How it works

What is a pannel?

A circle of three to seven people, around one person and one question at a time. The person in the middle is the one who invited everyone. Everyone else holds a seat. Software handles the mechanics: the invitations, the sealed rounds, the record. The people do the rest.

How do I get invited?

Only by the person at the centre. Mira writes each invitation herself, to one named person, for one named seat, and sends it through whatever channel they already share. There is no list, no search, no importing of contacts. The link in the invitation opens without an account, and answering it requires installing nothing.

Before you accept, the invitation says what you're agreeing to: that the circle keeps a short record of what it decides, and that anything written here is checked against a short list of phrases, so that someone in crisis is pointed to help and Sunil is told.

You'll get one reminder at most. If you decline, the product answers with one line and means it: “Understood. Nothing else will arrive about this.” If you don't answer within fourteen days, that counts as an answer, and no one is asked to chase you.

What happens before the first question?

The circle meets once, on a call, to agree how it will work: what it's for, how often it meets, what stays inside it. That is the working agreement. Each person also signs a short promise of their own. Until that first session has happened, the software will not carry a question to the group. Mira's sister missed the first call; she has a week to sign, and until she does the questions don't reach her.

This isn't paperwork for its own sake. Nobody says the true thing in a room whose rules they don't know.

How does a question get asked?

Mira writes her question and says how much it weighs: light, significant or heavy. The product's tone changes with the weight; at heavy it drops any warmth of phrasing and speaks plainly, because plain is what you can hear when it matters. Her question is heavy.

The question goes to the circle before the session, not in its first minute, so nobody meets it cold. If any part of it touches crisis, harm to yourself or to someone else, the product stops and shows help first: real helplines, and one person, Sunil, who answers when he can. That part of the product is never paid for and never will be.

What is a sealed round?

Each person writes their answer without seeing anyone else's. There is no first voice to agree with and no thread to pile onto. The answers open all at once, when everyone's is in or when the round's time is up. The product's own line for that moment: “All in. Here's what the circle said. Everyone at once, nobody first.”

Nobody's order of arrival is shown, to anyone. If someone didn't answer, the round says how many, never who. (In a circle of four, you may be able to work it out. The product won't help you.)

One practical truth: written answers arrive by email, so they are only as private as your inbox. When you're seated you'll be asked whether the address is yours alone; if it isn't, you can choose to receive only a note that a round is open, and read the question after signing in.

Mira's four answers open on a Thursday evening. Three say the same thing from different sides; the fourth says something none of them had thought of.

Who runs a live session?

A person. One member holds the role of host for the season, and runs the call with a short card of practices: one voice at a time, everyone heard before anyone replies. The software holds the question, its weight, and the record. It does not run the call, the calendar or the clock.

What gets kept?

After a session, the person at the centre writes down what was actually decided, in a few lines. Everyone who was there gets one message saying the read-back is ready, and has seventy-two hours to correct it; after that it stands.

For a live session, that read-back is the only thing kept. The conversation is never recorded, so there is nothing to leak. Written rounds are different, and say so: text, once sent, can be kept. Mira's read-back is four lines. The fourth line is the thing nobody had thought of.

What if I said I'd do something?

Unless you tell it otherwise, a commitment made in the circle gets at most three reminders, and then none. Not because the product has forgotten, but because a reminder that never stops makes the machine responsible for the promise, and the point is that you are. If you want the asking to continue, you have to say so yourself.

How long does it last?

Twelve weeks at a time. At the end, the host role passes to someone else, the working agreement is re-read and agreed again, and the circle can go on, rest, or end. Meeting on a fixed rhythm rather than whenever someone feels like it means a quiet fortnight is just a quiet fortnight. Nobody has to wonder what it means.

Can I leave?

At any point, by telling the person at the centre or the host. That ends it; the circle's size is restated and life goes on. There is no “are you sure”, no “your circle will miss you”, no last-chance message. Those things work, which is exactly why they're not here: what they produce is people who stay for the wrong reason.

What does it refuse to do?

No importing your contacts, ever. No streaks, scores or badges. No public counts of seats or followers. No countdown on an invitation. No “seen”, no “typing…”, no read receipts; the software does not watch you read. These aren't features we haven't built yet. They're the product.