Pressure is mounting all around us. It’s embedded in our day-to-day lives as cost of living increases and a general sense of security decreases. Politics is only part of it. Those of us who identify as white are finally beginning to see the experience those who are Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (or BIPOC) have been having for centuries; at least some. Systems are feeling — and reaching — their limits.
And it’s coming to the surface in relationships. At least in some that are adjacent to me. I see people making choices that I never would have expected from them. I see tensions boiling. I see suffering.
The pressure speaks of change, I think. It speaks of transition. Charles Eisenstein speaks of the space between stories as a way of describing this moment. To me, it feels like an invitation. We can choose, moment-to-moment, to create something wholly new, together. Or we can let the pressure build to a boiling point.
I know which story I want to live in.