About trust, rhythm and conscious living in a world that is always in a hurry

By Maureen van de Lustgraaf

Sometimes words do not come from long thinking.

They simply appear.

During a walk.
Or while looking out over the sea.

As if something inside wants to be spoken.

That happened to me this morning.

Tropical river landscape with palm trees in Casamance, Senegal — Tropical river landscape with palm trees in the nature of Casamance, Senegal.

Not pushing, but sailing

We live in a world where so much is expected of us.
A world where we keep going and going.
Everything moves fast — and it feels like it must move fast, otherwise it takes too long.

Do you recognize that?

Sometimes I sit on the beach watching the waves.
They come and go calmly and gently.

When the wind rises, the waves grow higher and stronger, rolling toward the shore and crossing the previous line of the coast.

It is the rhythm of the sea.
The rhythm of nature.

Nothing is forced.
Nothing is pushed.

Things simply come and go.

Isn’t it true that people often want too much — and they want it now?

We keep pushing and pushing.
“It has to happen now.”
“I need it now.”

And so we keep forcing things.

But the strange thing is: pushing rarely makes anything arrive faster.

Have we forgotten how to allow things to unfold?

Where did the connection with rhythm go?

The rhythm of nature.
The rhythm of society.
The rhythm within yourself.

Sometimes it feels as if we are all sitting in a high-speed train that keeps pushing forward faster and faster.

Until one moment you suddenly realize:

Slow down.
Trust.
It will be okay.

A phrase my dear mother often said:

“Everything will be alright.”

And yes — I believe that is true.
One hundred percent.

Everything will be alright, even in this world.

Perhaps we have simply forgotten how to observe…
how to let things be.

When you look at what is happening from another perspective, the world can suddenly look very different.

Look at children.

They are one of our most beautiful examples.

For them, every day is a new fresh day.

What will I discover today?

Maybe we could learn to look through those eyes again.
To rediscover life.

Every day.

Not pushing — but sailing.

It feels different, doesn’t it?

Have a beautiful day today.

Why do we push so much?

When you pause for a moment and look at it calmly, it is actually quite remarkable.

As humans we have developed a habit of trying to force life.

We often believe that if we just work harder, think more, plan more, or control everything better, things will move faster or turn out better.

But life does not always work that way.

Sometimes the opposite happens.

The harder you push, the more resistance seems to appear.

The more you try to force something, the further it sometimes seems to move away from you.

And yet we keep doing it.

Not because we want to, but because we have learned to live that way.

We have learned that slowing down is dangerous.
That slowing down means falling behind.
That trusting life might be naive.

But when you look at nature, you see something very different.

Nature does not push

The sea does not hurry.

A sunrise does not come earlier because we are impatient.

A fruit does not ripen faster because we pull on it.

Nature moves in rhythm.

Tides coming and going.
Day and night.
Seasons that change and return.

Batangworo tree in Abene, Senegal with large ancient roots — *The Batangworo tree in Abene – a place where nature, stories and rhythm come together.*

Everything has its own timing.

And perhaps we humans have forgotten that we are part of that rhythm too.

We often try to live as if we stand outside of it.

As if we can accelerate the clock.

As if everything can be manufactured and controlled.

But deep inside we all know that this is not entirely true.

Your own rhythm

Besides the rhythm of nature, there is something else.

Your rhythm.

Your own pace.
Your own intuition.
Your own timing.

But to hear it, you need space.

Space to slow down.
Space to observe.
Space to feel.

And that space is often missing in our daily lives.

We sit in that high-speed train I mentioned earlier.

A train that just keeps going.

Until a moment comes when you suddenly feel:

Wait a moment…

Is this actually my pace?

Or am I just running because everyone else is running?

What children still show us

Perhaps that is why it is so refreshing to watch children.

They do not live from hurry.

Not from productivity.

Not from the idea that everything must lead somewhere.

For a child, a day is simply a new world to explore.

A stone on the ground can already be an adventure.
A wave in the sea can be a wonder.

They watch.
They explore.
They are curious.

Maybe that is something we as adults can slowly remember again.

Not everything needs to be faster.

Not everything needs to be forced.

Sometimes it is enough to simply see what wants to emerge.

From pushing to sailing

I like the image of sailing.

A sailor cannot create the wind.

But the sailor can learn to move with the wind.

They can learn to feel where the current flows.

They can adjust their sails in such a way that they move forward without forcing anything.

That requires something different than pushing.

It requires attention.
Presence.
Trust.

And perhaps also a little courage.

Because trusting life also means that sometimes you do not know exactly how things will unfold.

Why a different environment helps

Sometimes it is difficult to feel a new rhythm while you remain in the middle of your everyday environment.

The same schedule.
The same stimuli.
The same expectations.

That is why it can be so powerful to literally step out of that environment for a while.

To give yourself a place where the tempo is different.

Where nature becomes tangible again.
Where simplicity creates space for reflection.

A place where you can listen again.

Not to everything you have to do.

But to what moves inside you.

Why we create our retreats this way

That is exactly why we design our retreats in Senegal the way we do.

Not to make people do even more.

But to create space.

Space for silence.
For conversations that truly matter.
For nature.
For a different rhythm of living.

In Senegal — close to the ocean, under the African sun, surrounded by a culture that is still deeply connected to community and nature — something special often happens.

People begin to feel again.

They slow down.
They see differently.

And sometimes they remember something they already knew, but had lost somewhere along the way:

That life does not always need to be pushed.

Sometimes you simply learn to sail.

Maybe that is exactly what happens when you step out of the rhythm of everyday life and start listening again to the rhythm of nature.

Sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean near Abene, Senegal with traditional fishing boats on the horizon — Sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean near Abene, Senegal, with fishing boats on the horizon.