I turned 30 a few days ago, and something clicked in a way I didn’t expect. Not in a life-altering sense. More like a shift in how I experience time. Things feel slower. Not boring. Just clearer.
People love to talk about the Saturn return, that late-twenties period where life starts rearranging itself whether you asked for it or not. I’ve known about it for years. I write about astrology. I analyze cycles for fun. I still thought I might dodge the personal part of it. I didn’t.
Sitting Without a Purpose
A few days after my birthday, I went to a park and did something I rarely do. I sat down without a reason. No phone. No TikTok. No podcast. No plan to meet anyone. I wasn’t killing time between tasks. I was just there. Initially, yes, it felt strange. But then, it didn’t.
I watched the trees move. I watched the sky change color. I let my thoughts come and go without grabbing them. And that’s when I noticed how many older people were doing the exact same thing.
They weren’t reading. They weren’t talking. They weren’t exercising. They were simply sitting. That’s when it hit me. They weren’t bored. They were present.
Why Old People Sit Outside Just to Sit Outside
Old people sit outside just to sit outside because at some point in life, time stops being something you spend and starts being something you experience.
They’re not out there to fill a gap in the day. They’re there to feel the day pass. To notice light on leaves. To feel air on their skin. To hear distant sounds without needing to react to them.
When you’re younger, stillness feels pointless. As if every moment needs a function to justify itself. As you get older, you realize that sitting without a goal is the point.
From Constant Motion to Pausing
When you’re young, life is about momentum. You’re always headed somewhere or chasing something. School turns into work. Work turns into plans. Plans turn into the next plan. Everything is forward motion.
There’s nothing wrong with that. But it leaves very little room for stopping.
Around 30, something shifts. You start noticing how fast everything has been moving. You start realizing that life isn’t endless. That time isn’t abstract anymore. It’s personal.
And suddenly, sitting feels meaningful.
What Older People Already Understand
They’re not sitting outside because they’ve checked out of life. They’re sitting because they’ve lived enough of it to know what doesn’t need effort.
They’ve spent decades rushing, worrying, planning, fixing. At some point, you learn that not every moment needs improvement. Some moments are complete on their own.
That’s not laziness. That’s experience.
Doing Nothing Isn’t Empty
We’ve been taught that doing nothing is a failure. That rest has to be earned. That time only counts if it produces something.
But sitting outside proves otherwise.
There’s value in watching the world move without inserting yourself into it. There’s something grounding about letting time pass without trying to control it. You start noticing things that don’t show up when you’re rushing through your day.
Nothing is being achieved. And yet, something shifts.
What Turning 30 Gave Me
I’ve done a lot already. I’ve traveled solo to nearly 50 countries. I’ve lived abroad. I’ve learned multiple languages. I’ve built things. I’ve chased goals.
And still, one of the most meaningful moments I’ve had recently was sitting on a bench with no agenda. That surprised me. It made me realize I don’t want my next decade to be only about accumulation. I want more moments where time isn’t something to manage, but something to inhabit.
The Lesson I’m Keeping
Now, when I see older people sitting outside, I don’t see passivity. I see people who understand what’s worth their energy and what isn’t.
They’re not waiting for life to happen. They’re already in it.
And I hope I don’t wait until I’m 70 to live that way.
I hope I can keep choosing to sit, to pause, to let moments exist without turning them into tasks. Because maybe the richest parts of life aren’t the ones we chase, but the ones we finally stop long enough to notice.
