It’s New Year’s Day, 2026. I am sitting on a cold, mist-soaked bench on a gray and rainy day on the silent beach of Goldwater Lake. A duck is sitting motionless in the center of the water. The mountain valley usually visible from here is draped in a sleepy white blanket of fog. I can see my breath, and it reminds me to put on my gloves. It was an impulse decision. It was my waking thought after five and a half hours of sleep. It was the persistent idea that nagged at me the entirety of my morning yoga practice. It was the thought that convinced me breakfast could wait until late morning: I really wanted my first writing of the new year to be beside a lake. So, I’m sitting here beside a lake on a foggy Thursday morning contemplating life exactly like the duck in the middle of the lake.
I want one experience each day that reminds me I am alive. It doesn’t have to be extravagant, life-affirming, or near-death to be an “experience.” I want to keep promises broken to my younger self and create memories that become stories. Something the senses can enjoy. Something that brings a noticeable feeling of peace. Something that makes me understand more. This misty morning writing session by Goldwater Lake is my January-1 moment. Normally, I would have taken a walk along the trail around the lake or found a spot among the trees to overlook the vista. Today, I am sitting front-and-center on a cold, wet, adirondack bench. The last time I walked these shores it was Spring, and I realized I needed this reminder to slow down and take a moment to breathe and enjoy the quiet.
The hardest thing for me is making my brain slow down. No, it’s not the daily coffee. The coffee actually helps me keep up. In a ridiculously busy and info-saturated world of technology, drama, and breaking news, we need an escape to enjoy the quiet, to take time to focus on focusing. Is it any wonder that people take up hiking as a way to walk away from the noise and enjoy nature, even for just a moment? That has to be indicative of something.
“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” – Henry David Thoreau, Walden (1854)
I need this moment to calm my racing mind, to breathe. The bees buzzing through my head are quiet for once, and I get five seconds without extra input. Just this moment. That’s my focus for this year, slowing down and enjoying each experience. That includes waking up a little earlier to experience more of the day.
Living in survival-mode made my brain as foggy as this lake and its pine laden hills. The past few years have been more a furious blur of events and countdowns rather than experiencing the universe’s magic around me. It’s the difference between enjoying a nice meal and blending a nice meal into a smoothie for efficiency. The mind learns and grows using all five of our innate senses, and busy minds need a moment to enjoy the sensations happening right now, to bask in the fullness of this moment. Sometimes, that requires removing yourself from all the places your mind inhabits, and focus on focusing.
Take your moment. Breathe, observe, notice, listen, bask, enjoy.
Let’s Coffee Chat: What helps you slow down and relax more? I’d love to hear — leave a comment or come back anytime.
~Miss Marie — Traveling Coffee Girl
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