Inertia—notes from the space where rest meets motion.
To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive, and the true success is to labour.
— Robert Louis Stevenson
We know inertia as the tendency for objects to dance in an eternal waltz of motion and rest, waiting for something or someone to disrupt their daze. Well, we’re not so different.
The past twelve years or so taught a beautiful lesson about how life rarely goes to plan. It began in Sorrento, where teenage dreams first tasted reality’s salt. Kindness doesn’t guarantee love or embrace. Perfect moments can fracture like sea glass. The easy path rarely exists outside of fairy tales. And even when you pause to breathe, sadness can find you.
But here’s the secret about inevitability—it bows to choice. We sink into the quicksand of the status quo, what wise minds call psychological inertia; our hearts whisper the idea of movement while our feet remember stone. I know this contradiction as I lived it in my bones for a long while. So these words are my way of breaking free of them.
We expect hope to decorate our lives, but it can be a trickster, painting tomorrow in watercolour dreams. But how do you feel when tomorrow keeps wearing today’s face? When promotions turn to vapour, beautiful stories end mid-breath, and bank accounts mock your midnight ambitions?
These essays—weekly reflections—they’re not about arriving. They’re about travelling, learning, and finding joy in the motion. Happiness and success look different for everyone, so I don’t have all the answers. But here, I can help you turn rest into motion, consider your horizon an invitation, and see that some songs sing sweetest when the artist is searching.
