A Threshold Pattern.

On Ketchup

I’ve been thinking about ketchup recently.

It resists. You tap the bottle. Nothing.
Tap again.
Still nothing.
Once more and suddenly, a burst.

Equilibrium. Punctuation. Equilibrium.

In evolutionary biology, punctuated equilibrium describes long stretches of stability interrupted by relatively rapid change.

Learning rarely feels incremental. Weeks of effort with no visible return.
Then suddenly, a click.

You circle ideas. Leave them. Nothing.
Then one morning the shape is clear.

Even identity can move this way. Long periods where the story holds.
Then it frays.

The pattern is familiar, but I find it easy to miss.
To become impatient.

From the outside it looks inert.
From the inside a threshold is approaching.

Tapping can feel pointless.

Until it isn’t.