Recently, for the first time in ages, I bought an issue of Bazaar.
I just felt like indulging in some visual inspiration — fashion, beautiful homes, even more beautiful people…
I read, flipped through the pages, admired everything… and suddenly something clicked.
A quiet little aha. Nothing groundbreaking, and yet the world stopped for a moment.

I realized how desperately we try to be… better.
Better people.
Better workers.
Better bodies, better homes, better systems.
We simplify, organize, optimize…
and still believe we’re not quite enough.

To be fair — it’s not wrong. This isn’t a moral sermon about “shame on you, consumerist humanity.”
Just a reminder that in our run for higher performance, we tend to overlook one subtle step.

The one that doesn’t sell well.
The one you can’t package into an e-book titled 5 Ways to Find Your True Self.
The one we postpone because we “just need to finish this one last thing.”

A step into silence.
Into emptiness.
Into the unknown.
A step many of us never even reach — because before we realize it exists, there is simply… the end.

And then you look at people:
Some die wealthy, others poor. Some happy, others exhausted.

But the more sensitive among us feel it all along: something is missing.
Something that can’t be bought. Or invented. Or programmed.

Goals are nice. Dopamine is nice.
But it usually lasts only a moment.
Except in those moments when we do something for others — that stays in a different way.
Maybe that’s why so many successful people end up doing charity.
Maybe we feel more alive when we’re giving.

We have AI now. Tomorrow we’ll have Mars. Wonderful!

But people haven’t changed.
We’re capable of incredible things — affection, kindness, wisdom…
And at the same time, we’re capable of stealing a blind man’s wallet.
A strange combination that probably wouldn’t pass evolutionary approval in any other species.

And somehow, we keep stealing from each other too — time, attention, inner peace.
Even though we could collaborate, create together… instead of endlessly competing over who’s “more” today.

Sometimes a quiet sadness creeps into my chest.
Like when you know things could be different — and secretly keep hoping they one day will be.

AI will save us a lot of time.
One day it will operate, create, run companies, clean up the mess we made ourselves.
It all sounds wonderful.
But then there’s one question left:

What will we do with that time?

Maybe a moment will come when we’ll feel the world differently.
Not according to templates, expectations, norms, and how-to guides.
But as it truly is.

And it all begins the moment we stop circling around the edges of our own lives…
and finally step into the center of our own circle.
The place where there is calm.
Where the world doesn’t shrink — we simply stop chasing it.

When we stand in our center, the circle never feels empty.
It feels empty only when we linger on the edge, constantly trying to run toward something just out of reach.

Thank you for your visit – I’m looking forward to seeing you again next time.