Sit and Soak…

Protecting moments that restore a sense of being fully alive.

A cool change came through overnight, signalling winter is on its way. I say winter, but where we live, it is the best season. Clear blue skies, no humidity and temperatures that attract Southerners in their droves.

We head to a different outdoor coffee shop beside the beach—our Friday coffee ritual, taking advantage of a weekday before the weekend crowds and a week of forecast rain.

There’s a sneaky south-westerly breeze.

We bag sought-after comfy lounges to sit and soak up the warmth. Half in the shade and half in the sun. Under the Pandanus tree, careful not to be directly under the soccer ball-sized seed pods.

The ocean is the main event today. Waves roll in and lap the sand, slowly, rhythmically. There’s a sun glitter, a shimmering blanket of broken mirrors all the way to the horizon. An endless canopy of cerulean blue, the only flaw—wispy clouds just above the horizon, gently being moved north.

One of those days when you don’t want to be anywhere else.

Lots of people who don’t have to be anywhere else on a Friday are enjoying a moment and a coffee in the sunshine. The bike path is behind me at this location. My attention is front and centre on the panoramic ocean view. A few swimmers brave not the water temperature but the breeze on wet skin as they return from their swim. The lone sunbather takes her pretty pink-and-white striped umbrella down to use as a windbreak.

A surfer on a powered keeled board enjoys a fairly flat surf. Wetsuit-clad surfers sit out past the breakers, waiting for a lazy wave. Closer to shore, particularly noisy seagulls and long-billed ibis peck in the sand for food. A toddler chases them.

Noisy building renovation at the surf clubhouse is only a minor interruption.

People come and go. I am glued to my spot.

My legs heat up from the sun beating down on them. Tan lines start to outline the shape of my sandals on my feet.

Batman and Mum sit down beside us. He takes off his cape. I tell him I could be his Robin, but he quickly turns into shy Bruce Wayne.

What draws me to this scene? Sublime natural beauty. Serenity. A magnificent ‘Sit and Soak’ moment.

It’s white space. It’s slow-living. It’s why everyone wants to move here.

And yet, as I sit there, another thought slips in.

It feels almost self-indulgent to allow myself to luxuriate in a morning like this.

To sit for hours with a coffee and nowhere urgent to be.

To watch light shimmer on the water.

To feel the sun warming my legs.

To let time pass without trying to make it productive.

Somewhere along the way, many of us learned to justify our time.

To be useful. To be efficient. To keep moving.

Especially those of us who’ve spent decades managing households, raising children and solving problems.

There is always something that needs doing, which is why it can feel strangely uncomfortable to simply sit and soak. But perhaps this, too, is part of aging well.

Staying fully alive is not only about preserving muscle, bone, and function.

It is also about protecting our capacity to be absorbed by beauty.

To sit without urgency.

To notice what restores us.

To remember that life is more than maintenance.

Staying strong matters.

Staying sharp matters.

But all of it is in service of something larger.

The ability to sit in the sun, watch light shimmer on the water, and feel fully present to the life we have. Moments like this remind us why we want to remain capable in the first place.

Not simply to live longer.

But to stay fully alive.

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Favorite reads this week:

More Kinds of Exercise. Not Just More. by Heather Hausenblas, PhD

Everything that turned out well in my life followed the same design process by Henrik Karlsson

Talking to Old People by Glenn Harlan Reynolds