Underwater Cities Don’t Have Traffic Jams

I once read a silly-sounding line in a science magazine:

“Underwater cities don’t have traffic jams.”

It was part of a speculative piece about futuristic civilizations—utopias under the sea with clear domes, no air pollution, and no honking horns. At the time, I laughed. But strangely, that line stuck with me.

Weeks later, sitting in the middle of bumper-to-bumper traffic, hot coffee sloshing onto my shirt as I slammed the brakes for the hundredth time, I thought of it again.

No traffic jams underwater.

And suddenly, it didn’t sound so silly. It sounded like peace.

The Daily Jam

Let me tell you what a typical morning used to look like for me.

Wake up late. Skip breakfast. Jump in the car, already anxious. Navigate a sea of red brake lights, honking horns, and people more stressed out than I was. By the time I reached the office, I hadn’t spoken a kind word or taken a deep breath.

Traffic, for me, became a symbol of life gone sideways. I don’t just mean literal traffic — I mean the chaos. The overload. The noise. The constant rush. We’re all in a hurry, but to what end?

That day in traffic, I imagined what it would be like to live somewhere where things moved slower. More intentionally. I pictured an underwater city, like the one from the article. Quiet. Serene. No rush-hour madness. No frantic energy. Just stillness, and the gentle pulse of life moving at a natural rhythm.

The Shift

I didn’t pack up and move to the bottom of the ocean, obviously. But I did start making some changes.

The first was internal: I stopped glorifying busy.

You know the type. “How are you?”

“Oh, so busy. You know how it is.”

It’s practically a badge of honor in our culture.

But what if we stopped measuring our worth by our calendar’s chaos?

What if happiness wasn’t hidden in the grind, but in the stillness?

I started small. Waking up earlier. Making my own coffee instead of grabbing it in a frenzy. Taking the longer scenic route to work — the one with trees, not traffic lights. Saying no to things that didn't matter. Logging off my email after dinner. Taking actual lunch breaks.

The less “traffic” I allowed into my life, the more space I had to actually feel things. Joy. Gratitude. Even boredom — the good kind that sparks creativity.

What I Learned from Imagining Life Underwater

The underwater city became my metaphor for peace — for a life designed with intention rather than default. In my mind, it was a place where:

No one raced to be first — because everyone had enough time.

Noise was replaced with calm, not silence but gentle quiet.

Progress didn’t mean stress — it meant harmony.

People moved in sync with the world around them.

I know, I know — it’s all fantasy. But isn’t every great change born from imagination?

We wait for the world to change before we change ourselves. But maybe it works the other way around.

Stillness in a Busy World

It wasn’t just about traffic. It was about slowing down inside.

Listening to my breath. Reconnecting with my own voice. Realizing I didn’t need to keep up with the chaos to live a full life.

And the more I lived that way, the more I noticed the ripple effect.

I was kinder to the barista. More patient with my family. I smiled more. I worried less. I stopped measuring my day by what I did and started valuing how I felt.

Turns out, when you leave the “traffic” behind — mentally, emotionally, spiritually — you get to a clearer version of yourself. One not clouded by comparison, urgency, or performance. Just...you.

The Moral:

Sometimes, you have to imagine a world without traffic jams to realize how jammed your life has become.

And once you do, you get to choose stillness. You get to build a life that flows instead of crashes.

You don’t need to move underwater. But maybe you need to breathe like you did.

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Thank you for reading...

Regards: Fazal Hadi