Falling Behind

It happens gradually, almost without noticing.

Like walking along the beach and finding yourself drifting further from the group—not because you chose to stop, but because your steps naturally follow a different rhythm.

I look around and see a world that is changing rapidly.

It is neither better nor worse—it is simply faster than I can keep up with.

I open Instagram and get lost in Reels that move at a dizzying speed, content that lasts mere seconds but that everyone seems to grasp instantly. My brain is still processing the first video while others have already watched twenty.

On TikTok, every teenager talks about trends that rise and fall before I can even understand what they mean.

ChatGPT suggests how I should write emails, Midjourney creates art in seconds, while I am still here searching for the right words, taking my time before replying.

My inbox is full of newsletters about the latest innovation I should absolutely be aware of, the newest language model that will change the world, the latest tool that will make my work “ten times more efficient.”

I notice it most in the workplace. Younger colleagues talk about automating processes I have always handled with care, about replacing with Artificial Intelligence the skills I have spent years perfecting.

I gather that I must adapt, that I must reinvent myself, as if the decades spent building my expertise have suddenly become obsolete.

And yet, I know there is value in my way of working—in my ability to see nuances no algorithm can grasp, to understand contexts no machine across the ocean can truly interpret.

It is not resistance to change—it is the awareness that not everything new is necessarily better, that not everything faster is deeper.

It is not a matter of age, or not just that, at least. I have met twenty-year-olds who feel the same way I do, and seventy-year-olds who navigate Threads and Discord with ease. It is more about an inner rhythm, about how our spirit aligns with the time we live in.

I have realised that there are others like me. I see it when they prefer a half-hour phone call to fifty WhatsApp messages, when they choose to write a complete thought rather than share yet another meme on X.

I recognise them when, instead of asking a screen to summarise a concept, they take the time to process it, to let it settle.

There is no pride in falling behind, nor shame. It is simply what is happening. Like trees in a forest—some grow taller, reaching for the light, others stay lower, finding their space in the shade. No one wins, no one loses. Each finds their place.

Perhaps one day our paths will cross again. Perhaps they won’t. In the meantime, I continue walking at my own pace, appreciating the view from here, from this more distant place. There is a calmness in stepping away, a peace in letting the world rush on while I find my own speed.

It is not a revolution.

It is not a battle.

It is simply a deeper breath, a longer thought, a slower moment in a world that no longer knows how to stop.