Train Of Thought
disconnect 013/237
[5 January 2025]
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For the past two weeks, I have been in an almost constant state of observation. Unlike usual, I didn’t take any notes on the thoughts that appeared in my mind. Nothing inspired me to write them down during my night walks, museum visits, or just being alone.
As I sit on the train to Berlin on the afternoon of December 28, I am surrounded by people chatting about what awaits them at work when they return from the holidays. A few rows behind me, children are screaming about wanting chicken nuggets and fries. Some passengers are standing in the aisles because the train is overcrowded.
I am fortunate to have a seat and escape into my notebook, writing down my thoughts as they arise, knowing that eventually, something worth sharing with you will come from I don’t know where into my mind, through my hand, onto the pages.
A few days before Christmas, I spent four days alone at home while my girlfriend had already left to visit her family for the holidays. I wanted to take advantage of this solitude and fully disconnect before heading to see my own family. I put my phone on airplane mode, avoided any social interactions, intending to prepare for the often overwhelming amount of socializing that comes with the Christmas season.
The last time I disconnected for several days was at my mom's house in August. At that time, I hadn’t yet started working on the songs that would make up the final version of 40 Nights in Toronto, which I just finished mixing a couple of days ago. I was on an inward journey, searching for answers to questions about why I had been making music for half of my life, why I had become obsessed with creating art every day, and what the purpose of it all was. Taking the time to disconnect allowed me to create space, which ultimately helped me find the answers within myself (I wrote about this experience here).
Now, about four and a half months later, I only need to put the finishing touches on the video that will accompany the songs I produced to complete my vision of creating an audiovisual album. I realized that, in this moment, I no longer needd to disconnect fully to avoid distractions and create space to find answers.
It is time to emerge from the liminal space I’ve been in since I decided to leave Berlin at the end of 2023. For the past 12 months, it was impossible to look ahead for more than a few weeks. I had no idea where I would be, what I would do, or what my life would look like beyond the next few weeks at almost any moment.
It was a year full of uncertainty, full of surrendering to it, embracing it, and enjoying the unknown. I am extremely grateful for the freedom I had. I’ve taken advantage of the space that partially presented itself to me naturally and partially was intentionally created by myself. I turned this uncertainty into a playground for my thoughts, which gradually shaped my vision of what I want my life to look like.
I’ve never spent as much time with so few outside influences as I did over the last year. Not only have I had limited interactions with people, but my consumption of news, social media, and other external inputs has been very low to absent as well. As a result, I’ve never felt this much at peace with myself and with whatever has been happening around me.
I believe that our overstimulated, hyper-connected world isn’t healthy. Continuously seeking satisfaction from outside stimuli leads to a loss of self-identity. Many people seem to be driven by a fear of missing out and a fear of being with themselves.
Instead of a fear of missing out, I developed a joy of missing out. Most of the time, I feel much more at peace when I am by myself rather than with others. But not always.
Even though sometimes my mind has been drifting in that direction, I don’t want to avoid social interactions altogether. Enjoying the company of others and having meaningful interactions just requires that I spend significant time in my own world.
I don’t want it to be a matter of withdrawing or disconnecting because I've been with people for too long; rather, it’s about intentionally disconnecting to recharge and spending time alone regularly, as it is essential for my well-being.
Another important realization I had while navigating the liminal space of the past year is that the ultimate goal of my art is to help people who resonate with my experiences feel better. I want my art to have a positive impact on those who often feel uncomfortable in large groups, those who prefer to live in their own worlds, those who don’t conform to societal expectations yet still struggle to navigate them because their values and focus differ from the majority.
Creating art benefits me because it makes me feel better. At the same time, bringing comfort to others and easing their lives fulfills me and enhances my own well-being. The logical conclusion is to find a way to transfer the healing power of my creative process to you when you experience my art.
As I was on the train, I noticed that many people tried to distract themselves during this transitional time. I overheard some passengers happily discussing how quickly time was passing on their train ride, while others complained that time felt like it was standing still.
A train ride - or any journey from point A to point B - is a liminal space, and many people seem to dislike it. I’ve come to appreciate transitional moments, such as a train ride, waiting in a doctor’s office, or standing in line. These situations often leave us with little to do, which makes them perfect for relaxing, introspection, or observation; essentially, for engaging in activities we often struggle to find time for.
The next time you find yourself waiting somewhere for several minutes, I encourage you to resist the urge to distract yourself with your phone, a book, music, or anything else. Instead, be present in the space you’re in, see how it feels, and what thoughts come to your mind. Maybe even write them down, and share them with someone.
Enjoy your day or night!
glg Soda Paapi
PS: If you have any feedback, I’m curious to hear it!
