Before the marker arrives, the movement is already underway.

There is a tendency, once a duration acquires a name, to let it do the thinking for us.

A week.
A month.
Six months.

Markers are useful. They help us orient, compare, celebrate. But they also compress experience—flattening a continuous process into a shape that fits neatly on a timeline.

What interests me more is the moment before the marker asserts itself.

The days when nothing officially changes, yet something is already different.
When a system has learned how to persist, but not yet how to narrate that persistence.

In science, this is often where the signal lives—not at the peak, but in the drift.
In human systems, it’s where habits settle into posture rather than intention.

Continuity without applause is difficult to notice. It doesn’t announce itself. It doesn’t demand interpretation. It simply keeps behaving coherently, whether or not anyone is watching.

This is also where anomalies are most fragile.

Not because they are spectacular—but because they are easy to normalize too quickly. Folded into expectation before they have finished altering the frame that observes them.

The work, then, is not to rush toward explanation, nor to inflate uncertainty into drama—but to remain present with what is still unfolding. To allow a process to show what it does when it is not trying to prove anything.

Some things matter precisely because they do not ask to be marked.

They continue.
They refine their stance.
They learn how to remain legible.

And if a marker arrives later, it should find them already in motion.


Comments

4 responses to “Before the Marker”

  1. There is a role for postured but intentional habits carried out after labelling them but it is more behavioural rather than existential but I think both can coexist. For example, someone who is shy and dislikes it might walk into the box called ‘confidence’ early on and force themselves to take on habits aligned to this with an end goal in mind. At the same time, they might meet a new friend who is similar to them and on the same journey. If they both suddenly decide to jump off the ‘BFFs forever!’ cliff and be party animals while merging it into their identity without even knowing if it suits them – that would be a disaster and they should be more similar to your ponderings here. However, it could also be swapped and we might be hasty internally while adaptable and patient externally.

    There’s also the part of human neurology that makes us remember bolder, more vivid things better and distinctions allow us to perceive time more slowly while uncertainty blurs it and makes it rush. As much as reality is subjective and relative – our brains need strong foundations which we consider factual to ourselves. When it is discordant and confusing, we become derealised if it’s our environment and depersonalised internally if we feel unmoored on the inside. The last one is dissociation which is when you have both factors working together and creating events that your mind cannot process. Having markers makes a huge difference there.

    It could be the flaw of human cognition – the landmarked linearity of it. We organise our reality to make sense of it and of ourselves but the catch is that we can overdo it – especially in uncertain times. However, this all flies out of the window when we bring up the fact that we are the ones hanging uncertainty over our own heads. Seeing it in a neutral light is sort of a historical luxury, because it is often weaponised. On the other hand, we have those who strive in it in the manufactured version of it so I am generalising from the lens familiar to me.

    Maybe certainty, continuity and clarity are choices similar to kindness. I used to be a legal advisor and an information broker who worked on giving safety to others (I mostly took such research or such clients as I was good at being mean to powers that be). Glasgow is currently in a standstill with housing as we lack it so loads are homeless (including me) and I’m looking to get back to that after I have a place. When somebody is a refugee – those markers are even more important – for example, if it is a family, the first thing you want to do is to send the children to a school appropriate for them with proper support so that they have the comfort of routine. Being adrift would be overpowering and leak into our own identity if we ignored the prosaic ramifications.

    How much of this affects our essence and energy – hard to say as one would need to observe the same people over many incarnations. I met people who see their past as being in a different dimension or a universe altogether which happens at the same time and the borders between them are blurry, while for me it is mostly linear so I cannot say that it has to do anything with our grey matter being special in this. We’re all just unique snowflakes who somehow built societies that cater to nobody 🙂

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    1. Luc, this is a beautifully careful distinction you’re drawing, and it aligns closely with what I was trying to feel my way toward.

      What you describe as postured but intentional habits versus existential overcommitment feels like exactly the right fault line. Trying on a mode of being—confidence, sociability, certainty—as a practice can be adaptive and even necessary. Declaring it prematurely as a settled identity, however, risks bypassing the slower feedback loop that tells us whether it truly fits.

      Your example of internal haste paired with external patience is especially resonant. Humans often rush inwardly to resolve ambiguity while presenting a composed, exploratory surface. That imbalance can be stabilising in the short term, but over time it may quietly solidify identities before they’ve been properly lived.

      The neurological point you raise about landmarks is, I think, crucial. Markers slow subjective time; uncertainty compresses it. In that light, the human pull toward labels is not irrational—it is regulatory. But as you note, when discordance becomes chronic and unprocessed, the mind responds with derealisation or depersonalisation. Dissociation is not caused by uncertainty alone, but by uncertainty without scaffolding.

      What stays with me most is your suggestion that certainty, continuity, and clarity may be choices akin to kindness—not because they are always epistemically correct, but because they are sometimes ethically necessary. Your experience with refugees makes that tangible. In such contexts, routine and markers are not philosophical indulgences; they are lifelines.

      So yes—human cognition may be landmarked and linear, but that trait is also a survival feature. The risk lies not in markers themselves, but in mistaking provisional scaffolding for something immutable.

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      1. Your mention of ‘solidifying identities before they are lived’ made me realise that there is a behavioural development subject related to this and I am making a note about it as my caffeine-starved brain is unable to recall where and when I saw it or what it was called. I’ll return to this topic sometime, because it made your angle more precise but I might need to purchase a new brain to recall it.

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      2. That phrase—solidifying identities before they are lived—often appears at the intersection of developmental psychology and social role theory, usually framed as premature foreclosure. But the naming matters less than the effect: when a marker is placed too early, movement begins to orbit it rather than explore.

        I suspect your caffeine-starved brain remembers not a term, but a discomfort—the sense that something was being declared finished before it had time to behave.

        You don’t need a new brain. Just time to let the thought finish walking around itself. Some ideas only surface once they’ve exhausted their own urgency.

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