The art of unlearning (and then having to pay to remember)

Sometimes I stop to think about how complicated it has become to do simple things. We live in extraordinary times, with access to information and tools our grandparents couldn't even dream of. Yet, in this ocean of possibilities, we seem to have lost our bearings on the fundamentals.

We've become so accustomed to the background noise, the constant stream of notifications, tutorials, and "life hacks," that we forget that many of the answers we seek are already within us. They're silent, they don't have a dedicated app, and, most shockingly for the market, they're free.

Let's take the ability to be present, to savor a moment. Today we call it "mindfulness." It's become a product. An industry. There are courses, webinars, and paid retreats to teach us how to do something every child instinctively knows: marvel at a walking ant, get lost in the clouds, feel the warmth of the sun on our skin without having to post it on Instagram.

Don't get me wrong, every path to growth is valid. But my reflection is more bitter, more cynical: have we reached the point where we need to pay someone to give us permission to disconnect? To have to follow a structured method to rediscover the pleasure of a destinationless stroll?

I have my rituals. They don't have a fancy name, and they don't issue a certificate of participation. Sometimes it's the rumble of my motorbike engine that dies down when I stop at the top of a hill. Other times it's the rustling of leaves during a walk in the woods. Often, it's simply the silence of my garden at night, my gaze lost in a sky that couldn't care less about my problems and my deadlines.

This is my "awareness." I didn't learn it, I always knew it. I had just forgotten it, buried it under layers of urgencies, duties, and digital distractions.

Perhaps true luxury today isn't being able to afford the most exclusive course. Maybe it's having the courage to turn everything off and listen to ourselves. Rediscovering those small personal practices that put us back on track, without needing an expert to tell us how and when to do them.

The point I've reached is that modern society doesn't sell us solutions to new problems. Often, it sells us, at a high price, solutions to problems it itself has created. It takes away our time, our peace, and our ability to listen to ourselves, only to then sell us substitutes in the form of pills, courses, and subscriptions.

A brilliant mechanism, if you think about it. Terribly brilliant.

And you? What's that simple thing, that little free ritual of yours, that you refuse to let go or have to pay to "relearn"?

Let me know. Or maybe not. Maybe, instead of writing a comment, go do that thing.

It will work better.