Karl's life

I am about to fly to London. It is Labor Day weekend so I don’t have to work on Monday and decided to take the long weekend to see my family. The bit I am most excited for is the flight itself. Six hours is the ideal length. It is not so long that you feel trapped. But it is long enough to think, read and not worry about anyone else.

A problem I suffer with is the amount of choice in the world. The internet age bought unlimited connectivity. You can use phone to text, email or call people whenever. At every moment that is an option. But also at every moment there is an option for someone to message you. So at every second of the day somebody is either connecting with you, or, much more likely, choosing not to.

This means constant rejection buzzing in the back of the mind, with an occasional interruption. A photo of a dog in the family group chat. The girl I went on a date with last week responding 18 hours after I messaged. A friend saying that he would “get back to me” about buying tickets to a concert next month.

On the plane this isn’t an option. Nobody can message me. For six blissful hours, the constant rejection ceases. I sit there with hundreds of other strangers without obligation.

This flight I am going to read War in Peace by Tolstoy. I started it last night and am already hooked. Napoleon the “great man” of the world is dividing opinion. Some men adore him, craving the power he has achieved and praising him for bringing together a broken French society after the revolution. In the same way that lonely men are drawn to Donald Trump, Nayib Bukele and Elon Musk today. Others see Napoleon as dictator, a villain and a coward. Too scared to give up the power he has seized and return it to the people.

I am not sure how I feel. I appreciate those with ambition and the drive to change the world, but my true admiration lies with those that have the confidence to step away. Maybe that is naive and idealistic? An idea that breaks down with contact with the real world? I don’t know. But I am looking forward to six hours alone in a thin metal tube above the Atlantic.