Beli logs our food recs, Goodreads counts our books, Oura and Whoop obsess over health metrics, Strava times our runs and calorie trackers record our meals. There’s an inevitable dopamine hit in seeing the graphs climb upward, a sense of control in the accumulation of data points. It suggests we might have misplaced our sense of value, trading presence and meaning for the empty comfort of accumulation. But what if the moments that make life worth living refuse to fit into charts or streaks at all? The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.