I’ve always regarded myself as someone who ‘does’ things.

Childcare, running a home and all that entails, and a valued member of wherever I have worked.

It was ingrained in me by my parents who got it from their parents. Strive to achieve, work your way up, be successful, set some goals. It is seen as a measure of success; the house, the car, the material things we own.

All well and good. There is absolutely nothing wrong in wanting to achieve these things.

However, what happens when you don’t actually need to be a Human Doing any longer?

The kids have moved on with their own lives, Other Half and I are retired.

We moved to the Island, we have become Human Beings.

The trouble is, I can’t find the off switch from my Before Island existence!

I’m constantly looking for things to do, be it housework, shopping, writing or whatever.

I’ve been conditioned to regard time spent not engaged in some type of work, as wasted; but by searching for things to do, I am missing out on the greatest gift of all; the action of just being.

Recently, my perception of my personal time, underwent a sea change.

A nighttime drive along Military Road, after a meal out. A sliver of moon hung over the water, the sky was clear, and it was so, so quiet.

Rather than speeding home, I took time out to stop and just watch. Nothing more.

Just to enjoy the magnificent view over Compton Bay, devoid of its usual walkers and water sports enthusiasts.

I resumed my homeward journey at a more sedate speed, feeling strangely calm.

Unable to sleep this week, (that busy mind refusing to shut up), I eventually got up about 2am and ventured into the garden. I become aware of the sheer beauty of the night sky.

As well as a myriad of stars, I saw a number of shooting stars, courtesy of the passing Perseid Meteor Shower.

Sitting watching this spectacle, I noticed my breathing had slowed to a deep regular pace. I felt both rested and entertained. Just me and the universe.

This is the beauty of living here, away from the bustling Greater London area of my past.

Those moments of sheer quiet and beauty, watching the night sky, walking through the forests or sitting on the beach just watching the sea.

The price of such awareness is undoing years of learned behaviour.

Realising and accepting it is perfectly OK to sit and read a book. To attempt to paint or crochet. To sit in the garden and just watch the bees and butterflies. To let go of the guilt and the secret fear of being selfish because I do my own thing.

I am learning to be a Human Being.

It may take some time, but I realise I am extremely privileged to be in this position, and for that reason, I owe it to myself to embrace the experience.