I caught myself thinking that I can walk half the way home and not remember a single step. As if the body itself knows the route, and the mind is wandering somewhere in its thoughts. And this is scary and strange at the same time. 🤯

And how many conversations are on autopilot? "How are you?" - "Fine." "What's new?" - "Oh, nothing." We throw out these phrases without even thinking about what is hidden behind them. When was the last time I really listened to the answer? When did I answer honestly myself, and not with a routine smile?

Automatism saves us when you don't want to waste energy. But at the same time, it steals moments of life. The taste of food, the smell of the street after the rain, the look of a random passerby - all this flies by, because the usual program is working inside.

Sometimes I just want to press "stop". Sit down and feel: I'm here, I'm breathing, I'm living. Not in autopilot mode, but for real. 🌿

And here I have a question: what are we missing while we fly on this machine? Maybe it's there - between the usual movements and unlearned words - that life itself is hiding? 🤔

Iria