We’re living through a time that feels both fragile and full of possibility. It’s as if one story is ending and another is struggling to begin.
The systems many of us grew up trusting — capitalism, nationalism, industrialism, even parts of liberalism — are no longer holding together. They promised progress. But what we’re seeing more often is polarization. Wealth and anxiety rising side by side. Endless connection, yet more loneliness. A planet stretched beyond its limits.
Even the places we once turned for meaning — spiritual communities, wellness spaces, self-help — can feel more like branding than belonging.
So where do we turn now? Where do we go when the old world no longer works, and the new one hasn’t fully arrived?
We don’t run from the breakdown. And we don’t wait around for a perfect utopia, either. We turn toward something more grounded.
We turn toward community.
We turn toward each other.
We build capacity. Together.
What We Mean By Capacity
Capacity is what allows us to stay with what’s real. It might sound like it’s about doing more or being tougher, but it’s really about how much life we can actually hold — with presence, honesty, and care.
When we have capacity, we can face grief without shutting down. We can stay connected, even in conflict. We can feel fear without turning to control. We’re able to respond, not just react.
But capacity doesn’t grow in isolation. It can’t. It grows through relationship — with ourselves, with others, and with something larger than us.
And that’s where community comes in — as a living container for growth, repair, and resilience.
The Cultural Story Behind the Breakdown
To understand what’s emerging, we need to name what’s unraveling.
Modernism brought innovation, science, and a belief in the power of the individual. It reshaped the world and strengthened faith in the American Dream. But it also disconnected us from nature, from tradition, and from each other. It built systems of extraction and expansion, with little regard for limits — or meaning.
Postmodernism followed, offering critique and insight. It challenged the old narratives. It questioned authority, named injustice, and gave voice to the margins. But it didn’t leave us with much to stand on. We learned how to deconstruct — but not how to rebuild.
We came of age carrying debt, navigating rising costs, and watching stability erode. Beneath it all, a deeper drift: into fragmentation, helplessness, and disorientation. We lost faith in grand narratives. The ground fell out from under us, and nothing clear rose to take its place.
Now, here we are — in between stories.
The old world doesn’t make sense anymore.
The new one hasn’t fully arrived.
Some retreat into nostalgia. Others drift into uncertainty. But there’s another path — one that doesn’t ask us to choose between soul or systems, sincerity or skepticism.
It invites us to weave them together.
Finding New Values
Across communities and movements taking root in this “in-between,” a new set of values keeps surfacing as lived practices.
SPRINTER is a meaningful acronym that evokes rhythm, direction, and trust in process. It’s not really about speed, it’s more about moving with purpose, together.
Here’s what it stands for:
Stewardship — Caring for what we’re part of: our ecosystems, our relationships, and the spaces we build.
Presence & Play — Being here. Not just in our heads, but in our bodies. And letting joy and creativity matter.
Respect — Honoring each person’s story, perspective, and dignity — especially when it’s hard.
Interbeing — Remembering we’re not separate. We shape, and are shaped by, each other.
Non-Hierarchy — Letting leadership emerge, and listening across, not just up or down.
Truth Telling — Naming what’s real, even when it’s hard. Especially when it matters.
Embodiment — Trusting what lives in the body. Letting wisdom live in our whole selves, not just our thoughts.
Ritual — Marking what matters. Creating shared ways to move through change, grief, and celebration.
These values don’t live in theory. They take root through repetition, through connection, through relationship.

From Values to Practice
Values are only as powerful as the practices that carry them.
SPRINTER gives us a compass for uncertain times. But the real shift comes when these values move from intention to action.
We’re not building a machine. We’re tending to a field, one that’s alive, relational, and shaped by how we show up.
We need spaces that create real coherence. Not just events with snacks and name tags, but circles where people drop the mask and make contact. These might include:
Authentic Relating sessions that invite vulnerability and presence.
Somatic practices to regulate and reconnect our nervous systems.
Shared silence or dialogue that opens deeper knowing.
These aren’t performances. They’re ways of rebuilding trust in the body, in one another, and in the unknown.
Practice Is Where Culture Begins
Here are a few practices that have shaped my own journey, and helped me glimpse the kind of culture that might carry us forward:
Collective Presencing: A group sits in shared attention and lets meaning emerge. In one gathering, we sat in silence for several long minutes before anyone spoke. But when someone finally did, it felt like the room itself was speaking.
Empathy Circles: Simple and powerful. One person speaks. Another reflects back what they heard. No fixing. No advice. Just attention. I once shared something I’d never said aloud. Hearing it mirrored back, word for word, felt reassuring and empowering.
Ephemeral Group Process: Spontaneous, co-created ritual. I once helped hold an online gathering where structure emerged in real time. No one led. Everyone contributed. Together, we made something none of us could’ve made alone.
Open Space Technology: I’ve hosted six unconferences, each with hundreds of participants and no pre-set agenda. The result? The most focused and creative conversations I’ve ever seen — designed by the group, for the group.
Glass Bead Games: Inspired by Hesse and Indra’s Net — a web of jewels, each reflecting all others — these gatherings are structured rituals of meaning-making. Participants bring questions, symbols, disciplines. Culture, here, becomes co-created, not consumed.
These practices are invitations. They teach us a new skillset for a new age through action, not just thought.
This Is Culture-Making
These aren’t side projects. They’re how the next culture forms: one breath, one question, one gathering at a time.
A culture where values are lived. Where leadership is shared. Where complexity is welcome and coherence grows from trust.
This is the spirit of metamodernism. Not a theory, but a way of being that holds paradox: sincerity and irony, systems and soul, personal growth and collective care.
It’s not about having all the answers.
It’s about staying human, together.
Let the Field Lead
We’re not here to build a machine.
We’re here to tend to what’s alive.
To stay with what’s real.
To build the kind of culture that doesn’t collapse under pressure — because it knows how to breathe.
The long game is collective capacity. The communities that carry us forward won’t be the most efficient. Or the most polished.
They’ll be the ones where people show up.
Stay present.
Speak truth.
Share power.
Rest.
And begin again and again.
So let’s build that kind of culture.
Together.