Tag: writing

And yet, as the world changes, I am neither stuck in time nor rushing to catch the first wagon. I prefer to stand with one foot forward and the other lingering behind. In that spread, in that gradient, there is a kind of depth—holding context from what was while venturing into what is becoming. It brings with it discomfort, the ache of missing what once was, but that is simply the cost of change.

Remembering is how we soften that cost, how we keep the past alive even as we move forward.

Taking a flight has always felt like one of the last rituals of the human condition where disconnection was still possible. There is something quietly bittersweet about it. The last texts sent, the goodbye calls made, the soft “I will miss yous” offered before the world slips out of reach. Then comes the waiting: loved ones tracking your path across the sky, sending their messages only when they imagine you’ve landed, when they believe you’ve found your signal again. For a few suspended hours, life allows a rare interlude, an enforced distance, a pocket of solitude in an always-available world.

But with the spread of onboard Wi-Fi, even this gentle distance, this small modern human ritual of absence, is beginning to vanish.