Over the past few weeks, the temperature has been rising steadily, and I mean really rising. On the one hand, it’s giving off those perfect holiday vibes: long, balmy evenings, spontaneous dips in the sea, and a general sense that life is meant to be lived at a slower, gentler pace. There’s something magical about this warmth, it wraps around you like a blanket, luring you into lazy conversations and barefoot dinners under the stars.

But let’s be honest: it’s not all sunset swims and sangria. With the heat comes a need to rewire our daily rhythms. The idea of doing too much at once becomes unbearable. Mornings need to start earlier, not because I am a morning person, but because it’s the only time when doing anything physical or even thinking straight, feels remotely doable.

Swimming isn’t just fun anymore; it’s survival. And being out in the midday sun? Let’s not even go there. Shade becomes our closest ally. The nights are warm too, which sounds romantic until you’re tossing and turning, trying to find a cool spot on the pillow that hasn’t already been claimed by your overcooked brain.

Ironically, the only time I really feel good in the heat is when I’m moving: sailing, walking, anything that creates a breeze. But we can’t be in motion all the time, can we? At some point, we have to stop. And that’s when the real challenge kicks in.

Take something as simple as tidying up the boat: “I’ll just quickly…” No. There is no quickly in this kind of heat. Even the smallest task becomes a sweaty ordeal if you’ve just come back from the sun. Everything needs adjusting: the boat needs more shade, groceries need smarter storage, we need to figure out where the coolest corner is (not metaphorically, but literally).

And that’s when I realise: we need time. To acclimatise. To adapt. To slow down.
And slow mode is exactly where I struggle.

I’m used to moving fast, ticking off tasks, getting things done. But when your brain is frying and your limbs feel heavy, the only way forward is to surrender a bit, to the sun, to the moment, to the heat.

So here I am, learning how to pace myself, how to not do all the things at once, how to give myself permission to just sit, sweat, sip something cold, and wait for the breeze to return.

The heat might be here to stay, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Maybe it’s an invitation, to live more slowly, more deliberately. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll learn to enjoy it.

Written by: Mirjam