I watch people tap their phones at the lights.
Foot twitching. Eyes already elsewhere.
The day hasn’t started and it’s already behind.
We rush meals. We skim messages. We plan answers before the question lands.
Speed feels productive. It looks like progress.
But hurry blurs the edges.
You miss the pause before someone speaks.
The moment a thought could change.
The quiet cue that tells you what actually matters.
Hurry isn’t movement. It’s noise.
It fills the gaps where meaning tends to show up.
Nothing important asks to be sprinted through.
Friendship. Learning. Healing. Good work.
They all unfold at a human pace.