Try This: Crossing the Threshold

Imagine yourself standing atop a tall building in the heart of a city.

It’s dark—not just nighttime but dim in a deeper way. The air is heavy, the streets dull and gray. You’re not sure if it’s smog or if the sun has simply given up trying. The city functions: people rush along the sidewalks, cars move through intersections, neon signs blink. But there’s little joy. Little warmth. This is the Great Unraveling.

A world still operating but hollowed out—systems still humming but draining life from people and planet alike.

Now, look more closely.

Not everyone is beaten down. On the sidewalk below, someone bends to help another who has fallen. A passerby smiles and places a warm hand on a stranger’s shoulder. These people seem different. Softer. Luminous. They glow faintly with a golden light, subtle but unmistakable in the gloom.

And once you see it—once your eyes adjust—you realize that the golden light is everywhere.

It shines from the farmer’s market tucked between two buildings a few blocks away. It pours from the windows of a small neighborhood preschool. It flickers on the corner where a local café has just opened, proudly serving community-grown food.

You feel yourself begin to rise, floating gently above the city. From this new vantage point, the glow expands.

You see rooftop gardens where vegetables grow in the shadows of skyscrapers. You see native plants reclaiming suburban lawns, offering food and shelter to pollinators and birds. You see bike co-ops, tool libraries, makerspaces, and forests replanted by local volunteers.

The light forms a network, a constellation. It stretches outward—across rivers, over mountains, connecting regenerative farms, open-source labs, artists’ collectives, and neighborhoods where compassion has become a design principle.

This is Eternia.

It exists within and alongside the world you know. It is real. It is growing. And it is calling.