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A glowing orb in the form of a lighted white ball sits in the dark of grass and night… lighting it up. Photo by Marc Clinton Labiano via Unsplash.

“Light up the darkness.” — Bob Marley

A QUICK NOTE. I haven’t been here much, lately. I apologize for that. I took what I thought would be a quick, short job to help fund the work here which turned into something not quick and also deeply helpful in surprising ways. Meanwhile, along with board members and volunteers… we’ve been reworking this nonprofit to help us all better help with the fast-changing era we’re in. Thank you to those of you still tracking with us. Thank you to our monthly supporters here and on Patreon, and to our paying subscribers who have done some fantastic and touching recent annual renewals. All of you help support this work here, and motivate us to keep at it even through tough stuff.

Tonight I’ve been sitting outside an apartment building in a small city in rural America, on a gorgeous summer night. The photo here of a small orb glowing in grass is meant to somehow communicate the vibe of the evening.

It’s hard to convey what a summer night feels like if you’re not in the place. Here there’s been a light wind and almost no bugs, with a perfect temperature. Perfect for this particular human, anyway. Not perfect for, say, a polar bear, which I am not.

I’m on a tiny sidewalk-patio between a few pots of purple summer flowers on one side, and smaller pots with a bit of cilantro and green onion on the other. I’ve got my own glowing colored-light cylinder nearby just to add ambiance to the white light pervading the night. There are building entry lights. There are along-the-garage-wall lights. Street lights. Lights highlighting a watertower. Nearby parking lot lights for the now-empty restaurants and other businesses. White light from this tiny city is even reflected in poofy clouds sliding by above, in the not-quite-dark sky.

Some neighbors were hosting a party all evening. People have been occasionally cheering a game, there were young kids running around playing, and a bunch of adults were bantering, laughing, and carrying on until late. I love hearing a big group of kids playing outside; it’s one of the reasons I decided to go outside to write. Also I love writing that people were “carrying on,” because that’s just a bit of fun.

Here in the Midwestern US we’re on the eve of a heat wave predicted to last at least a week, right straight through the big 250-year country anniversary next Saturday.

With all that, I figured this might be my last chance to be outside when it’s pleasant for a while.… so I should take advantage of it.

Soon it will be hotter than blazes. Of course I just mean this week but there’s also climate change happening fast.

Also soon people will be igniting, blowing off, and exploding huge big mass quantities of fireworks… while sensitive people and animals all over the state (country?!) will be finding things to hide under and within and behind.

All of this is a lot of scene-setting… because it’s an eve. An eve for me, at least, with some gravitas. Because sometimes we do that with “eves.”

It’s the eve of a massive heat wave.

It’s the eve of a 250-year quartermillenial celebration for a troubled democracy.

It’s the eve of a likey unprecedented and very long El Niño.

It’s possibly the eve of huge changes in our lives due to massive supply chain and energy disruptions, but that one’s harder to predict with as much certainty.

Humans are always needing to mark time, somehow. To mark moments. Whether they are “eves” or “days of ___” or anniversaries or quarter-years or year-changes or whatever.

The time-marking is one reason why many Americans are talking big about the upcoming 250-year “quartermillenial” anniversary of July 4, 1776. Also known more simply of course as the “semiquincentennial,” or “sestercentennial.” Naturally, because those all flow so well.

“Eves” seem sort of unique in our time-marking because they are a sort of prequel, for a day or for a moment we know is coming. Christmas Eve. All-Hallow’s Eve. Election Eve. New Year’s Eve.

“Eves” carry a sort of expectancy. A thing is coming. Something is going to happen, and we’re excited about it or fired up enough about the thing to also name the evening before for that thing.

And this is why tonight feels like an “eve” of note, for me, anyway. Because it’s the eve of a big heatwave. But also the eve of a big week of quartermillenial partying or celebrating for this country, whatever that means. Or grieving. However it works out for your and yours. Lots of folks are feeling the grief this year for the country-birthday so much more than they are getting inspired for happy commemorations. Others have already moved into the eulogizing stage. Can’t say that I’m there yet, myself, but I’m also not feeling called to revel in joy for where the country is.

There’s something else about “eves”. About our designation of them. They are not all inherently positive and I get that. Many are.

But they bring certainty — about tomorrow. About the next day or period following the “eve.” Certainty about coming moments. Certainty that the moment will happen, and that we’ll be around somewhere in all of that to experience it. Certainty, mixed with questions about what is to be. “Election eve.” “New Year’s Eve.” Definitely don’t know what those things are going to bring.

This is how I feel tonight.

Tonight there’s peace and quiet and a very light wind and the sound of crickets. Tonight I heard people being together; kids playing. Tonight I heard one firework. Tonight I hear the occasional air conditioner, and the occasional sound of traffic. Not even a dog. Not a coyote. Just a stillness that almost seemed to be holding space for more…. of something. Nature always does that, but sometimes it seems more clear.

What will the week bring?

Heat itself is oppressive. We’re in a heat warning right away to start, too. We’re not warming it up with an advisory or any of that mishegoss. We’re starting the week off with a heat warning. And going from there.

