Breaking Free From The Goldfish Bowl: Finding Stillness on England's South Coast

Here I stand on Weymouth beach, coffee in hand, listening to waves crash against the shore. Thirty minutes remain before I board the train back to Bristol, back to reality. The weekend has gifted me with coastlines, cliffs, harbours, and boats—but most importantly, it has offered me time just to be with myself. After walking roughly 28 miles over two days, my body carries a pleasant fatigue while my mind feels unusually clear.

Escaping the Familiar

During lockdown, I explored the city in ever-widening circles until every street corner held a familiarity that borders on confinement. My daily routes often take me through some of the city's most deprived areas—a constant reminder of the work I do as a welfare advisor and the suffering I witness. That morning alone, walking through the city to the station, I encountered 11 rough sleepers and witnessed the aftermath of a fight at Turbo Island where the entrenched homeless gather. Blood-streaked faces, police and fire engines on the scene—the usual chaos of urban poverty that I can no longer unsee.

One person asked specifically for a bacon roll from Greggs, which I bought without hesitation. When someone asks for food rather than money, the directness of their need feels impossible to ignore. Yet the sheer volume of these encounters requires me to maintain emotional shields—a necessary protection that also creates distance.

A Different Frequency

What strikes me about Weymouth and Portland is how life moves at a different frequency. The poverty is still visible—perhaps even more so with mobility scooters, crutches, and physical ailments prominently displayed in this off-season coastal town. Yet there's a palpable sense of community that seems to arise from their shared circumstances.

In smaller towns like this, people appear more open to each other's common pains. They create communities that hold each other in the kind space everyone deserves. Instead of isolation, there's connection—mostly centered around simple pleasures like dog walking. "If they're not out swimming, they're out walking their dog," I noted in my journal, observing how these activities create natural opportunities for interaction among strangers.

Physical Liberation, Mental Clarity

Walking the coastal paths has been a revelation for my body and mind. Using barefoot shoes has kept me connected to the earth beneath me, even as I covered mile after mile of stunning terrain. From Weymouth to Portland Marina and beyond, the physical exertion has opened something in my soul.

Unlike the confined urban spaces of Bristol, these coastal views extend to the horizon where the Atlantic Ocean blends into the English Channel. My eyes, typically fixed on screens or limited by city blocks, can finally relax into distance. The deep breathing that naturally comes with this kind of walking seems to clear not just my lungs but my thoughts as well.

This is what the body was designed for—to breathe, move, and live in expansive natural spaces. As an office worker tethered to screens all day, these activities reconnect my spinal brain with its evolutionary purpose.

Finding Space for Growth

Despite being on holiday, I made time for my mathematics studies at the local library. This academic pursuit—part of my professional development in leadership—represents a personal mountain I'm determined to climb. Having never achieved a mathematics qualification in school, I've spent the past year working diligently on this subject while simultaneously writing leadership essays and managing welfare casework.

One study session found me hitting a brick wall with problems I couldn't immediately solve. The frustration momentarily took me back to old feelings of inadequacy. Then I reminded myself: "This is a study session, not a real exam." With that perspective shift, I researched what I needed to know and identified areas for practice. This tenacity, which I'm learning to recognize as a positive trait rather than stubborn perfectionism, will serve me through the final push toward summer exams.

The Mystery of Self-Connection

Listening to the waves while drinking coffee on my final morning, I felt something click into place. Looking out at the cliffs of the south west coast and watching the Sunday morning activities along the seafront, I experienced a rare moment of connection—both to the world around me and to something deeper within myself.

What I must remember is that this feeling doesn't belong exclusively to beautiful coastlines or perfect weather. It's always with me, regardless of environment or circumstances. The challenge is accessing it amid the noise and demands of everyday life.

My relationship with Caroline has been instrumental in helping me rediscover this truth. Her passion for exploration matched mine, but her motivation to venture beyond familiar surroundings exceeded my own. Together, we've completed over 100 walks across southwest England in just one year. Her influence has inspired me to see who I am in new worlds rather than remain trapped in the "paralysis of analysis" that negative internal thinking can create.

The Value of Temporary Escape

These kinds of trips will be important going forward—not as permanent escapes but as necessary respites for my sanity. They allow me to temporarily drop the empathic shields I maintain in Bristol, where balancing compassion for others against my own emotional well-being requires constant energy.

When you live and work in a place long enough, especially doing emotionally demanding work like welfare advising, the location itself can become associated with suffering. Breaking that association periodically isn't just self-care—it's necessary maintenance for continuing to do meaningful work without burnout.

As I prepare to return to my life in Bristol, I carry this weekend's stillness with me. The independence to visit places of peace is a privilege I won't take for granted. Finding eternal stillness in a world that is decidedly earthly—that remains the ongoing work of living consciously, whether surrounded by city streets or coastal paths.

What matters is remembering that the mystery within is always accessible, if only we create the space to reach for it.