I used to travel by sailboat. Trying to sail in a dead flat calm is a lot of just being. I loved being in the middle of nowhere just hanging out on the boat. Or just sailing for an hour or two every day to get to and explore an island that was pretty much like the previous island - except that I could always fine some little thing that was different or made it special.
This really slowed me down in the best way. The way you frame “just being” not as escape but as a practice—walking, watching, knitting, floating—feels honest and lived-in. The kayak moment near the border was perfect: total stillness, then the helicopter reminding you where you are. That tension between presence and intrusion feels exactly like real life. Thank you for the quiet permission to notice more and do less.
I can relate to this! Even the knitting bit :). No kayak for me, though, but walking or just sitting somewhere quietly also has the same effect on me. I also find that just walking in a city without a set destination helps us discover more, notice things we would otherwise overlook. Great post!
JL, this whole piece is such a permission slip to slow down in a world that keeps nudging us to optimize every minute. Your seven ways to just be feel like a soft reset button — the kind slow travelers quietly rely on but rarely articulate.
We’ve found the same thing in our month-by-month rhythm: the best moments aren’t the ones we planned, they’re the ones that happen when we stop moving long enough to actually notice where we are. A bench. A bakery. A random street corner where Nigel and I end up people-watching far longer than intended.
Your kayak “water hammock” made me laugh — I have a whole catalog of those tiny flashes of presence scribbled in my notes from places all over the world. And floating close to the US border? That is peak “just be… but maybe not too long.”
Love this reminder that travel isn’t just about seeing more, it’s about seeing deeper. You captured that beautifully....
Thank you Kelly. Another great thing that comes from spending time people-watching on a bench is that the delay often puts you in exactly the right place to see something you had no idea was about to happen. This has happened to us so many times.
For example, one time we were in the south of France, and we got waylaid looking at something -- and then, after about 30 minutes, we heard music getting closer. We discovered a train full of community bands that would get off at each station and parade through the town. They were dressed up in wild costumes. We spent an hour listening and enjoying the festival atmosphere. We came so close to missing it.
Oh I love this so much — the way travel rewards the unplanned pause. Those little “delays” end up being the doorway to the best stories. A train full of community bands in wild costumes? That’s the kind of moment you can’t engineer no matter how hard you try.
It’s why Nigel and I always say that wandering is a strategy — the slow minutes are often what put you in the right place at the right time.
I love and relate to this so much JL. I take time to "just be" every morning for about 40 minutes. Grab my English Breakfast tea and find a place alone to sit and think and meditate and pray and watch the world go by, wherever in the world we happen to be in our nomadic travels. Thanks for sharing this.
I love this. I find, in these quiet moments, that often things just pop into my mind; solutions, creative ideas, epiphanies. My brain just needs the quiet.
I’m so pleased that this has caught your imagination. I love that Substack is a place we can find the kernel of an idea that you can add to your own way of living. A little spark.
I love the idea of watching wildlife! The best part is that once you spot your first critter, more of them reveal themselves to you x
That is so true. Once you train yourself to look carefully, you see animals everywhere.
in this Nomad Life, we have Being months and Doing months. The former; relaxing, writing, drawing The latter; museums, tourist sites, tours.
That is a very interesting idea. I love the idea of a Being month.
I used to travel by sailboat. Trying to sail in a dead flat calm is a lot of just being. I loved being in the middle of nowhere just hanging out on the boat. Or just sailing for an hour or two every day to get to and explore an island that was pretty much like the previous island - except that I could always fine some little thing that was different or made it special.
That is the perfect ‘just being’.
This really slowed me down in the best way. The way you frame “just being” not as escape but as a practice—walking, watching, knitting, floating—feels honest and lived-in. The kayak moment near the border was perfect: total stillness, then the helicopter reminding you where you are. That tension between presence and intrusion feels exactly like real life. Thank you for the quiet permission to notice more and do less.
Thank you Dave. I love that this spoke to you.
I can relate to this! Even the knitting bit :). No kayak for me, though, but walking or just sitting somewhere quietly also has the same effect on me. I also find that just walking in a city without a set destination helps us discover more, notice things we would otherwise overlook. Great post!
Thank you! I’m so glad you enjoyed it.
JL, this whole piece is such a permission slip to slow down in a world that keeps nudging us to optimize every minute. Your seven ways to just be feel like a soft reset button — the kind slow travelers quietly rely on but rarely articulate.
We’ve found the same thing in our month-by-month rhythm: the best moments aren’t the ones we planned, they’re the ones that happen when we stop moving long enough to actually notice where we are. A bench. A bakery. A random street corner where Nigel and I end up people-watching far longer than intended.
Your kayak “water hammock” made me laugh — I have a whole catalog of those tiny flashes of presence scribbled in my notes from places all over the world. And floating close to the US border? That is peak “just be… but maybe not too long.”
Love this reminder that travel isn’t just about seeing more, it’s about seeing deeper. You captured that beautifully....
💛 Kelly
Thank you Kelly. Another great thing that comes from spending time people-watching on a bench is that the delay often puts you in exactly the right place to see something you had no idea was about to happen. This has happened to us so many times.
For example, one time we were in the south of France, and we got waylaid looking at something -- and then, after about 30 minutes, we heard music getting closer. We discovered a train full of community bands that would get off at each station and parade through the town. They were dressed up in wild costumes. We spent an hour listening and enjoying the festival atmosphere. We came so close to missing it.
Oh I love this so much — the way travel rewards the unplanned pause. Those little “delays” end up being the doorway to the best stories. A train full of community bands in wild costumes? That’s the kind of moment you can’t engineer no matter how hard you try.
It’s why Nigel and I always say that wandering is a strategy — the slow minutes are often what put you in the right place at the right time.
– Kelly
I love and relate to this so much JL. I take time to "just be" every morning for about 40 minutes. Grab my English Breakfast tea and find a place alone to sit and think and meditate and pray and watch the world go by, wherever in the world we happen to be in our nomadic travels. Thanks for sharing this.
I love this. I find, in these quiet moments, that often things just pop into my mind; solutions, creative ideas, epiphanies. My brain just needs the quiet.
Oh, what wonderful ideas. Some of which I've done and some of which I'd like to. Thanks for this, JL:)
I’m so pleased that this has caught your imagination. I love that Substack is a place we can find the kernel of an idea that you can add to your own way of living. A little spark.