Reflections

We often know when it’s time to move on. A quiet sense in the body. A flicker of boredom. A hunch that the work is finished.

But instead of acting, we reason ourselves out of it. We say it pays the bills. We tell ourselves we might lose everything. We wait for a certainty that never comes.

And so we stay too long. Not because the work still matters, but because insecurity whispers that leaving is dangerous.

Leaving early carries risks. But so does waiting. Because fear doesn’t fade with time, it just trades places with regret.

Fear doesn’t vanish the moment we decide. But acting in spite of it is the only way to avoid looking back and wishing we’d listened to our intuition.

I swipe my finger at the boom gate and it lifts. Just a camera scanning plates, but it feels like wizardry.

The wave of a finger is enough to turn ordinary into magic.

Sometimes it stalls. Maybe I fumbled the spell.

What else could we choose to see that way?

The phone in your pocket, the water flowing at a tap, the voice message that travels across oceans in seconds.

Everyday wizardry is everywhere. It’s only invisible because we stop looking.