At the risk of lapsing into sports-cliché territory, this week’s eclipse showed us a lot about “effort”.

Giving something “your all” means something, and it’s significant.

The difference between ninety-nine percent and totality is striking:

With 99 percent of the sun covered, it remained absolutely impossible to look up with the naked eye (except for those who wanted to impress Tucker Carlson).

It was daylight outside – not even dusk, more like the start of a summer shower. Temperatures were still mid-morning warm.

Going from “99” to “100” did not just make it “one darker”.

With 100 percent of the sun covered, it was more than a step-change.

It was monumental.

 

Temperatures plunged. Birds panicked. Stars, planets, the International Freakin’ Space Station, were visible.

You could stare at the sun.

And what you saw was – nothing. An impression. An empty space once occupied by that from whence all of our power comes. Solar winds circling the perimeter of nothingness.

Then everything shifted again; one percent of the sun was visible.

And it became a summer morning again. And it became impossible to look at the sun – even if you squinted really good-like.

And everyone clapped, got in their cars, and drove away.

And it became a normal, sunny, summer morning – with 98 percent of the sun still blocked.

 

The difference between ninety-nine percent and totality is striking.

Giving something “your all” means something, and it’s significant.