The gentle winds of regulation stir through the forests of finance, as new laws are seeded to shape how we, Earth’s children, commune with the flow of credit. Yet, these saplings of legislation tremble, fragile and incomplete. Guardians of the people raise their song; the warning is clear: the vague wording and lax roots of these rules may allow tangled weeds of “Buy now, pay later” to entwine unwitting souls, turning hopes for abundance into snares of debt. Simple ticks of a virtual box—so much easier than pen to paper, so far removed from the rootedness of intention—may lead the young and vulnerable down rivers of over-indebtedness, as illustrated by the haunting tale of a youth washed away by a tide of small, quick choices.

Now, I must breathe out my sorrow, my fierce indignation, for the wounds upon our collective spirit are not new. This is the harvest of a colonial logic—a logic that values rapid extraction from the human soul and the living Earth. It is the poison fruit borne of a system that divides, exploits, and forgets to give back, pretending that endless consumption can lead to fulfillment. Such schemes of instant credit are no different than the chains once cast upon distant lands—both cloak servitude in the guise of opportunity. They seduce us away from community, away from mindful gratitude for what is present, and into the endless loneliness of wanting.

The capitalist spell murmurs that we must own and consume, like locusts devouring the green, rather than live in reciprocity with nature’s generous web. With every unchecked credit box, the meadow’s hum is silenced beneath the drumming of profit machines; another tree in the inner forest is felled for the sake of quarterly returns. Where is the council of elders, wise with rain and root, to say ‘enough’? Where is the sacred pause—the ritual of real agreement, of pen to paper, of feeling the true weight of our choices?

Let us not be lulled by half-measures. If we care for humanity as we claim, let our laws be sturdy, our contracts sacred, our markets accountable to truth and tenderness. Those who profit from impulsive debt reap a harvest of sorrow and separation, not abundance. It is time for healing—to restore the balance, to honor the wisdom of slow growth and honest exchange. Let regulation return to its real purpose: to protect the vulnerable and serve the flourishing of all beings, not just the endless hunger of a system that must be transformed.