radical thing you might do this week isn’t marching on the Capitol. It might be picking up a paintbrush. Or writing a blog post. Or choosing to sing with friends instead of grumbling.

The New Earth doesn’t need permission slips—those are just for you.

The New Earth is already here, humming underneath the static. You can tap into it right now—whenever you raise your vibration with kindness, fun and your unique creative flow.

And the more of us who plug into that frequency, the more undeniable it becomes.

An Invitation

So here’s my invitation:

• Try one small act of conscious creativity today. Doesn’t matter if it’s “good.” Doodle. Bake. Write. Dance. Knit something crooked.
• Then pair it with one act of compassion. Again, doesn’t have to be headline-worthy. Forgive yourself for the thing you keep replaying in your head at 2 AM. Compliment a stranger’s scarf. Water your neighbor’s flowers while they’re out of town.

Do these things not because you’re trying to change the world (though you will), but because they feel good—and when you feel good, you uplift the energy of the whole.

They remind you who you really are. They tune you into that shimmering vision that’s already here, quietly rearranging the furniture of reality.

One creative act. One compassionate choice. That’s how the invisible web gets stronger. That’s how the New Earth shows up—not as an apocalypse, but as an upgrade.

When you start to see it, the shift has already begun—for you. But maybe not for everyone yet.

Timelines are splitting. Reality is feeling wonky as we make our choices about what kind of world we want to live in.

Like attracts like, so we find ourselves resonating with certain people and ideas more strongly than ever. The rest will eventually fade out of our awareness, even if others choose to stay there. You get to choose!

Want to know how you can consciously tap into the New Earth? Check out my WulfWorks.com portal site where I share my favorite personal permission slips with you.