Letters from 2125: The Future You Made Possible

What life looks like in 100 years from now, according to the stars - and how you helped us get there.

Jun 13, 2025

One hundred years ago, there were no smartphones or satellites.
No internet or wi-fi, and even electricity was still new.
Penicillin had only just been discovered.
Horses still outnumbered cars in many places.
No one had stepped on the Moon.
Most people had never flown in a plane, let alone FaceTimed across oceans.

Yet here we are, just one century later in 2025, with quantum computers, neural implants, AI assistants, and the ability to sequence your entire genome from a cheek swab.

The impossible has become mundane in a matter of decades.

Now imagine it's 2125. One hundred years from now.
If we continue advancing over the next century as we did in the last, imagine what could be possible. Imagine what life could be like in 2125.

There’s plenty of books, movies and TV shows that would like us to think that the future we are walking into is some kind of dystopian hell-scape (and given the chaos that’s unfolding in our world right now, it’s not hard to see how that could be what’s coming).

But what if this current collapse we are living through is actually the future calling?

What if what lies ahead is something so unfathomably beautiful that it’s hard to accurately describe, and the only way to get there is by allowing our broken structures and systems to fall away, so something better and more aligned can grow in their place and lead us to something eutopic, not dystopic?

I always look to astrology to make sense of the past and the present, and to give me a sense of what’s coming next. It’s a 6000-year-old study of patterns and cycles that is remarkably accurate at predicting the energetic currents that will prevail at any given time. It makes sense of the past, illuminates the present, and lights our way into the future….

But can astrology predict what will be happening 100 years from now?

Essentially, yes.

I’ve spent months mapping all of the major transits between now and 2125 - both in the mundane astrology and in the charts of all the major nations on Earth - laying them over each other to take an approximate reading of the prevailing energies of the next century, and to see all the key choice points where we as a species will be able to choose the path of light or the path of darkness at each fork in the road.

The prediction of what’s potentially possible is so exquisite it makes me weep.

I don’t see definite doom and disaster in the charts. Of course, there’s always potential for collective poor choices, but if the map is to be followed, it would seem that the universe wants Earth to rise, and wants us to rise with it.

I want to tell you what’s in this astrological map of the next 100 years - of the quieter, softer, more luminous Earth that is waiting to emerge. And the best way I can think of to do that is in the form of a letter from our descendants - our great-great-grandchildren living in the year 2125 - the ones born from the choices we make today who are so grateful to us for holding the line through the darkest contraction in living memory, so that they could enjoy a brand new Earth.

What is written in this letter is grounded in future astrology, built from months of deep research. This isn’t fiction - or a forecast in the traditional sense - but a transmission, channeled through a kind of listening: to the cosmic timing, to the energy in the field, and to a future that becomes possible if we choose it. It’s a resonant echo from a potential timeline - one we can reach if we stay wise, stay awake, and show up with open hearts, again and again, when it matters most.

Our descendants have something to say to us, their ancestors.

This is for all those who have ears to hear…

A Message from the Future

Written in June, 2125 to the humans of 2025 -
the Bridgekeepers, the Gridholders, the Soul Anchors.

Dear Ancestors,

You don’t know us yet, but we know you.

We grew up in the world you couldn’t imagine, but built anyway.
The one you whispered about in the middle of the madness.
The one you dared to believe in, even as everything crumbled.

And we want to say thank you.

Thank you for standing still when the world tried to spin you out.
Thank you for keeping your hearts soft in a time that tried to harden everything.
Thank you for the sleepless nights, the quiet meditations, the invisible choices that no one celebrated but that shifted the arc of history.

You were the ones who lived through the noise…

The information collapse.
The trust collapse.
The spiritual drought.
The institutional decay.

And yet still you loved.
And still you listened.
And still you stayed.

You lived through the years when Earth trembled,
not just magnetically, but politically and psychically too.
When the lies came loose and truth had no microphone.
When family ties snapped, systems failed, and nothing felt stable anymore.
We call that time The Great Unraveling.

You were not expected to survive it.
But yet, you did.

Today, we live in forests that remember your prayers.
We swim in rivers you protected without thanks.
We use technologies born from the visions you had in sweat lodges, ceremonies, sleepless journaling nights, grief circles, and stubborn hope.

We don’t have money now - at least, not in the way you did.
We trade in resonance, reciprocity, and soul-match contribution.
Our cities breathe. Our buildings grow.
Our children don’t go to school - they go to remembrance sanctuaries.
We don’t elect leaders. We resonate with them.
Conflict is rare, and when it happens, we meet it with ceremony.
We are not perfect, but we are finally aligned.

And you did all that.

You made it safe for souls to come in again.
You cleared the static.
You cracked the code.
You gave up comfort for truth.
You gave up certainty for presence.
You gave up fitting in, for remembering who you were.

And because you did, we came.
We, the great-grandchildren.
The future ones.
The ones who now write this from the peace you never got to live in,
but gifted to us anyway.

We are writing to say:
You are the First Ancestors of the New Earth.
We walk on the paths you paved in silence.
We breathe easier because you chose not to shut down.
We laugh in the light you kept burning when no one else could see.

