Finding Peace In The Pause: Morning Reflections From The Beach

DISCLOSURE: THIS POST MAY CONTAIN AFFILIATE LINKS, MEANING I GET A COMMISSION IF YOU DECIDE TO MAKE A PURCHASE THROUGH MY LINKS, AT NO COST TO YOU. READ MY FULL DISCLOSURE.


Thank You for Sharing!

Last updated on November 3rd, 2024 at 11:07 pm

I’m sitting here on the balcony, coffee in hand, overlooking the beach at Gulf Shores. The morning is absolutely stunning. The sun is still low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the water, and the soft sound of the waves rolling onto the shore is rhythmic, soothing. A gentle breeze carries the salty air, and I can see a few early risers walking along the shoreline, their footprints leaving temporary marks in the wet sand. Seagulls circle lazily above, calling out to one another as the world slowly wakes up. It’s the kind of morning that feels like it should lull you into complete relaxation.

But my brain? My brain has other ideas.

I’ve been trying to unwind after the long drive here, to let the calmness of this place seep in, but my thoughts won’t stop buzzing. Even here, surrounded by such beauty, my mind keeps wandering back to book plots, new characters I’d like to explore, and endless marketing ideas. I suppose that’s part of being a writer—your imagination never truly takes a vacation. It’s always finding new threads to pull, new stories to weave, even when you’re supposed to be resting.

I know I should be letting go, allowing myself to enjoy this moment fully. The view alone is enough to make anyone forget about work. The turquoise water stretches out to meet the horizon, gently shifting from deep blues to light greens where the sun hits it. There’s something so peaceful about watching the waves roll in, crashing softly onto the shore, only to retreat and begin the dance all over again.

Silver Bells and Plot Twists Clean Romance Novel Coming Soon Banner

And yet, even as I take it all in, that nagging feeling lingers in the shadows. The feeling that I’m not doing enough, that there’s more I should be accomplishing. Why is it so hard to switch over to vacation mode? My mind knows there has to be balance—that rest is just as important as work—but it’s like I’m wired to keep pushing forward, always reaching for the next goal.

Maybe it’s the pressure to constantly be productive, the way society seems to measure worth by how much we do. Or maybe it’s just the nature of being a creative person, where ideas flow even when you’re supposed to be taking a break. But that feeling—the one that whispers “you’re not enough”—that’s the real beast I’m trying to lay to rest.

As I sit here, watching the waves ebb and flow, I realize that’s why I think I love to write about the slow, laid-back life of small-town living. There’s something comforting in the simplicity of those stories. In a world that’s always rushing forward, small towns seem to offer a different pace, one that allows space for reflection and connection. Maybe it’s because deep down, I crave that peace—the kind that comes from knowing that it’s okay to slow down, to savor the quiet moments.

Small towns remind me that life doesn’t always have to be a race, that sometimes the most meaningful moments are found in the stillness, in the routine of familiar faces and steady rhythms. Writing about those places allows me to escape into a world where the pressure to do more fades away, replaced by the beauty of just being. That’s the kind of life I want to celebrate in my stories—a life where rest isn’t seen as laziness but as an essential part of living well.

I know that I need to be kinder to myself, to allow space for rest without guilt. I’ve accomplished so much already, and sometimes, it’s okay to just be. Sitting here, watching the waves, I’m reminded that life moves in cycles. Just like the ocean, there’s a time to push forward, and there’s a time to pull back and rest.

Today, I’ll try to let go of the need to do more, to be more. I’ll try to soak in the beauty of this place, the soft breeze, the sun warming my skin, happy grandbabies splashing in the water, and remind myself that it’s okay to simply exist in this moment. The world will keep turning, and the stories will still be there when I return.

For now, I’ll let the beach be my guide, and I’ll let the waves carry that feeling of “not enough” far out to sea, where it belongs.

How do you find balance between rest and productivity, and what helps you quiet that inner voice telling you that you’re not doing enough?

cropped Black and White Minimal Monogram Logo 13
Thank You for Sharing!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Close
Latest Blog
Close
Miss Mary Media.
© Copyright 2021 - Present. All rights reserved.
Close