We’re sitting at our beachside café, coffee in front of us, watching the morning pass. People move through in that familiar rhythm—walkers, cyclists, the occasional runner. It’s a scene I know well. I’ve watched it unfold many times. Nothing to notice today.
And yet, something feels off.
I find myself thinking:
There’s something wrong with this scene.
It’s not a strong reaction. Just a quiet sense that something doesn’t quite fit. It takes a moment to register. Nothing obvious. No disruption, no noise. Just a slight misalignment I can’t quite place.
Then it lands.
It’s e-bikes.
They move differently. Faster, yes—but not just faster. Detached, somehow. The effort doesn’t match the motion. The rhythm is different. I watch a few glide past, barely turning the pedals. Another rider comes through faster than expected, weaving between walkers.
And my mind starts to fill in the gap.
Not human-powered.
Speed without effort.
I’d felt it in my body before I could name it.
A slight tightening.
A leaning forward.
A small shift, but it changed the way I viewed the scene.
What was open had narrowed slightly.
I realised I was no longer just watching. I was tracking randomity. Who’s moving through. How fast. Where they’ll go next. What was passing became something to anticipate.
And then, just as quietly, something eased. Not because I decided to change it. Not because I’d worked anything out. I simply stopped holding it so tightly. The need to make sense of it dropped away, almost on its own.
And I was back to watching. The same riders passing through. But now I noticed different things. The way someone sits upright, relaxed. Another rider a little tentative, still finding their balance. A couple talking as they move, unhurried despite the speed.
Not something to agree with or resist. Just a mix of people moving through the same shared space in different ways.
And the scene felt… lighter.
It felt like a different kind of attention.
One that stays a little longer. It didn’t tighten the moment. It let it open.
Long enough for more of the scene to show itself.
The coffee was still warm. The morning continued around us. The same path. The same mix of walkers and riders. But something had shifted in how I was sitting here. Less inclined to decide. More willing to be present.
Instead of thinking: I have to do something about this
I just found myself thinking: isn’t that interesting