The World Adjusts Around Me
Without anyone asking permission
I don’t announce it, but things around me have changed. Chairs are chosen more carefully. Exits are noticed earlier. I position myself where standing up later won’t cost as much as it used to. None of this is dramatic. It’s quiet and constant.
Rooms feel different now. I register where I’ll sit before I arrive. I notice how far I’ll have to walk once I’m there. I scan for railings, armrests, places to pause. Other people move through spaces casually. I move through them deliberately.
Plans still happen, but they bend. I arrive earlier so I can move slower. I leave sooner so I don’t have to push at the end. I build small margins into everything, not because I want to, but because experience has taught me what happens if I don’t.
People around me adjust too, often without realizing it. Conversations shift to where I’m sitting. Activities shorten. Breaks appear naturally. No one names it, but the shape of the day quietly rearranges itself.
What’s strange is how normal this becomes. At some point, the adjustments stop feeling like accommodations and start feeling like the default. I don’t think about the old way much anymore. I work within what’s here now.
Nothing is being fixed on this page. Nothing is being solved. This is just the lived reality of moving through a world that slowly, subtly, has learned to move around me too.