
It’s Sunday morning, after a hell of a week. A week where I’ve been juggling more than one family medical crisis, not minor ones, and doing it the way I’ve learned to survive: research, investigate, organize, deploy. Keep the exterior calm, keep the machinery running, don’t let the cracks show. People tell me, “If I didn’t know you were telling the truth, I wouldn’t believe it.” And I understand why. But inside, I’m barely holding the seams together.
And I think that’s exactly where the world is right now. We are moving through events that should be shaking us to our core, but instead we’re treating them like background noise. We’ve normalized chaos.
Look at this week alone. A war criminal who cannot set foot in most of the world without risking arrest is being welcomed into the United States for a meeting with Donald Trump in Alaska on Friday. Let’s not kid ourselves, Vladimir Putin is not flying across the globe to “negotiate peace.” He’s told us outright, in conversations like the one with Steve Witkoff, that his goal is total control of Ukraine. Full stop. And Trump? Trump has no cards here. Putin thinks he’s a fool, and he’ll play him accordingly.
Then there’s Israel, officially deciding to take over Gaza, as if annexation will magically erase decades of conflict and humanitarian crisis. The silence from the President of the United States on this is deafening.
And here in Canada, we need to understand something uncomfortable: we are a vulnerable country. To the United States, we are what Ukraine is to Russia. Donald Trump has already told us, in his own words, that he’s doing everything he promised he would do. If one of those promises was about controlling Canada’s future, why wouldn’t we take him at his word? If you want to call that fear-mongering, fine. But reality doesn’t care about our comfort zone.
Not in a generation have we seen the kind of instability we’re facing now. And unfortunately, we are removed from the people Tom Brokaw called “The Greatest Generation”, our parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents who defended democracy through both the First and Second World Wars. They’d lived through depression, dictatorship, and the real possibility of losing their freedoms. They knew what was at stake, and they acted like it. I’m not sure we’re ready for what’s coming, and that scares me more than the crises themselves.
Because make no mistake, we are in it. And most people are walking through it half-asleep. I understand the need for balance, to protect our own lives, our own communities, the things we can control. But numbness is not resilience. We are in a live situation with stakes that can’t be overstated, and too many people are treating it like tomorrow’s problem. So for Canada in this story? I remain committed to giving Mark Carney the room to navigate this without making a fatal move. I understand the people asking, “But what is he actually doing?” My answer: if you’re skeptical about Carney’s capability, tell me, IN DETAIL what you think Pierre Poilievre would be doing differently right now. And then ask yourself if that answer makes you feel safer.
Because this is not a time for hollow slogans. This is a time for plans. For strategy. For leaders who don’t flinch under pressure. Some are doing as I described above. Researching, investigating, organizing, and then they deploy. I’ve learned in my personal life that functioning under pressure doesn’t mean you’re unaffected, it means you keep moving because stopping isn’t an option.
Canada is remaining calm and our leadership is speaking out. But much of the world is not doing the same thing right now. I prefer someone steering the boat calmly toward a destination to someone drifting blind until they’re smashed apart on the rocks. Because by the time some realize it, there won’t be enough pieces left to put back together. I still believe PM Carney is watching the weather and navigating his route carefully. These are defining moments for our world.



