The other day, I found myself completely out of the loop on a shocking news story. An insurance executive had been assassinated, and the details were chilling—the murderer had labeled bullet casings to highlight the tactics some insurers use to avoid payouts. It was the kind of story that sparks immediate, visceral reactions, and my friends were deep in conversation about it.

And me? I had no idea what they were talking about.

For a moment, I felt like I was missing something important—not just the story itself, but the shared experience of processing it together. There’s a certain camaraderie in feeling the weight of a moment with others, and I wasn’t part of that. It stung a little.

But then something wonderful happened. One of my friends, someone who is endlessly kind and supportive, filled me in. In about 30 seconds, I was caught up on the essentials—enough to understand the gravity of the situation and join the conversation.

From my perspective, this was a win. I didn’t need to wade through hours of doomscrolling or dive into every gory detail to stay informed. In one brief, compassionate moment, I had what I needed.

Still, the experience was mixed. On one hand, it reaffirmed my belief that I don’t need to be plugged into the 24/7 news cycle to stay connected. Stories like this will find their way to me, either through my curated channels or in conversations like this one. On the other hand, I missed the immediacy of that shared emotional reaction—feeling the shock and sadness at the same time as my friends.

This experience raised a question I’m still working through: how do I balance staying informed at my own pace while remaining part of the shared human experience of reacting to news? I also don’t want to burden others with constantly filling me in, even though their kindness in doing so is deeply appreciated.

For now, I’m choosing to see this moment as an opportunity. It’s a reminder that stepping back from the noise doesn’t mean losing connection—it just means finding new ways to engage. My approach isn’t perfect, but moments like this help me refine it and remind me of the power of kindness, patience, and perspective.