<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><channel><title>March on The Field Blog</title><link>https://thefield.blog/essays/2025/03/</link><description>Recent content in March on The Field Blog</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-in</language><lastBuildDate>Sun, 23 Mar 2025 10:00:00 +0530</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://thefield.blog/essays/2025/03/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The comfort of a postponed problem</title><link>https://thefield.blog/essays/the-comfort-of-a-postponed-problem/</link><pubDate>Sun, 23 Mar 2025 10:00:00 +0530</pubDate><guid>https://thefield.blog/essays/the-comfort-of-a-postponed-problem/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;There are always big and scary things on the horizon that I do not want to deal with, but you should not be shocked when I say I am really good at that. Like, award-winningly good. And sometimes, it just feels so comfy, like pulling a warm blanket over my head on a chilly winter morning.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Deep down, I know that the thing is not going to magically disappear. It definitely is not going to fix itself, either. Yet, I push it down, and there is this lovely sense of peace for a little while. When the time is right, I will face what I need to face. The world will not end if I take an extra day (or month) to figure things out.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The weight of an unspoken thank you</title><link>https://thefield.blog/essays/the-weight-of-an-unspoken-thank-you/</link><pubDate>Mon, 17 Mar 2025 10:00:00 +0530</pubDate><guid>https://thefield.blog/essays/the-weight-of-an-unspoken-thank-you/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;My head says, “Hey, you should really say thank you for that.” And then… I do not. Soon enough, the moment passes, and now it will be awkward to even say it. And this count of unspoken thank-yous keeps growing, outnumbering the ones I have actually said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;When someone goes out of their way to help me with something, it is a big deal for me—sometimes even life-changing. But they do not even know how much it means because I have not properly thanked them. And every now and then, that little memory pops up, and I feel the weight of regret. Not a huge, earth-shattering sadness, but a quiet one that lingers longer than expected.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The friendships that fade without a fight</title><link>https://thefield.blog/essays/the-friendships-that-fade-without-a-fight/</link><pubDate>Sun, 09 Mar 2025 10:00:00 +0530</pubDate><guid>https://thefield.blog/essays/the-friendships-that-fade-without-a-fight/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Some friendships end without fireworks, and there are no big dramatic showdowns. Just… fading. Like turning down the volume on a song so slowly that you barely notice it going quiet until it is almost silent.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You are close, for a while, really close. Sharing jokes, secrets, and late-night talks that feel like they hold all the answers to the universe (or at least, to our world and its problems).&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>