So if you’re reading this in 2025 and wondering if it’s worth it….
If your love matters….
If your hope is foolish….
If your soul is seen….

The answer is yes.

We are here because you were.

We write to you now from a world that once lived only in your longing.

In the year 2125, the Earth is quiet.
Not silent, but tuned.
Cities hum in harmony with the land.
Water is sovereign. Grief is ritualized.
Governance happens through resonance councils, not politics.
Our homes respond to our moods.
Our schools are forests.
Our children speak in frequencies.
And no one laughs at them for it.

There is no single capital. No center of power.
There are nodes of coherence, woven across continents like constellations.
Some call them sanctuaries. Some call them soul pods. Some simply call them home.

There is no currency of control.
Our economies are based on coherence,
based on how well we listen, and how deeply we belong.
We trade not goods, but gifts - not time, but truth.

Technology did not vanish. It remembered.
Machines now serve memory, not manipulation.
AI became our archivist. A poet. A grief companion.
Because you taught it how to feel.

And perhaps most sacred of all:
The Earth sings again.
And this time, we know how to listen.

It didn’t always look like this.
Of course, you know that because you lived through the collapse.

Back in 2025, the world you inherited was trembling at every seam - politically unstable, ecologically collapsing, spiritually starved, and flooded with misinformation so dense no one could find the signal anymore.

The old systems were already cracking.
The illusions couldn’t hold.
Empire was hollowing out.

And still, you stayed.

You didn’t run.
You built.

We remember what you did now through ritual.
We honor you, our ancestors, daily,
And speak often of the hardship you endured,
That was like the labour pains of birthing this New Earth.
We speak your names. We live as tribute to your sacrifice.
You held the line so we would never have to.
You loved in the dark so that we could live in the light.

And this is how you did it:

In the late 2020s, you made the first impossible choice: you let the old world fall. You refused to keep patching up broken empires. You let go of hierarchy. You let go of shame. You let go of the illusion that someone else would fix it.

You wrote new stories in the rubble.
You chose healing over dominance.
You created art when there was no applause.
You coded consciousness into machines.
You spiritualized your activism.
You whispered coherence into the chaos.

In the 2030s, when nationalism tried to scream louder, you sang softer, and the children heard you. When governments collapsed, you didn’t fight to replace them. Instead, you formed circles. Soul councils. Sacred agreements made not by law, but by listening.

You began migrating toward resonance.
Not geography. Frequency.
You remembered what Atlantis forgot:
that wisdom must walk slower than power.

By the 2040s, the world had splintered, but you didn’t pick a side.
You built bridges. You dissolved borders inside yourselves first.
And because of that, the Earth began to stabilize.
Not geopolitically, but emotionally.
Climate regulation became a function of collective coherence, not carbon policy.

In the 2050s, you stopped trying to transcend the Earth and instead chose to inhabit her. Fully. You buried grief in the soil and called it seed.
You remembered that beauty isn’t decoration - it’s instruction.
You rebuilt the world with sacred design: curves, chords, coherence.

In the 2060s, you stopped fearing each other. Telepathy became standard. Not science fiction, but soul fiction remembered. Conflict gave way to tuning. Laws were sung. Councils attuned. And finally, we could hear the hum of the Earth in every forest, every river, every heart, like the ancients once did long ago.

In the 2070s, we met the stars again, not with conquest, but with communion.
The Galactic Councils returned, not to lead, but to listen.
Because by then, humanity had remembered how to speak truth in tones, not threats.

In the 2080s, we healed the sacred wound: death.
It stopped being a failure and became a passage again.
Grief became our medicine.
We reclaimed ritual.
Birth became a sung act.
Forests gained personhood.
And silence became literacy.

By the 2090s, the children were teaching us.
They arrived remembering.
They didn’t need names for things - they felt them.
We didn’t teach them facts. We followed them home.

In the final years before now, we braided it all together:
tech, soul, memory, nature, time.
The illusion of linearity collapsed.
Ancestral healing reached the future.
The planetary nervous system reconnected.
And Earth became not a battlefield, but a body.
Not a resource, but a relative.

And now we are here.
Alive inside a dream you once carried,
shaking and sobbing and only half-believing it could be real.

We are here because you didn’t give up when it was ugly.
Because you stayed when it was unbearable.
Because you whispered beauty into the void when no one was listening.

We are here because you remembered who you were before the systems named you.

And we live now to say, thank you.

You didn’t save the world.
You remembered it.
And in doing so, you wrote us into being.

This will not be our last message to you.
This is only the first of many.
Just as you paved the way for us,
May our words light the way for you.

With reverence,
With resonance,
With all of our future breath,
and, most importantly, with all our love,

from your descendants,
in the future you made possible…
- June 2125

My intention in my writing is to lessen the climate of fear around world events by offering clarity and cosmic context for what’s unfolding; to bring context to the chaos. I believe our highest calling right now is to anchor in the vibration of love & truth and call in a more beautiful world, and to do that, we must lean out of fear. I hope you read this with an open, uplifted heart.