A Week in Los Angeles, Gliding Without Resistance

I've been staying over a week now in a Los Angeles hotel, a trip that wasn't anywhere near my plans.

Outside my window, planes move left and right, carrying busy humans, each a separate data point in life's vast simulation database, pulsing with their own desires, fears, problems, and stories.

Watching planes line up in a clear sky, one after another, I feel this overwhelm, sensing every person as a unique record, each with their own history.

But it's balanced by the beauty of heavy metal objects gliding so gracefully across the sky and runways.

That view is a feature, a gift for anyone who pauses to soak it in.

It all started with a sudden pull of energy, some call it intuition.

I was set to head back to Austin from San Diego, tickets ready, bags packed, meetings scheduled.

Then, something tugged at me. I canceled everything, booked a shuttle, and arrived in Los Angeles the next day.

I arrived with a couple heavy suitcases, a backpack pulling me back, and not the best state of mind.

But stepping into the hotel was like a soft glide. From the moment of arrival to entering my room, experiencing small details subconsciously, taking a shower, and finally laying my head on the pillow, it was seamless.

Frictionless.

Friction shows up everywhere.

In people, it is when their words and actions do not match, messing up our sense of order.

In nature, it is like rocks blocking a river's smooth flow.

In fashion, it is a mismatched belt or clashing colors that stand out in a bad way, unlike a perfect outfit where every piece blends so well you can hardly remember what it consisted of because you were in awe.

In hotels, friction is anything that pulls you away from your purpose, like spotty wifi or a staff member that forgot he worked in hospitality.

This hotel got it right.

Everything, from intuitive light placements to comfy beds to friendly staff worked together smoothly, letting me move through the space and focus on what mattered most.

I ran back the whole experience in my mind, step by step, and not one point had friction.

The towel hooks were right where they should be. The desk chair was beautiful and comfortable. The interior details came together without overwhelming my eyes. Water bottles I forgot I needed sat waiting on the table. Perfect bedding. Light switches were right there, no shoulder-twisting reach. Some nice extras I didn't expect. Comfortable sofa with an ottoman in the room, which I use as a workstation from time to time.

All these details created a seamless flow, a guest experience that felt like gliding through a pleasant breeze with beautiful sceneries.

Not once was I confused, searching for something, or stuck. It was as if the space itself was a calm sky, guiding me effortlessly, no turbulence to break the flow.

This stay makes me want to linger in our places more, to notice what we might have missed.

Those small, tiny things that seem insignificant in the grand scale but remove the bumps when you're gliding. We've done it before, spotting that one friction point, like a misplaced chair that's not quite right, and fixing it to make the flow smoother.

Imagine if we could design our spaces like a plane soaring through clear skies, where every moment glides without turbulence, where every detail aligns to create ease and beauty.

Ease and beauty...