I’ve Been Preparing for Our World to Collapse for 20 Years — This Is What I Learnt.
When I sold my penthouse and left corporate. My family thought I was crazy .
For those of you who have been here a while — thank you. This is the post I have been meaning to write for a while. Consider it the foundation everything else is built on — the origin story and a moment of recommitment to why we are all here. For those newly arrived , welcome. This is where it all began.
This Story Begins …
Twenty years ago, I was at an Environment Conference when a local councillor revealed something that changed my life. He described an emergency water shortage in our city that the government was quietly suppressing — banning from public knowledge to avoid panic.
That moment of revelation and cover up was my wake-up call. It sent me straight to do the research on Climate Change, and what I found changed everything. Back then the warnings were stark: the earth was cooling, oil was running out, famine was coming. It was mostly new to me, and it landed in the middle of some already significant life changes.
I was serving as a corporate director, part of the deal for selling my Online Learning Business. I had just become a grandmother, much to my delight. My husband and I were preparing for a comfortable retirement — travel, family, relaxation.
Within a year, none of that life existed anymore.
Massive Life Changes and Challenges
We sold our penthouse apartment and bought a remote old farmhouse with 30 acres in Devon. I became the grower — all things food. My husband became a woodsman, chief stoker of the boiler and fires. This would be our sanctuary: as self-sufficient as possible, with our own water, food and energy.
Over time I invited my daughter, her husband and my grandson to join us in a house we built for them on the land.
My family thought I was crazy. They wanted nothing to do with my “doomer fantasies” about collapse and still don’t.
Being a TV Star and Lessons in Media Manipulation
As part of this transformation, we volunteered to appear on the popular Channel 4 programme Location, Location, Location. We had a mission — we wanted people to know that Climate collapse was coming, and to act. The programme also helped us find our farmhouse, though not quite in the way it was portrayed.
It was a fun few weeks, dashing around Devon with a film crew and celebrities. Then I watched the actual programme.
What I saw was a masterclass in narrative manipulation. My husband came across as domineering. I came across as a complete wimp. My family and friends thought it hilarious. I found it instructive. It was my first direct, personal lesson in how media shapes the story — and how little control you have once you step inside that frame.
The Years in the Wilderness and Doubt
For a long time, the world kept going. Life continued and I kept being called a doomer, a crank. I felt like Chicken Little wandering the streets with a placard reading The End Is Nigh.
The doubts were real. There were moments I wondered whether I had upended my life, my family ties and my retirement for nothing.
But I kept going — not out of stubbornness, but out of a deeper conviction that even if the timing was uncertain, the direction was not.
Also I loved the life I created, being outside , being in a vibrant community and the wild beauty of Dartmoor.
Another major turning point was reading Prof Jem Bendall’s Deep Adaptation Paper in 2018. This showed me I was not alone . (The link is below )
What Nobody Tells You About Preparing for Collapse
Here is what nobody tells you about living as though your world might end: it makes ordinary life extraordinarily vivid and beautiful.
I hear a lot about grief from people in the collapse-aware community. That has not been my experience. What I feel is a deep love for this life — gratitude for its privileges, and for being alive in this extraordinary moment in history.
The uncertainty gives me joy, a sense of wonder, and a profound appreciation for ordinary moments.
Last week I had lunch with my daughter and granddaughter in a city restaurant. The waitress stopped at our table and remarked on how lovely it was to see three generations laughing and having such a good time together. I held that moment knowing it would never happen again — not out of fear, but out of love. Because I know nothing is permanent, it was sweet beyond measure.
This isn’t about the end of the world. This is about being fully alive in it.
The Stoics called this memento mori — the practice of holding fragility not as a source of dread, but as a reason to be completely present. Twenty years of collapse awareness has been, unexpectedly, one of the greatest teachers of my life.
My Personal Transformation
Twenty years ago I asked someone already on this path for advice. They gave me these words: make friends and learn skills.
It turned out to be the best advice I ever received.
Over these two decades I have started Transition Town initiatives, lead campaigns including saving our local library, grown food, saved seeds, made herbal medicines, managed orchards, taught fermentation, and trained as a yoga teacher in India. I have organised suppers, dances, theatre events and community celebrations.
