I want to tell a story about a man walking backward. But was he really going back?
Yesterday, I was in a taxi, lit by the early morning. I turned my head and saw a man walking where everyone else was coming from, in a small park. He looked into my eyes—again and again, all thanks to the traffic. I thought I understood why he was doing that. I knew it was called retro walking, a great exercise for balance and strength. But this story isn’t about sports.
For the next 20 minutes, as the car passed other morning travelers, I thought: Why was I happy to see that man moving in reverse? Why did I understand him? And why was it important that I did? But this story isn’t about my morning.
Isn't the point of obsessive learning not just to become smarter but to increase our empathy for people?
It's like discovering a shared taste in music with someone who speaks a different language. Or seeing the same curiosity in a child’s eyes that you don’t want to lose. Obsessive learning builds bridges—small, unexpected connections that bring us closer.
I can’t think of a better way to connect with any human on earth.
That’s how a man moving backward connected the dots from my past. And it turned out, that’s the point of learning for me.
"You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backward," as someone named Steve once said. Yesterday morning, I understood him in that man’s eyes.