In day-to-day life, I find it so easy to get caught up in the next thing to do, my mind on high alert focusing on the next thing to do, scanning my experience for things that need to be resolved.

It feels impossible to pull myself away from that list in the moment, but carving out deliberate time to ‘not do’ and seeing what comes out of that space is something I know also holds value.

That said, I find it hard to actually bring myself to shift into that mode. I find that the space or environment that I’m in influences how easy it is to enter that state. Expansive, wide-open spaces, immersed in nature, away from the hustle and bustle of civilisation help me ease into stillness and tune inwards, surrendering fully to the invitation into a different way of being. A way of being is exactly that: a way of being, not of doing.

I have a love-hate relationship with this kind of deliberate lack of stimulus. As someone with a lot of energy, choosing to slow down is something I’ve not always found easy. It’s something I don’t always choose but know is good for me.

It’s a big reason why the idea of being at sea for over two weeks used to scare me - I had no idea how my mind would react to so little going on.

I had never truly been in a situation like that. One where I couldn’t just walk away. There’s no way out, the only way is through. (I actually downloaded a bunch of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy books before the Atlantic crossing just in case I started to lose it).

What ended up happening during those 17 days crossing the Atlantic was more magical than I could’ve expected. Things slowed down and I didn’t go crazy. All that time and open space simply allowed me to drop into a new rhythm: to the natural rhythm of the ocean, of the moon cycle, of the boat making its way through the water at a slow and steady 5 knots.

That Atlantic passage was a gift. A retreat away from a faster paced life and a reset that I’m grateful to have said yes to. It was an edge for me, stepping into the unknown, but paradoxically slowing down allowed me to experience more.

Today, I find myself seeking out other opportunities to widen my aperture on life. It’s key for connecting back to my creativity, understanding my experience and coming to know myself better.

So here’s to normalising the act of carving out moments of simplicity for ourselves, where less becomes more.