Stability Isn’t the Same as Flow

For a long time, I thought stability and good communication were enough…that if you worked hard at a relationship, flow and connection would naturally follow.

But they don’t.
Not always.

Sometimes two people can share affection, safety, and even intimacy… and still miss the spark that makes everything feel alive.

That kind of flow doesn’t come from effort alone, there’s a deeper layer of nervous-system compatibility that has to exist.
Mutual affection doesn’t equal reciprocal energy. For example, you can have all the intimate facets (touch, talk, connection), yet still lack the spark of play or a sense of moving forward together. Sometimes a relationship can feel emotionally rich, yet subtly draining, if for example, playfulness is missing and is the thing that makes you feel most alive.

I used to make decisions top-down: over-analysing data, drawing insights, reasoning my way through everything. These days, it’s more bottom-up…the collection of experiences either feels right or doesn’t. Sometimes you know immediately; other times you have to let it unfold until you feel certain of the path. And we’ve all been in situations where our intuition knew the answer long before our intellect caught up.

These days, I don’t analyse connection as much.
I just notice whether my body relaxes or braces.
Whether things flow…or don’t.

That usually tells me everything I need to know.

The modern global system is a continuation of historical class structures, now masked by corporate, technological, and political complexity. The dynastic wealthy elite and the merchant class have engineered an environment that perpetuates their dominance, a self-reinforcing system designed to be unbeatable until it’s widely recognised and challenged.

Gentrification is weird, man. I thought I’d be into it, you know, polished coffee shops, places that sell only cacti and vibes.

But I miss the old locally owned spots. They were rough around the edges, but real, like some auntie’s haberdashery that also sold chicken wraps
…and unsolicited marriage advice. Wholesome stuff.

That’s why we need to bring back community land trusts.
Actually, we should rebrand them to protect them… call them Community Land Investment Trusts.
Or C.L.I.T. for short.

Because the hipsters wouldn’t be able to find it.

…Downside is, nobody else might find it either.

Overheard in a coffee shop:

“I think it’s more complicated than that.
Careers and friendships have narrow trajectories. They don’t break you open or challenge your reflexes and emotional range as much as a loving relationship does.
It’s the biggest blank canvas there is… they each have a paintbrush in hand, facing themselves and each other.”

Some comments I found:

  • Credentials and money are not antidotes to the lingering effects of childhood maltreatment.
  • Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death. Many turn their backs to the table and complain how hungry they are and that there is nothing they can eat. They will stand between you and the banquet for however long you let them. So relieve yourself of them by whatever means necessary.
  • One cannot satisfy a thirst by drinking sea water
  • I’m tired of paying taxes to a government that doesn’t represent me, and is actively working against me.
  • The word democracy makes people feel safe…but it doesn’t exist. People are a labor force, that need a kind, but firm hand. There are not nations. There’s Apple, Exxon, and Berkshire Hathaway. Corporations are the real superpower. [Victoria Neumann, The Boys tv series]
  • The entire world is run as an economic machine, constructed with no regard for the collective good of humanity.

I have the soul of a poet and the mind of an engineer… a disastrous combo for my sanity.

Mirages of Modernity

I visited a city for the first time. I put some thoughts together:

It strikes me as an artificial monument to excess…where refrigerated interiors and arid exteriors reflect a deeper disconnection from nature and humanity. It thrives on spectacle and subjugation: imported labourers build the skyline while the elite applaud the illusion of “efficiency” and “luxury.”
Its environmental negligence isn’t born of necessity. It tries to come off as ambitious, but it’s basically greed dressed as aspiration. Rather than leading as a beacon of sustainable innovation, it becomes a playground for the wealthy, powered by exploited workers and extractive economics.

Notes:

  1. Instead of adapting to its geography with humility, it tries to dominate it…creating islands, mega-malls in defiance of ecological logic.
  2. It mimics Western consumerism and glosses over regional depth for aesthetic conformity.
  3. It postures religious values, but its soul is commodified. Symbols of faith dot the skyline, but ethical care for fellow humans is absent in labour conditions and social equity.
  4. Skyscrapers and imported foliage suggest advancement, but they mask a brittle system: socially and ecologically unsustainable, built on finite resources and infinite marketing.
  5. Most residents are expats on time-limited visas, leading to a city with little emotional or generational continuity. It feels rented, not lived in. It’s hard to belong here.
  6. Its culture isn’t built on art, music, or collective imagination…but on status, luxury cars, and controlled aesthetics. Depth is traded for surface sheen.
  7. A reputation for suppressing dissent, hyper-surveillance, and lack of free expression underscores the shiny surface with an undertone of quiet authoritarianism.

Found somewhere in a comments section, and I thought it was super evocative:

You can read every book on meditation.. .but until you sit with your breath, you’re still far from going inward.
You can memorise every theory on swimming…
but until your body touches the water, you’re still dry.
And love is no different.

You can analyse every pattern, quote every psychologist, watch every video.
but until you open your heart and feel, you’re not really tasting the ecstasy of love.
Love was never meant to be dissected under a microscope.
It was meant to be lived.
Messy. Vulnerable. Unscripted.

If Romeo had known about attachment styles, he might have ghosted Juliet.
We are drowning in information and starving for intimacy.
Now, every human emotion comes with a diagnostic label:
They didn’t text? Must be avoidant.
They care too much? Codependent.
They’re hot and cold? Push-pull game.

When you filter every experience through a psychological lens, you forget to feel the actual experience.
Let’s be clear: Awareness of patterns is essential.
But when overused, awareness becomes armour.
And love needs your naked presence.
Not your theories.
It cannot be understood by thought alone.
It must be danced with. Sung to. Breathed in.

The Sufi poets knew this well.
They didn’t seek love that made sense.
They sought love that ruined their plans.
That broke their logic.
That rearranged their soul.

Modern spirituality sells the myth: Once you heal, you’ll attract the perfect partner.
But love doesn’t come as a reward for perfection.
It arrives as a teacher during your imperfection.

So here’s your invitation: Let go of the checklist. The analysis. The fear of not getting it right.
Let yourself fall. Let yourself feel. Let yourself fuck it up.
And let it still be sacred.
Because love is not a concept.
It’s not a label. It’s not a theory to master.

Love is a holy experience.
And you don’t study holiness. You surrender to it.