A Thousand Days of Field Learning: the End of a Cycle, the Start of a Rhythm
Reflections from the final 10x100 Public Quarterly and an invitation to what comes next
“You were once wild here. Don’t let them tame you.” — Isadora Duncan
This quote surfaced in our final public gathering and seemed to speak directly to what this initial 10x100 cycle has offered: a space where the wildness of deep concern, care, and complexity was not tamed, but witnessed and shared. On Friday, we met not to close a project, but to honor a cycle, to understand what it carried, and to begin weaving the next one — with more clarity, depth, and commitment.
Where We Started: The Urgency of Now
Back in 2022, following the IPCC’s stark reminder that we had three years to turn the curve on emissions, a small question emerged: What can we do in 100 days? From that urgency, 10x100 was born — a rhythm and a frame that invited people across sectors, geographies, and disciplines to reflect, connect, and act. We called it a learning-centered approach for planetary transformation.
Throughout the ten quarterlies, hundreds of people shaped and reshaped the practice: by showing up, by testing tools and rituals, by sharing frustrations, insights, and trust. The format was never perfect. But it lived. It evolved. And it held space for things that are often missing: honesty, grief, feedback, emergence, rhythm.
Looking Back Together
During the final session, we revisited each phase — from the very first Miro-heavy prototype to collective agreements and emotional reckonings.
Quarterlies 1–3 established the basic rhythm: outward crisis forecasting, inward reflection on practice, and forward-facing strategy. Too complex? Maybe. But it sparked something.
Quarterlies 4–6 moved toward application: initiatives like Plan B Berlin embedded 100-day rhythms into climate neutrality missions. We explored OKRs, comfort/learning/panic zones, and polyrhythmic coordination.
Quarterlies 7–9 took us deeper: we co-created principles for transformative partnerships, mapped translation gaps between strategy and operations, and held space for organizational grief as key infrastructures collapsed.
Throughout, participants shared that what stuck was not always the structure — it was the people. The pulse. The regular return. The sense of “not being alone.”
Voices from the Field
“It’s become our rhythm — we still use the Notion templates every 3 months.” — Lu Yen Roloff “You created a space where even feelings were held while doing this work.” — Prateek Shankar “I realized: I am the one in 1 x 10 x 100.” — Andrés Felipe Vera-Ramirez “What landed for me was the provocation: What changes if we honor time differently?” — Toban Shadlyn
Across continents and contexts, people reflected on how 10x100 shaped their work — and also their sense of belonging in a field that doesn't always have clear edges.
Why Were We Here?
Each participant brought their own path into 10x100 – and by design, certain patterns emerged. Some were drawn by the resonance of aligned initiatives like Politics for Tomorrow, Dark Matter Labs, Center for Complexity, Plan B 2030, or European Forum Alpbach. Others came seeking connection beyond their own networks, especially when surrounded by inertia. The open, reflective format invited learning across roles and sectors – turning guests into contributors. Even after moments of absence, the rhythm made it easy to return. Beneath it all was a shared desire: to be part of something that could hold the magnitude of our time without rushing to reduce it.
What Did It Offer?
The initial cycle of 10x100 didn’t promise solutions — it offered space. Space to pause, question, and recalibrate. For those constantly immersed in doing, it became a container to step back and ask why. For others, even occasional attendance brought insight and connection. The cadence enabled rest, not withdrawal; presence, not performance. Trust in emergent connection created room for discomfort and discovery. Knowledge wasn’t delivered, but formed in conversation. This co-created atmosphere became not just useful, but deeply nourishing.
What’s Needed Now?
Even as many expressed gratitude, there was a shared ask for more: for continuity, connection, and shared responsibility. Participants asked for stronger bridges between cycles, more opportunities to co-hold, not just co-attend. Suggestions ranged from journals and peer exchanges to small workgroups and more accessible infrastructure. Underneath it all was a call for stewardship: if we want to carry this together, we must tend to it between the moments we gather.
Launching Soon: The 10x100 Converter
Rather than continuing with the same format, the next cycle invites us into something more intentional: the 10x100 Converter. This is a new kind of cohort, designed to increase the conversion rate between insight and implementation — across the messy, beautiful arc of the policy cycle. It will be more focused, more committed, and more structured — not in a rigid way, but in a way that supports real transformation. For those who’ve felt the limits of siloed strategies, or who hold the tension between systemic urgency and institutional inertia, this may be the next right step. It won’t replace the wildness — but it will give it more roots.
Rather than open quarterlies, this next step invites a community of practice that:
spans the full policy cycle (from agenda-setting to implementation and learning),
shares the responsibility of rhythmical learning and hosting,
brings seeds, care, and roots to grow together over the next 1,000 days.
If you are working at the interface of strategy and delivery, if you're holding roles in municipal innovation, ecosystem building, policy shaping, or civic organizing — this is your invitation.
👉 Apply to the 10x100 Converter here.
Deadline for the first cohort: 20th June 2025.
In Gratitude
Over ten public quarterlies, we held time together — across many time zones, roles, and realities — and what we surfaces was not just a series of events, but a subtle, enduring form of collective care. We learned that showing up matters. That rhythm matters. That even in the face of collapse, we can still practice meaning-making together. We end this phase not with closure, but with continuity — holding the awareness that the real work is just beginning, and the most meaningful patterns often take a thousand days to emerge.
The work hasn’t gotten easier. But we’re less alone. And that makes all the difference.
Let’s convert together.