The other day, a friend sent me that picture from Australia. It was the night sky in Adelaide. The white specks? They were stars peppering the sky in ways that I had never seen before.
I
When I was a kid, I still remember the joy of getting a chair out in our little front yard, sitting there, and looking up at the night sky. I don't remember what it looked like, but I knew there were stars, sometimes the moon, sometimes clouds, and how amazing it felt. It feels even better when — in your field of vision — you don’t see any buildings, streetlights, trees, or people — anything but the sky full of stars.
As if you are truly on a planet. On Earth. Wandering around in deep space at a crazily high speed unbeknownst to you.
It feels surreal. I can't explain it as well as you experiencing it yourself. But it is as if the lots that life throws at you slowly fade away and don't matter. As though time has come to a quiet halt and you slowly remember how tiny you are, how delicate and futile your existence is in this vast universe which you will never, ever, have the chance to see it all.
But here you are — alive and well. That's crazy. That’s something to take pride in. To have a pat on the shoulder for. To be thankful for.
I like how that friend sent me the photo that night. It was timely, as it gave me the idea to write this story and to tell you and me that the world is huge. That many things are happening at the same time all over the place. Many lives are happening. Many stories are being told and lived. When I first saw the picture, a thought came to mind,
The world is beautifully huge, but it's very easy to forget that.
II
Looking back, I learned that your perspectives could slowly get limited by the four walls surrounding you. Whether it was spending time largely in my dorm and avoiding people back in my early A-Level/university days. Or lockdowns. Or being back at my childhood home where my family is — a good, old comfort zone.
Lately, I have been feeling that way. The four walls of my house — albeit protective — were blinding me from seeing what I should see. The realization that I was slowly reverting to the old self I had been trying to move on from scared me.
From experience, I knew this had something to do with staying in a comfort zone for too long. Because, when I saw a photo like that — sent by someone I know — I could sense the metaphorical walls breaking down. I felt a similar way when I started getting back on X (formerly Twitter) after a year-long hiatus. When I saw the creator-friends I knew who were still working hard consistently to realize their dreams.
The night sky. The creator-friends on X. They truly made me feel the massiveness of this world. And the beauty of many things happening around you.
Even as you spend hours doom scrolling, there are people seeing the world for its gifts, living their lives like movies worth watching.
It feels like a waste not to do that, too.
—Thomas🦙
P.S.
Just finished an exam today (I’m a chemical x environmental engineering student, by the way). Had some mixed feelings as I walked out of the exam hall.
Did I do my best?
What does “best” even mean?
Writing this post is a good reminder that the world is huge, and so are the opportunities you can create and capitalize on. This may feel a little like self-consolation or the story of the fox and the grapes, but while acing that test is a means to a good life, it is not the only means.
At least, that is what I would like to think. It is liberating.
🏆 Weekly Gold
Each week, I share something I found interesting with you. It could be a song, a book, a quote, or a YouTube video that blew my mind.
Here’s the gold this week 👇
When deciding whether to say yes to a future commitment, a good filter is asking if you would say “yes” to that commitment if it were happening tomorrow. A lot of possible “yes’s” quickly become “no’s” when you inject a bit of urgency.
-Jack Raines, Everything Wrong with New Year’s Resolutions
This blew my mind. It reminds me of Mark Rober’s speech to the MIT Class of 2023 where he mentioned “naive optimism” — a (sometimes) unrealistically positive mindset that everything will turn out well because one hasn’t known the struggles it would take to get there.
When a commitment is some time away, it sounds like you can do it. Maybe, it is because it is still some time away that you can leave the hassles to the future you. That’s akin to naive optimism. But, as Jack wrote, adding a bit of urgency brings the commitment to the present to show you what fulfilling it would be like.
And if the struggles are still worth it, you can say “yes”.
Brilliant.