Heat is oppressive. It’s dangerous. A lot of us will make it through this week because many of us have access to air conditioners, functional infrastructure, operational electricity, steady power, available energy sources, functional wiring, paid bills, buildings where we can find shelter, and access to running water. For most of us in the Midwest this week, the heat wave should not be a tragedy. Life will mostly go on.

Heat combined with tension can, well, bring violence. So there’s that. We do have some tension up in this country. For… reasons.

One of the changes climate change is likely to bring to society is that heat combined with humans tends to bring increased violence. It’s slightly more complicated than that but that’s a key point that researchers have found in relation to climate change risks. It may well be relevant out in the US of A this next week.

Also of course, a good chunk of the citizenry are not only well-armed as a rule, but now are extra loaded-up with fireworks galore. Pop-up fireworks places all over this country have been selling out in probably bigger numbers than ever this year, due to the big quartermillenial action coming our way. Extra explosive capacity in all the places. Plus many jurisdictions only allow the actual exploding of fireworks on a very few days, so much of the accumulated explosivity is likely to get blown off super fast in a very short period of time. What could go wrong?

For anyone tracking the bigger big picture, we’re in a bit of a pickle in at least a couple of other ways. In a pickle vat? Up a couple of creeks? In a bit of trouble here and there, one might say. From a risk perspective.

We started a big, big war in the Middle East that is in various states of unsettled-ness from day-to-day and moment-to-moment, for one thing. We’re in a time of fast-changing climate change. We have an ever-increasing human population living increasingly in high-hazard zones even as disasters become increasingly intense and frequent. We’re disabling systems and capabilities intended to help us track and respond to said disasters. Like for example the kinds of disasters the strongest El Niño perhaps ever is likely to contribute to. Because possibly the strongest El Niño perhaps ever is ramping up, or doing whatever El Niños do to become more powerful. We’ve got a bunch of diseases becoming increasingly risky and spread-y as we’re actively disabling systems and capabilities to handle and mitigate those. Worldwide supply chains are being actively disrupted for a host of reasons including most notably major changes in access to the Straight of Hormuz. And we may be on the downhill side of easy, cheap, low-cost energy in the form of oil which makes up a whole lot of the things in our society in addition to powering a lot of that — society.

So the eve of changes… to all of that? It seems eve-worthy. Only I don’t know what to call it. Eve of disruption? Some are saying it’s the eve of “collapse,” but that’s a complicated conversation for a different day.

I don’t think any one of those things listed above is going to put us suddenly into some new reality.

I don’t think we’re on the eve of “collapse,” either. Because I think we have a really huge, complex society with a whole heck of a lot of inertia that may well motivate it to hold itself together in surprising ways… especially in the short term. More to come here on that.

Maybe where we’re at is the eve of a big pivot.

Well, shucks… if that isn’t some positive thinking.

But should we be talking about that… even as a possibility?

Pivoting?

Seems like we could do a whole heck of a lot of pivoting and find ourselves in way different places in the future than where we’re headed now. Like for example, say you’re leaving the west coast of the US westward on a ship like out of Vancouver, Washington. Make a little tiny bit of a pivot not far off the coast and you can end up in New Zealand instead of Japan.

A little tiny pivot can have huge, huge effects later on.

What if we started thinking and talking more about pivoting?

Honestly I’m not sure we’re ready yet. Lots of folks are still operating in the paradigm that’s actively falling away and being dismantled.

When do we invent the new thing? Find the new direction?

Maybe we do it when it becomes more clear that the old paradigm is not working and isn’t fixable.

Maybe we get a better handle on that this week. With the big quartermillenial partying and all, or not.

Maybe that’s part of why all of this feels like an eve to me. Because maybe it’s also an era that’s fixing to close itself out whilst we go about pivoting society in different directions.

Anyhoo. Food for thought.

This work here is about that, though. Pivoting. Navigating instability, change, disruption, chaos, and rising instability. Traveling through troubled times. And all that.

But in the midst of it all… the pivoting is important and it matters.

It’s worth talking more about, because we don’t have to follow all these things everyone is telling us. We can chart new directions for humans, humanity, society, and civilization, too.

Sometimes that’s more likely in the midst of big disruption. But it might well help to think about it, and to get going on some big vision and big strategery.

Again, food for thought.

Be safe and be well. AND I MEAN IT THIS WEEK. I always do but seriously. Try to keep all your fingers this week and help everyone else keep theirs, too. Not going to be a good week in emergency departments nationwide because people will try to explode their various body parts with fireworks, whether intentionally or not.

This week never is good annually in emergency departments, but my guess is this particular one will be even more challenging… with the extra fireworks, the extra heat, the extra-big quadrillenial partying and/or pushback, and the extra-big tension up here in this nearly 250-year-old distressed democracy.

Do things to mitigate risks, for you and yours and for the people around you. Do things to de-escalate, to diffuse, and to de-fuse. Do things to look after humans and all the creatures. We need all that. And just look after yourself, too. We need you, too. That’s enough.

Onward, forward, and through. And with the big ideas, big vision, and big love for the people in our lives. It’s more powerful than we think.

Light it up.

-Vanessa Burnett

Pivot Eve?

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