Some Thoughts are Meant to Travel
This week, 2 people I deeply admire and love, and rarely get the chance to truly catch up with, reached out to me out of the blue. What surprised me was how much those messages stayed with me throughout the day. They quietly shaped my mood and kept reminding me, again and again, of how much there is to feel grateful for. There was nothing dramatic about them, and yet they reminded me that I matter to people, and I found myself moving through the day as if that were true. All of this landed on the full moon too, which felt like a pretty clear sign that it was something I was meant to pause and pay attention to.
Not that long ago I was very much in the habit of sending what I affectionately called “love bombs.” Short, unprompted messages letting people know I was thinking about them or appreciating them in some way. It felt natural and connective, and it mattered to me. Somewhere along the way, life became louder and more crowded, and my capacity changed. Without fully realizing it, I started to associate sending a message with everything that might follow. If I reached out, I imagined it would open the door to a longer conversation I might not have the bandwidth to sustain. I worried about starting something I could not continue, and then I felt guilty for even having that thought, as if the presence of limits somehow made the affection less real. Looking back, there is something almost absurd about that. The hesitation came entirely from warmth, from genuinely thinking about someone, and yet I managed to turn that moment into a quiet internal debate.
What this week reminded me is that simply telling someone you are thinking of them does not require anything more. It does not obligate depth or follow-through or emotional stamina you may not have in that moment. It can exist as a complete act on its own. There is something deeply comforting about knowing someone was thinking of you, not because you did anything special, but simply because you came to mind. From a psychological perspective, even brief expressions of connection support our sense of safety and belonging. They land differently because they are not transactional. They ask nothing. And to be clear, I am not afraid of conversation. I am afraid of my capacity disappointing someone after I say I am thinking of them, which is an almost comical amount of future-tripping for a message that starts as pure affection. We all have our own internal logic for not reaching out (i.e., not wanting to bother them, assuming they already know, waiting until we have something more impressive to say), and when you line them up, they all kind of fall apart. All of the reasons fall apart because they turn a kind thought into a logistical problem, when it was never meant to be one.
I keep picturing how many thoughts like this pass through us every day and disappear. How often we think of someone with tenderness and let it float by, unspoken. And I keep imagining what would happen if more of those thoughts turned into action, if they actually reached the person they were meant for. People moving through their weeks receiving small reminders that they live in someone else’s awareness. That they matter enough to be remembered mid-day, mid-life, mid-chaos. There is something quietly radical about that. Energetically, it feels like circulation. Like warmth being allowed to move instead of getting stuck. Even just imagining that kind of exchange gives me a sense of second-hand gratitude, as if the world itself would soften a little if more of our kind thoughts were delivered instead of lost!
Lately, I have also been hearing a heavier version of this truth from people who wish they had said something before it was too late. People who assumed there would be another moment, another chance to reach out, another opportunity to say it better. None of us are here indefinitely. Knowing that has a way of clarifying how little most of the rules actually matter.
So this is a reminder I am holding for myself. When someone comes to mind, tell them. Not once you have figured out what happens next. Not when life is calmer. Just tell them. Being thought of does not need to be profound to be powerful. It just has to be shared, okay?
