Crossing Over.

November 12, 2025

As I stand here, somewhere in the space between everything I’ve done and everything that’s about to begin, I keep returning to this image of a rocket completing its last orbit. It’s still circling, steady and familiar, but deep down, it knows it’s close to breaking free. That’s how this moment feels; not like an ending, but a shift in gravity.

Every lesson, every fuckup, every challenge, and every small win from the last few years feels like an orbit I’ve gone through again and again. At times, it felt like I was moving in circles; repeating the same patterns, burning out, overthinking, and rebuilding from scratch. But maybe those circles weren’t wasted. Maybe repetition was just disguised acceleration; each orbit quietly teaching me something, building speed in ways I couldn’t see then. And somewhere along the way, those motions began shaping me for the leap I’m about to take.

I’ve started to notice it in how I work now. The roles I once saw as “helping out” have turned into spaces where I take ownership. Back then, I used to step in cautiously, choosing the safer side of things, keeping the risks small and predictable. But without even realizing it, I’ve begun walking straight into the uncertain parts; the messy, high-stakes ones; and owning them completely. It’s strange how confidence never arrives all at once; it slips in quietly, changing your posture before you even know it’s there.

For me, it revealed itself in small, almost forgettable moments; the night I finished a project calmly instead of spiraling, or the interview where I felt grounded and certain instead of rehearsed and nervous. Even something as simple as sharing my work publicly for the first time, and realizing people actually cared. None of these moments screamed transformation, but together, they whispered it; proof that I was no longer orbiting the same doubts I used to.

And yet, even in this acceleration, fear lingers. It always does. Fear of the unknown, of stepping outside the structures that once kept me steady. Fear of not having enough time to become who I want to be. Fear that I’ll have to figure too much out too fast. But I’m learning that fear isn’t a sign to slow down; it’s the heat that builds when you’re breaking through the atmosphere. It means you’re close.

Graduation, for me, feels like that exact moment; when the air thins, the silence grows, and everything feels heavier and lighter at once. It’s bittersweet, both exciting and a little terrifying, like realizing you’re about to fly without the orbit to guide you anymore. And as I look at what I’m leaving behind; the burnout cycles, the restarts, the overthinking, the small irritations that drained more energy than they deserved; I feel lighter already. Those things have completed their turn. I don’t need to carry them forward.

Because when I look back, I see now that none of it was wasted. Every burnout, every rebound, every uncertain night was quietly refining me, adding to the pressure that would one day push me forward. All of it; the struggle, the progress, the circles; was fuel. And now, I can feel the engines humming.

The orbit is ending. The launch sequence has begun. No more circles, no more hesitation, no more almosts. Just forward.

Here’s to the unknown sky ahead.
Here’s to escape velocity.
Here’s to crossing over.

Shardul Gupta

0 0 votes

Article Rating

Subscribe

Login

Notify of

new follow-up comments new replies to my comments

Label

{} [+]

Name*

Email*

Website

Label

{} [+]

Name*

Email*

Website

0 Comments

Oldest

Newest Most Voted

Inline Feedbacks

View all comments

More from the blog

View more

Inside a Conflexion: Lessons from Mohammad Choonawala’s Let’s Enterprise Journey

An inside look at how the Let’s Enterprise learning model uses Conflexions to strengthen emotional intelligence. This piece…

The Fig Tree Dream

The Fig Tree Dream I’m stressed. Like genuinely stressed. I don’t know who I am anymore or what…

The Curve

I’ve always imagined life as a train journey, the kind that doesn’t stop too often, just keeps moving…