High above the Atlantic, at 30,000 feet, an enormous Airbus A380 is gliding steadily through the sky. Its speed is respectable—around 800 km/h—but there’s nothing dramatic about its flight. Calm, stable, ordinary pressurised cabin, passengers perhaps reading, sipping coffee, maybe snoozing. Then, out of nowhere, a sleek Eurofighter jet appears.
The jet slices through the skies with unmistakable power. It breaks the sound barrier, punches upward, rolls over, dives almost to the ocean’s surface, and then rockets back up in a breath-catching climb. The show is loud, fast, overwhelming. The jet pilot radios back: “Airbus, boring flight, isn’t it? Now look at this!” And truly, what follows is a display of acrobatics almost cinematic in scope.
After all that spectacle, after diving and climbing, looping and roaring, the jet finally flies level next to the Airbus and—chest puffed up, heart racing—asks: “Well, did you enjoy that?”
But what comes next defies expectations. Because the Airbus pilot’s reply isn’t a competitor’s retort about matching speed. Instead, the response is understated, even peaceful:
“Very impressive,” says the Airbus pilot, “but watch this…”
The jet pilot watches, confused and alert. For several minutes—fifteen, in fact—nothing happens. The Airbus continues straight, steady. Calm. Unchanging speed, unflappable in its course.
And finally, the Airbus pilot radios through: “Well, how was that?”
Silence, tension, curiosity.
The jet pilot, still caught in the adrenalin of his own show-manship, asks: “What did you do?”
The answer comes with a chuckle: the big plane simply kept going. Its pilot stood up, stretched. Walked to the back of the aircraft to use the washroom. Got a cup of coffee. Ate a chocolate fudge pastry.
A small moment. A normal human moment. In the middle of a flight crossing an ocean. But it carries weight.
More Than Speed
On the surface, this is a playful anecdote: a boast-y jet, an unruffled airliner. But under the humor lies a deeper truth—a reminder that speed, flash, extreme feats… they can exhilarate. They can surprise, impress. But often, what we admire most isn’t the noise or the thrill, but the peace, the steadiness, the comfort of being able to just be.
When we’re younger—sometimes we chase speed. We chase intensity. We want roller-coaster moments, to feel the rush. But with time comes perspective. With time, we sometimes realise that what really matters is not how fast we go, but how steadily we cruise. Not how dramatic life can be, but how meaningful the small, unremarkable moments become: a warm drink, a simple conversation, a quiet stretch, the pleasure of being present.
Because it’s in those moments that life doesn’t just feel like a spectacle—it feels like something worth holding.
Slower, Older, and Smarter
That’s the lesson here: S.O.S.—Slower, Older, Smarter. As years advance, the tensions between what we once thought mattered (speed, flashes, spectacle) and what actually brings satisfaction (peace, consistency, small joys) shift. The A380’s pilot isn’t mocking the jet pilot—to mock would suggest bitterness—but simply illustrating that there’s power in serenity. That being unhurried, being grounded, being true to what calms the soul can outshine even the flashiest display.
So maybe today, instead of chasing something new and loud, there’s value in slowing down. Looking back. Stretching. Sipping. Walking. Resting. Letting life catch up, instead of running ahead.
To every senior friend, and really, to anyone who’s had enough high-speed rides: isn’t it time you just enjoyed the rest of the trip?