None of it was wasted. All of it was preparation — though rarely in the ways I expected.
What I Got Wrong — and What I Didn’t
My predictions were wrong in their specifics. I thought we would not recover from the financial crash of 2008. I thought oil would run out and more people would simplify their lives. I expected food shortages, but I did not foresee that rising inflation would make healthy food inaccessible to millions while supermarket shelves stayed full.
I did not see how governments, billionaires and institutions would wage open war for control over populations. I did not anticipate the deliberate erosion of democracy, the exposure of imperial cruelty that continues regardless. I did not foresee a global lockdown imposed with so little scrutiny or resistance.
I had no framework for understanding how technology would become both our tool and our cage — or how AI would accelerate everything beyond any previous reckoning.
I thought collapse would be sudden. Cinematic. Undeniable.
Instead it has been slow. Incremental. Easy to ignore, if you want to.
But the underlying reality I sensed in that conference room 20 years ago has not gone away. It is accelerating. What is unravelling now is not just ecological — it is institutional, undemocratic and immoral. The signs of systemic collapse are no longer fringe theory. They are daily headlines.
And yet the responses most people reach for — denial, doomscrolling, paralysis, performative outrage — serve nobody.
What I Believe Now
I am no longer a remote prepper stockpiling for individual survival. My understanding of resilience has matured considerably. The land and Farm house have been sold and I now live in the centre of a small rural town. The living off the land and self sufficiency were very isolating and increasingly challenging as we aged. There was no next generation to share the work and benefit from what we created. My family still loves their City life and I respect the choices they have made.
I do know resilience is communal, not solitary. This is why I choose to live in a place of strong community where I am known. That does not mean it’s safe or will manage collapse well, but it will be safer than a city. The CoVid years showed me how conflict , division and distrust can so easily arise in daily life.
This is why preparing for ‘Collapse ‘ is psychological as much as practical. And at its core, it is a spiritual question: what kind of human being do I choose to become as the structures I relied on begin to fail ?
I believe we are born for this time to re-alise our agency, our sovereignty and the true nature of our power — as co-creators, not victims. To figure this out together. To abandon the oppressive systems of the past, reject the control systems being built around us, and find other ways through.
This mission or Dharma gives my life purpose and daily motivation to keep working for the best future we can create. Thank you for sharing this exploration with me.
We know there are no easy answers. No human has ever faced this combination of crises at this speed. But showing up — refusing to give up — is the most important thing any of us can do right now.
Where We Go From Here ?
Courageous Conversations is where I share what 20 years on this path has taught me. Not false hope. Not performative doom. Honest thinking, practical strategies, and the perspective of someone who has stopped being frightened of these questions.
For those who have been with me — you already know this. What’s coming next is more of what brought you here, and I’m grateful you stayed. We are in the first stages of collapse and bracing ourselves for what comes next.
For those just arriving — upcoming conversations will explore digital detoxing, community resilience, psychological survival, and the spiritual dimensions of living through collapse consciously.
If you are done with denial but not ready to give up — you are in the right place.
Our next conversation will continue our exploration of this wild, dangerous and beautiful time 💓
Let us know your ‘Collapse’ wake up call in the comments.
With Love and Solidarity ,
Prof. Jem Bendell Deep Adaptation Paper
In December my Friend Paulette Bodeman and I recorded a Zoom about living your Dharma. Paulette released it yesterday and the synchronicity with this post is amazing. Please listen if you have time and support the fabulous work Paulette does on her publication , she is a wise and gorgeous human being . 💓
We discussed how each of us is being asked to step up our game. What that game is and what our particular role is has everything to do with our dharma.
Thanks for sharing your journey, Susan.
I also expect the system to collapse, and have done similar things. Growing food is becoming more important, as is stocking up on dry goods and bulk ordering organic food with friends.
Someone I knew went through the transition from apartheid in South Africa to what it is now, and I asked what advice he'd give. He said, "Keep your relationships clean" and that made a lot of sense to me.
Trust in times like these is the new gold.
Take care, Susan, and thanks again for sharing.
Grief and deep love for this life are not mutually exclusive, in fact they can't exist without one another. You might appreciate reading a book called The Smell of Rain on Dust by Martin Prechtel. It's amazing.