Chapter 4: Regulation
Nothing collapsed.
But nothing moved either.
The pause wasn’t thoughtful.
It was awkward.
Someone cleared their throat.
A chair scraped—then stopped.
A phone vibrated, then died.
Marcus checked his watch again.
This time, he didn’t hide it.
“Well,” he said, standing a little straighter, “we can’t just sit here.”
No one argued.
But no one followed either.
That was the problem.
A few people shifted. Someone near the wall stood, stretched, then sat back down—uncertain. Another leaned over to whisper. A brief laugh escaped, quickly stifled.
Then another chair scraped.
This time louder.
Two people stood and moved toward the coffee table, cups in hand, talking quietly but urgently, like they’d been waiting for permission that never came.
The room exhaled.
Not all at once.
Not consciously.
But enough.
Conversations started overlapping—first tentative, then less so. Low voices layered over each other, fragments of thought crossing the space.
“I see what you were saying earlier, but—”
“That’s not how it landed for me.”
“I just don’t think structure is the issue.”
Someone laughed—properly this time.
Someone else joined in.
Lena was already on her feet, drifting toward a small knot of people by the window.
“So,” she said lightly, hands open, “what actually brought you here?”
Two heads turned. Then three. The energy shifted around her, warmer now, quicker. Ideas started flying—half-formed, enthusiastic, overlapping and unfinished.
Across the room, Helen hadn’t moved far, but she was listening intently, eyes scanning faces, patterns already beginning to form in her mind. She edged closer to a group that was quieter, more deliberate.
“Can I ask something?” she said, not waiting for permission. “When you said that, what did you mean exactly?”
The group slowed. Focused. One person nodded, relieved to be understood. Another frowned, thinking harder.
Near the centre of the room, Marcus had gathered three people without quite meaning to. They stood close, voices firmer, more grounded.
“Look,” he said, not unkindly, “we can talk all day, but what would actually work here?”
One of them pushed back immediately. Another agreed. The disagreement was sharp but energised—like friction that produces heat, not sparks.
Phones came out. Then went away.
Someone checked messages, muttered an apology, and slipped toward the door. Someone else followed, just to make a call, they said. They didn’t look annoyed. Just done, for now.
Sam hadn’t moved.
He stood where he was, watching the room come alive, not directing, not intervening. He didn’t try to gather people back. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t signal for attention.
He simply stayed open.
People passed him as they moved, some brushing past, some pausing briefly, as if orienting themselves, then continuing on.
The noise rose.
Not chaotic.
But alive.
The room no longer felt stuck.
It felt busy.
Not organised.
Not aligned.
But regulated enough to move.
And within that movement, something else began to take shape.
Not agreement.
Affinity.
People lingering longer with some than others. Conversations deepening in pockets. Energy settling, not disappearing, just finding form.
No one announced it.
No one decided it.
It just happened.
Marcus glanced across the room, took it all in, then checked his phone again. This time it rang.
He winced, nodded an apology to no one in particular, and stepped outside to take the call.
The room didn’t notice right away.
And that, somehow, mattered.
Not because Marcus wasn’t important.
But because the room didn’t need him to keep moving.
Helen looked up from a conversation she was deep in, pen finally out again, but this time she wasn’t writing alone. She was listening.
Lena laughed loudly at something someone said, clapped her hands once, delighted.
Sam remained where he was.
Not holding the room together.
Just not getting in the way.
And for the first time, the group wasn’t waiting for clarity.
They were discovering each other.
Reflections
When structure disappears, what do you do first?
Do you freeze?
Do you move?
Do you look for someone to follow?
Or do you start talking to whoever is nearest?
When energy rises in a group, what helps you regulate?
Conversation?
Movement?
Humour?
Purpose?
And when no one is clearly “in charge”…
Do you step forward?
Step back?
Or finally feel free enough to be yourself?
What might become possible when regulation doesn’t come from control?
But from permission to move?
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