There’s a kind of propulsion that only newness gives you. It’s hard to synthesize. Today, Singapore did that to me—kicked me into motion and kept me there.

arrival → work → wander

4:30 a.m. — Landed in Singapore after an 18-hour flight, checked into the hotel, grabbed a bonus stretch of sleep.

9:00 a.m. → noon — Full tilt. Prepping for an important on-site meeting, doing actual work, and figuring out the basics: where I am, what’s around me, how the city fits together. The humidity is no joke—I changed from shorts to jeans and a long sleeve for the meeting, then back to shorts later, and still ended up sweating on both ends.

Midday — On-site planning session with a large company here; I’ll be embedded with their engineering teams this week. Oddly energizing.

Afternoon — Drifted through HarbourFront Centre, then VivoCity. Out by the waterfront, the view stopped me: Sentosa across the water and a sky laced with cable cars. New mission: ride one.

Cable car → Sentosa — Floated over, wandered Imbiah Lookout, walked Siloso Beach, skirted the entrance of Universal Studios Singapore, and spent time under those dramatic trellis-like structures. Poked through a mall and found Iris Gallery (they photograph your eyes and turn them into art—very cool).

Evening — Mostly unfed and running on adrenaline, I camped at Starbucks to take a work call.

Night — Dinner at SOI Social (red Thai curry with beef—perfect). First time using Grab to get back. Hotel. Shower. Now, this.

the momentum of new

Why write all this? Because I felt that drag-free acceleration new places give you. The map becomes a puzzle. The city becomes a story. I found myself tracing ferry lines on Google Maps—Batam, Bintan, the Southern Islands—and tugging on threads of curiosity.

Back home in California, there’s arguably more to explore. And yet, we don’t. Familiarity numbs initiative. Routines become grooves in the dirt: water flows where it’s flowed before. Social habits harden around us. Not permanent—just the path of least resistance.

Travel snaps that. Newness forces you to reconsider how you move, what you eat, which direction is “toward.” It creates momentum you can ride—through work, fatigue, uncertainty. I’ve been working a lot (probably more than I should), but being here converts effort into energy. That exchange rate is wild.

takeaway

If you’re stuck, change the environment before you change the goal. Let novelty do some of the lifting. Ride the momentum while it’s there. Let it carry you into the hard stuff—and through it.