Adaptability: When Control Isn’t Enough
74,000 years ago, the Toba supervolcano in Indonesia erupted so violently it nearly wiped out humanity. Only a few thousand survived — not by controlling the eruption, but by adapting to an unrecognisable new world.
Fast-forward to today. The new “eruption” is technological. AI is reshaping industries at a pace that feels both exciting and terrifying.
Jobs are shifting, roles are evolving, and entire systems are being rewritten.
And just like nature, the future is unpredictable. Survival won’t come from clinging to what we know. It will come from adaptability.
For me, the lesson landed in an everyday, inconvenient way. Recently, I jumped into my car ready to head to work — only to find it wouldn’t start. Lights flashing. Beeping. An error message repeating: “Park brake unavailable.” A flat battery had forced me to stop.
At first, it was just frustrating. Delays. Missed meetings. Waiting for roadside assist. But then I noticed the symbolism. My car was telling me: you can’t “park” your energy here anymore. Something has to shift.
That forced pause created space. I realised my Google storage was full and used the hour to clear out seven years of attachments. They were being held in my inbox as a just-in-case scenario — rental agreements, house builds, fixtures chosen, decisions made. Documents that once anchored big transitions, but no longer served my present. I’d been keeping them to feel safe.
Yet all they were doing was weighing me down.
It became a bigger metaphor: we cannot keep adding — more information, more tasks, more responsibilities — without letting go. At some point, we must release what was once useful in order to make room for what’s next. Adaptability isn’t just about global eruptions like AI or natural disasters. It’s also about these personal signals — the flashing warnings that say “you can’t park here anymore.”
That’s when we’re invited to pause, vent, reflect, release, and restore.
Anchors make this possible:
- Somatic practice — noticing where the stress sits in the body and breathing into it.
- Gratitude — even for the disruption itself, which creates space we wouldn’t otherwise take.
- Inner safety — remembering that worth is not tied to control or output, but to presence.
- Meditation — creating deliberate space by focusing on nothing but the breath. Training ourselves to stop, be totally present, and witness life without rushing to fix it.
Meditation builds the inner muscle of adaptability by showing us that stillness itself can be a form of strength.
Adaptability, then, is not just strategy — it’s an inner practice. A way of building trust with life when the ego insists on control. Whether it’s a volcano, an algorithm, or a flashing dashboard, eruptions will always come.
What determines our future is how we meet them: clinging to control, or releasing into the flow that restores us.
