When am I most happy?

I’m most happy when I’m at the beach, in the warm sun, and in the ocean. It’s that simple.

The sun hits my skin, the air smells like salt, and everything in my head quiets down. No noise, no pressure, no need to be anywhere else. The ocean has a way of putting things back in their proper place. Problems shrink. Thoughts slow. Breathing feels deeper, more natural.

Out there, time works differently. I’m not measuring hours or checking anything. I’m floating, walking the shoreline, letting the waves do what they’ve always done long before I showed up. There’s comfort in that—knowing the world keeps moving just fine without me trying to manage it.

The beach doesn’t ask anything from me. I don’t need to fix, build, plan, or explain. I can just exist. For someone who’s spent a lifetime solving problems and carrying responsibility, that kind of peace is rare.

That’s where I reset. That’s where I feel grounded. That’s where I remember what matters and what doesn’t.

That’s when I’m most happy.