Begin Again
Start anywhere.
Radical acts aren’t always big or bold. They live in the small choices we make each day — in how we meet, how we listen, how we reimagine what’s possible. Sometimes they’re as simple as asking a different question, pausing to listen a beat longer, or starting in an unexpected place.
They happen when we dare to be playful in serious spaces, when we make room for uncertainty, when we let our conversations meander into unexpected territory.
Endings invite beginnings. That’s the loop. The absurd beginning we started with circles back here, reminding us that the smallest shift can open the largest space.
Begin again
Begin again with silence. Stop talking, let the room breathe, and see who fills the space.
Begin again with reversal. Take something you always do at the end, and do it first.
Begin again with invitation. Ask, what’s the smallest radical act you could try right now?
Begin again by starting anywhere. The only wrong move is not moving at all.
What about...
Mundane Introductions?
There is something compelling about the mundane. In a world of LinkedIn posts where everyone and everything is extraordinary, sharing the mundane from your life releases the pressure valve.
As well as tuning our ears into listening, mundane introductions take the pressure off the need to be interesting. And competitive. There’s something comforting and satisfying about sharing our everyday moments, the antithesis maybe of all those extraordinary Instagram moments.
We have experimented with introductions as if by an excitable TV presenter. When journalists start looking for an angle for a story, they start with the mundane and wait for something interesting to reveal itself. Sometimes it’s worth considering that the mundane to you might be exceptional to others.
A Jolt?
Familiarity and same-ness can be comforting, and they have their place. Routines provide a way for us to move through our daily activities with ease. A jolt makes us sit up and take notice. Here’s a few examples:
Begin with making. We sometimes ask people to make a customised journal that they will use throughout a workshop. We provide blank journals, stickers, and pens then let people do what they want.
Begin with destroying. We sometimes start with a list that appears reasonable but might be full of myths. Then we ask people to rip it up.
Begin with magic.
At the start of a formal academic lecture a professor, known for their strict adherence to protocol, begins with an elaborate and completely unexpected magic trick. The students, expecting a serious introduction to a complex subject, are instead presented with disappearing acts and card tricks.
Magic tricks often rely on misdirection, which can be used to illustrate how easily our attention can be diverted. They also illustrate the importance of thinking creatively and approaching problems from unconventional angles.
……….
This post ends our A–ZZ series. Or maybe it doesn’t. Radical acts rarely end; they ripple.
Boundaries remind us of risks. Connections remind us of each other. The absurd beginning circles back here: small shifts, again and again.
Like the creatures, we move. Begin again.






Small is radical. Mundane is magic. I'm setting down decades of tap-dancing and hype - ah! The imperceptibly exhausting grind of trying to live at one end of the Gauss normal curve so as to avoid being at the opposite end - when of course everything happens in the middle.
Thank you for all of these ideas, Radical Actors, and thanks John Morley for pointing me to it.