Thinking Slowly in a Fast World

I’ve been trying to reclaim the habit of thinking slowly. Not overthinking—just thinking with patience.

Most days, the world encourages the opposite: quick answers, quick opinions, quick decisions. But I’ve noticed that the most meaningful insights don’t come from speed. They come from letting a thought breathe.

Sometimes I sit with a coffee, no phone, no agenda, no task list, and I simply let my mind wander. At first it feels unproductive. Then something shifts. Ideas connect. Memories surface. A problem that felt unclear becomes sharper.

It made me realise that thinking is a skill, and like all skills, it needs space to function.

Life feels different when you stop treating every moment like it must be optimized. Slow thinking brings clarity, and clarity brings peace. And honestly, I think we could all use more of both.

Walking Through Cambridge in the Quiet Hours

There’s a certain hour in Cambridge—just after sunrise, before the students fully populate the pavements—when the city feels like it’s quietly stretching its arms. The streets are still damp, bicycles are parked neatly like they are waiting for instructions, and you can hear the soft hum of the river even from a distance.

I like walking during that time. Not for exercise or productivity or anything with a purpose. Just to notice things.

There’s always something slightly different: a new flower blooming near the colleges, a small change in the sky, a café that opened its lights a little earlier than usual. These tiny details become markers of my own rhythm, reminders that the world doesn’t need to be loud to be meaningful.

Living here taught me something simple: slow places make you think differently. They give your mind room to wander without getting lost. Cambridge doesn’t rush you. It invites you to walk, observe, and breathe. And sometimes, that’s enough.