There’s something about the way the sky changes over water that makes everything else soften.
Last night, after the Melbourne Motor Show, I found myself doing something quite simple. No agenda. No structured reflection. No “what’s next” thinking.
Just sitting. Watching. Breathing it in.
The city was shifting from dusk into night. The skyline slowly lit up. Reflections stretched across the water, moving gently with each ripple. Boats sat quietly in the marina. The kind of moment that doesn’t ask anything of you, yet gives you something anyway.
And beside me was a book.
Weird Wisdom at Work by Trish Goodfield.
What if “weird” is actually wisdom?
The question on the back of the book stayed with me:
What if being called “weird” was the highest compliment you could receive?
It made me pause.
Not because it felt new, but because it felt familiar.
In my work, I often see how quickly people move away from their natural way of thinking. The ideas that feel a bit different. The questions that don’t quite fit. The perspectives that don’t follow the expected path.
Those are often the very things that hold clarity.
Not the polished answers.
Not the safe options.
But the slightly unusual thoughts that make you stop and look again.
The power of not rushing the answer
There was no attempt to “figure anything out” in that moment.
No journaling prompts.
No framework to follow.
No pressure to turn the experience into something productive.
And yet, something shifted.
Not in a dramatic way. Just a quiet sense of space returning. The kind that allows curiosity to come back in without forcing it.
Sometimes clarity does not come from doing more.
Sometimes it comes from giving yourself permission to sit in between.
Between busy and still.
Between knowing and not knowing.
Between day and night.
What the water reflects back
Water has a way of holding things without needing to fix them.
It reflects light without holding onto it. It moves without rushing. It changes without needing permission.
Sitting there, watching the reflections stretch and shift, I was reminded of something I often see in others.
When we stop trying to control every outcome, our thinking begins to open.
When judgement softens, curiosity returns.
When curiosity returns, new possibilities begin to appear.
Not because we forced them.
But because we made space for them.
A different kind of reset
We often talk about recharging our batteries as if it needs to be a big action.
A holiday. A full day off. A complete disconnect.
But sometimes, it looks like this.
A quiet moment by the water.
A skyline slowly coming to life.
A book that asks a question you did not realise you needed.
And a gentle reminder that your way of seeing the world, even the parts that feel a little “weird,” might be exactly where your strength sits.
A small invitation
If you get the chance this week, find your own version of this moment.
It does not need to be by water.
It does not need to be at sunset.
It does not even need to involve a book.
Just a pause.
A space where nothing is required of you.
And a willingness to notice what comes up when you are not trying to find the answer.
You might be surprised by what quietly begins to take shape.
🌿 Sometimes the most powerful shifts do not come from pushing forward, but from allowing yourself to sit, notice, and let the sparks find you.
Jenn Barfield - Holistic Clarity Coaching 