I was sitting on my balcony this morning, a cup of hot chai in my hands, letting the week begin at its own pace.

The sun came up quietly. But what grabbed my attention wasn’t the sky or the horizon. It was the way the rising sun caught the metal railing in front of me. A surface I see every day. Ordinary. Functional. And yet, for a few minutes, it held the light in a way that made me pause.

There was nothing dramatic about it. The reflection appeared, stayed for a bit, and then moved on. But I stayed where I was. Watching it change. Aware of how easily this moment could have slipped by if I’d been in a hurry or already lost in the day.

It made me think about how often that happens. How we keep looking ahead for something remarkable, while missing the subtle magic unfolding right beside us.

The chai grew cooler. The light faded. The day carried on.

And it was a quiet reminder that much of what shapes our decisions, our direction, even our leadership, doesn’t arrive through big moments or loud signals. It shows up quietly, in ordinary settings, asking for attention rather than action. What we notice, and what we overlook, often makes all the difference.