Be the One Who Stops

In data and in life, kindness looks like this: “You okay?”

This morning, I tried to ride again.

First time in six months. Last time? A broken wrist. This time? A flat tire. Four kilometres in.

No patch kit. No quick fix. Just me, a sulking bike, and seven kilometres of rising desert heat.

But here’s the thing. People stopped. One offered a pump. Another, water. A quiet guy in sunglasses just nodded and said, “You good?”

Not everyone did. But enough. And somehow...that was everything.

It stayed with me.

Because in work, in life, in all the fast lanes we rush through— We see the wobbles.

The analyst lost in a maze of joins. The silence after “Any questions?” The dashboard no one wants to use, but no one critiques either.

We notice. And we pass by.

Maybe we’re busy. Maybe it’s not our place. Maybe we assume they’re fine.

But some people stop.

And those people? They shift the culture. They warm the room. They make things move again.

Be the one who stops.

On the bike path. In the boardroom. During the Friday code review.

It takes so little.

“Need a hand?” “Want to talk it through?” “Is this clear, or are we pretending it is?”

Stopping doesn’t mean standing still. It means choosing someone else’s pace for a moment. It means we all get further, together.

And in a world obsessed with speed— That’s the kind of rare that matters.