Someone Far Away
Bring a far-away face to mind and wish them well.
Someone Far Away is one of the 108 practices in 108 Moments. It is a mindfulness practice you do with your eyes open, in the middle of an ordinary day. There is nothing to sit down for. You carry one line with you, and each time you catch the moment it describes, that counts.
How to try it today
- Read the line once in the morning: Bring a far-away face to mind and wish them well.
- Go about your day. When you catch it happening, that is one moment.
- Count it. Move a bead, or tap once in the app.
- Aim for eighteen moments. Fewer still counts, and a missed day is not a failure.
How to practice Someone Far Away
What to look for
An old friend two time zones over. Family in another city. Someone you've lost touch with and still think about. The catch is the wish sent at distance — "hope things are good, right now, wherever you are" — with nothing attached. The common miss is converting it into an obligation: *I should really text them.* Maybe so, but that's a different thing. The wish is complete by itself; the text stays optional.
Why it works
Distance is where goodwill usually goes quiet — out of sight, out of practice — so this catch reclaims territory the others can't reach. It also proves something about the move: it needs no feedback. No reply, no smile, no delivery confirmation, and it still does its work, because the work was always local. People report these as some of the warmest catches in the family — a connection consulted, found intact, and enjoyed for a moment, with no task created.
Where you might catch it
Checking the weather app
You open the weather app and see a city where someone you know lives. Maybe your sister in Denver, or a college roommate in Chicago. Picture their face for a second. Send a plain wish: hope it's a good day there. Then close the app. That small pause is the catch.
Scrolling past an old photo
A photo pops up from years ago. There's a friend you haven't talked to since the move. Notice the tug to message them, and set it down for now. Just wish them well, wherever they are this morning. Hope you're good. That's the whole thing. Keep scrolling.
Waiting for the kettle
The kettle takes a minute. Use it to think of your mom, or a grandparent, two time zones away. Their day runs on a different clock. Picture them at their own kitchen table. Wish them an easy day. No call to plan, no note to write. Just the wish, sent while the water heats.
Driving past a familiar place
On the commute you pass the diner where you used to meet an old coworker. They moved across the country years ago. Let their face come up. Wish them well, right now, wherever they are. You don't need to know how they're doing. The wish works without the update.
Hearing a certain song
A song comes on in the grocery store. It's the one your friend from high school played constantly. You haven't spoken in ten years. Notice the small warm feeling as their face appears. Send them a quiet good wish from the cereal aisle. Hope life is kind to you. Then grab the oats.
Kids at breakfast
The kids are at breakfast, and one asks about a cousin who lives far away. Their face comes to mind, and so does your aunt's. Before answering, wish them both a good morning in their own house. It takes a breath. Then hand over the lunchbox and get everyone out the door.
If it isn't clicking
It turns into a to-do list
You picture an old friend and instantly think you should text them. Now it's a chore. Notice that shift when it happens. The text can wait, happen later, or never happen. Come back to the plain wish first. Hope you're well. Let that be finished on its own.
Nobody far away comes to mind
Sometimes the mind goes blank when you look for a distant face. Start with a place instead. Think of a city you've lived in, or where family lives. Faces tend to follow. Your phone's contact list works too. Scroll a little and stop at the first name that brings a small smile.
It feels pointless if they never know
The wish doesn't reach them, so it can feel like nothing happened. Check what changed on your end instead. Maybe your shoulders dropped. Maybe you felt a little closer to someone you miss. That's the point. The catch doesn't need a reply or a read receipt to count.
Six levels deep
This page covers the first level. In the app, Someone Far Away goes six levels deep, with its own line at each one. The move stays the same. Only where you point it changes.
- NoticeJust catch it. Nothing else. There is no wrong answer.
- RelateCatch it. Then notice how you took it.
- Turn TowardPoint it at the hard stuff on purpose.
- SteadyDo it on bad days too. Tired days. Busy days.
- WidenPoint it wider. Strangers. Crowds. People you avoid.
- RadiateSpot a chance to pass it on. Taking it is up to you.
Questions
What if thinking of someone far away brings up sadness?
That happens, especially with people you miss. Notice the sadness without arguing with it. Then try the wish anyway, even a small one. If it feels too heavy today, pick someone easier, like a friendly old neighbor. The practice works with any distant face, not only the closest ones.
Can you wish someone well if you've lost touch with them?
Yes. Losing touch doesn't erase goodwill. Picture them as you last knew them and wish them a good day, wherever they are now. You don't need current news. You don't need to reconnect. The wish is complete the moment you send it, even across years of silence.
Is it okay to wish well someone you had a falling-out with?
Yes, if it feels honest. You aren't excusing anything or reopening the door. You're just hoping their day goes okay, from a distance. If the wish won't come, that's fine. Pick someone else for now and come back another day.
How long does Someone Far Away take?
Each catch takes a second or two. You do not set time aside. The practice runs in the background of whatever you are already doing, and you count the moments you catch.
Is this meditation?
Not the sit-down kind. It is informal mindfulness: paying attention on purpose during ordinary moments, with your eyes open and your day still moving.
Do I need the necklace?
No. The app keeps count for you. The necklace is an optional way to keep count with your hands: eighteen beads, two strands of nine.