There’s a kind of tired that even sleep or caffeine can’t fix. The kind that comes from calendars packed too tight, from conversations that feel like logistics meetings, from the blur of raising kids, building careers, and keeping it all afloat.
It builds quietly, until your body keeps going but your soul needs stillness.
That’s why we chose to pause.
Three days. Two nights.
One full day of zero obligations—no meetings, no alarms, no expectations.
And one day working from home, but here, not there.
Just time away from it all.
From work. From our routines. From the buzz of the town we live in.
A Home That Slows Time
We left after work on a Monday and took the scenic route—Highway 98 all the way in. The drive became its own kind of decompression. For once, we rode in silence. No music. Just talking and processing the day while the beauty was unfolding outside our windows. The sun dipping through trees, bridges while stretching over waters, the Gulf showing us its beauty right beside us.
When we arrived at Forgotten Coast Sanctuary, I walked straight through the house to the back porch and caught the last golden rays of the day. I stood there quietly, in awe. This is ours. I sent a video to my brother—he loves sunsets and nature as much as I do.
The house greeted us with the same warmth it always does—open, coastal, calm. Tonight, we skipped the beach and listened instead to the chorus of nature right from our sofa. Chuck tossed a throw blanket over us, and we sank in, letting the stillness wrap around us until we fell asleep.
Waking Up—Without a Clock
The sunrise gently fill the room instead of alarms. No urgency. No schedule. Just soft light.
I headed out for a short shake-out run along Old 98. Running with the sound of the Gulf beside me gave me exactly what I didn’t know I needed.
When I came back, Chuck was on the porch, deep into his morning devotional. I brewed some coffee and joined him with Conversations with God and my journal—both of us ready to be wrapped in stillness for a bit longer that morning.
We made breakfast and decided to walk the beach—not because we had time to kill, but because we had the time to enjoy. No timeline, no endpoint, just a shared start only 4 minutes from our front door. It still gets me that I can walk to the beach from our home.
We set up our chairs and umbrella to claim our spot for the day and we set out to walk towards Mexico Beach. We did 4 miles in total. We played volleyball, took the paddleboards out, and even played with the sand pretending to make castles.
Phones were on Do Not Disturb. They were used only for pictures and videos. This was our day off the grid.
Wandering, Not Planning
What I love most about Port St. Joe is how it invites curiosity and stillness. There’s no pressure to “do it all”—just gentle invitations to explore.
We headed into downtown and wandered through our favorite local shops. Going Coastal always surprises us with something new—local art, handmade jewelry from around the world, and Dana, who always makes us feel welcome.
We browsed Timber Tides for more athletic wear as we basically live in them. We thought about fishing a little on the wall. We talked about golfing. But we decided to simply sit down for a drink at Krazy Fish and watch the cars and people pass by.
Coming Back to Center
Each evening brought us home to our sanctuary—the back porch, the soft light, the space to breathe. Wrapped in a blanket with a glass of wine in hand, we talked about the things we rarely have space for back home: future plans, small dreams, what we want more of in this next chapter of life.
This wasn’t about fixing or reconnecting. This was about stepping away—from work, noise, the constant movement—so we could simply exist in a place that filled us back up.
Forgotten Coast Sanctuary gave us that.
Port St. Joe gave us the rhythm to move slowly and with joy.
Need This Too?
If your schedule has taken over your days and you’re longing for a place where you can just be—this is it.
📍Stay at Forgotten Coast Sanctuary in Port St. Joe
Walk to the beach. Sleep in. Paddle out. Wander downtown. Work if you must, rest if you can. And return to your everyday life just a little lighter.