Apparently, the Universe Had Other Plans.

This was supposed to be a big week.

I was supposed to be in Texas, meeting with leadership, connecting with my team, and participating in conversations about the future.

I was genuinely excited.

Instead, I got my ass kicked by a severe sinus infection.

And not the cute kind where you drink some tea, take a nap, and wake up feeling refreshed.

I'm talking antibiotics, concerning blood pressure readings, and the kind of sinus pressure that makes you question whether your head is structurally sound.

So much for the plan.

And because apparently I can't just get sick like a normal person, I ended up having an existential crisis about human consciousness.

Naturally.

Here's what happened.

After several days of feeling physically miserable and mentally overwhelmed, I started noticing something about myself.

When I'm stressed, exhausted, or carrying what feels like the weight of the world on my shoulders, everything changes.

My thoughts get louder. Problems feel bigger. Decisions become harder. Things that would normally excite me suddenly feel like obligations.

But when I'm calm, grounded, and feeling more like myself, something shifts.

It's almost as if I regain access to information that was there all along.

And that got me thinking.

Most of us already know we're supposed to slow down, manage our stress, pay attention to our bodies, and think before we react.

Groundbreaking stuff, right?

But there's a difference between knowing something intellectually and actually experiencing what it means.

And an even bigger difference between experiencing something and learning how to apply it.

This morning, I went for a walk.

I put on Black Pumas, looked up at the sky, and saw the moon.

Which, naturally, sent me down another rabbit hole.

I can see the moon. I've never been there. I can't see gravity itself, but I know its effects can be measured. The moon's gravitational influence even helps move our oceans.

How much of reality are we experiencing without fully understanding what we're experiencing?

And how much of ourselves becomes harder to access when we're overwhelmed by the noise of everyday life?

I've spent the last year learning some difficult lessons about stress, perception, self-trust, and the difference between reacting to life and actually experiencing it.

I'm beginning to wonder whether one of the most important things we can learn is how to recognize the condition we're in when we're trying to understand the world around us.

Because maybe we don't always lose our clarity, creativity, patience, or perspective when we're overwhelmed.

Maybe sometimes we temporarily lose access to them.

And maybe finding our way back isn't always about thinking harder.

Sometimes it's about going outside. Listening to music. Feeling the sunshine. Laughing with your kids. Or simply allowing yourself to exist without needing to solve every problem in the universe before lunch.

I don't have all the answers.

Clearly. I went outside for a walk and ended up contemplating the laws of physics.

But I do have a question worth exploring:

If we already know so much about how to live, why is it so difficult to live according to what we know?

And what becomes possible when we finally slow down long enough to notice?

Part 1 of Three Essays on Being Human: States, Awareness & Character.

— Monica Cook