There’s a very specific moment
when the meeting settles in.
Cameras on.
Voices level.
Someone sharing a screen.
And without fail—
that’s when they decide it’s time.
Not earlier.
Not later.
Exactly then.
A launch.
A paw.
A sudden need to be seen.
Rio positions himself like he belongs there.
Remi arrives like someone just called his name—
even though no one did.
They don’t ease into it.
They don’t check the timing.
They just… join.
Like the meeting is theirs too.
And for a second, I feel it—
the urge to fix it.
Move them.
Mute myself.
Apologize.
Because this isn’t the right time.
But they don’t know that.
Or maybe they just don’t agree.
Because from where they’re standing,
this is the moment.
I’m here.
They’re here.
That’s enough.
No calendar blocks.
No “circle back.”
No waiting for a better version of attention.
Just presence—
a little mistimed,
a little inconvenient,
but completely certain.
And I think about how often
we wait for the right moment to show up.
To check in.
To reach out.
To be part of something.
We smooth it out.
We time it better.
We make it fit.
They don’t.
They just step in—
right in the middle of it.
Uninvited.
Unpolished.
Completely sure they belong.
And maybe that’s why it stands out.
Not because it’s well-timed.
But because it isn’t.