Train Of Thought
disconnect 013/237
[5 January 2025]
-----------------------
For the past two weeks, I have been in an almost constant state of observation. Unlike usual, I didn’t take any notes on the thoughts that appeared in my mind. Nothing inspired me to write them down during my night walks, museum visits, or just being alone.
As I sit on the train to Berlin on the afternoon of December 28, I am surrounded by people chatting about what awaits them at work when they return from the holidays. A few rows behind me, children are screaming about wanting chicken nuggets and fries. Some passengers are standing in the aisles because the train is overcrowded.
I am fortunate to have a seat and escape into my notebook, writing down my thoughts as they arise, knowing that eventually, something worth sharing with you will come from I don’t know where into my mind, through my hand, onto the pages.
A few days before Christmas, I spent four days alone at home while my girlfriend had already left to visit her family for the holidays. I wanted to take advantage of this solitude and fully disconnect before heading to see my own family. I put my phone on airplane mode, avoided any social interactions, intending to prepare for the often overwhelming amount of socializing that comes with the Christmas season.
The last time I disconnected for several days was at my mom's house in August. At that time, I hadn’t yet started working on the songs that would make up the final version of 40 Nights in Toronto, which I just finished mixing a couple of days ago. I was on an inward journey, searching for answers to questions about why I had been making music for half of my life, why I had become obsessed with creating art every day, and what the purpose of it all was. Taking the time to disconnect allowed me to create space, which ultimately helped me find the answers within myself (I wrote about this experience here).
Now, about four and a half months later, I only need to put the finishing touches on the video that will accompany the songs I produced to complete my vision of creating an audiovisual album. I realized that, in this moment, I no longer needd to disconnect fully to avoid distractions and create space to find answers.
It is time to emerge from the liminal space I’ve been in since I decided to leave Berlin at the end of 2023. For the past 12 months, it was impossible to look ahead for more than a few weeks. I had no idea where I would be, what I would do, or what my life would look like beyond the next few weeks at almost any moment.
It was a year full of uncertainty, full of surrendering to it, embracing it, and enjoying the unknown. I am extremely grateful for the freedom I had. I’ve taken advantage of the space that partially presented itself to me naturally and partially was intentionally created by myself. I turned this uncertainty into a playground for my thoughts, which gradually shaped my vision of what I want my life to look like.
I’ve never spent as much time with so few outside influences as I did over the last year. Not only have I had limited interactions with people, but my consumption of news, social media, and other external inputs has been very low to absent as well. As a result, I’ve never felt this much at peace with myself and with whatever has been happening around me.
I believe that our overstimulated, hyper-connected world isn’t healthy. Continuously seeking satisfaction from outside stimuli leads to a loss of self-identity. Many people seem to be driven by a fear of missing out and a fear of being with themselves.
Instead of a fear of missing out, I developed a joy of missing out. Most of the time, I feel much more at peace when I am by myself rather than with others. But not always.
Even though sometimes my mind has been drifting in that direction, I don’t want to avoid social interactions altogether. Enjoying the company of others and having meaningful interactions just requires that I spend significant time in my own world.
I don’t want it to be a matter of withdrawing or disconnecting because I've been with people for too long; rather, it’s about intentionally disconnecting to recharge and spending time alone regularly, as it is essential for my well-being.
Another important realization I had while navigating the liminal space of the past year is that the ultimate goal of my art is to help people who resonate with my experiences feel better. I want my art to have a positive impact on those who often feel uncomfortable in large groups, those who prefer to live in their own worlds, those who don’t conform to societal expectations yet still struggle to navigate them because their values and focus differ from the majority.
Creating art benefits me because it makes me feel better. At the same time, bringing comfort to others and easing their lives fulfills me and enhances my own well-being. The logical conclusion is to find a way to transfer the healing power of my creative process to you when you experience my art.
As I was on the train, I noticed that many people tried to distract themselves during this transitional time. I overheard some passengers happily discussing how quickly time was passing on their train ride, while others complained that time felt like it was standing still.
A train ride - or any journey from point A to point B - is a liminal space, and many people seem to dislike it. I’ve come to appreciate transitional moments, such as a train ride, waiting in a doctor’s office, or standing in line. These situations often leave us with little to do, which makes them perfect for relaxing, introspection, or observation; essentially, for engaging in activities we often struggle to find time for.
The next time you find yourself waiting somewhere for several minutes, I encourage you to resist the urge to distract yourself with your phone, a book, music, or anything else. Instead, be present in the space you’re in, see how it feels, and what thoughts come to your mind. Maybe even write them down, and share them with someone.
Enjoy your day or night!
glg Soda Paapi