For a long time, I didn’t really walk.
I moved from place to place, sure. I got things done. I went outside. I “ran errands.” I took the long way home sometimes. But I didn’t walk the way people mean it when they talk about walking as a kind of reset of the mind and soul. A time to just take in the natural beauty around you.
And when I did walk, I almost always brought something with me.
A playlist. Sometimes I wasn’t even listening closely — it was just there to fill the space.
I didn’t realize how much I was afraid of the quiet until I finally started leaving the headphones behind.
Not because I’m trying to be some enlightened minimalist or because I think music is bad. I still love music, like really really love it to the point of singing along with it cranked on the stereo in the car..
But walking without headphones started doing something to me.
It gave my brain room to breathe.
It gave my thoughts a chance to catch up.
And it reminded me that real life is happening all around me. The sounds, the sensations you don’t realize, how the trees and the animals move. All the things that you usually are not aware of when your distracted by music, or your favorite podcast.
The first few walks feel… wrong
The funny part is, the first time you do it , actually walk outside with nothing playing , it can feel weirdly uncomfortable.
Almost like you forgot something important.
You’ll reach for your pockets. You’ll check your phone. You’ll feel like your missing something.
That’s the whole point.
We’ve gotten used to living life with a constant stream running in the background.
Noise.
Content.
Information.
Even when we’re doing something as simple as walking down a sidewalk, we feel like it has to be “productive.” It has to include learning something, listening to something, improving something.
Walking becomes another way to multitask.
But when you remove the headphones, you’re left with something most people aren’t used to anymore:
Your own mind.
Your own pace.
The actual world.
And at first, that can be loud in a different way.
Because your thoughts show up.
The ones you’ve been outrunning.
The ones you’ve been burying under content.
The ones you don’t always want to hear.
Silence isn’t empty — it’s full of information
One of the biggest surprises for me is how much you notice when you stop filling your ears.
You hear wind you didn’t realize was there.
You hear birds that were always singing but got drowned out by your playlist.
You hear the distant hum of traffic and realize how far it travels.
You hear your own footsteps.
Your own breathing.
And if you’re walking through your neighborhood or a trail, you start noticing little details you’ve walked past a hundred times without ever seeing.
A bent fence post.
A flower growing where it shouldn’t.
A new crack in the sidewalk.
A dog barking behind a closed door.
A porch light that’s always on.
It’s like your brain wakes up again.
And you remember: this is the world.
Not the world on a screen.
Not the world in your head.
The real one.
And for me, that matters.
Because a lot of the reason I started building this whole life — the garden, the slower days, the desire to get out of the modern grind, is because I want to actually live in reality.
Not just survive it.
Not just distract myself from it.
Walking without headphones slows your mind down naturally
There’s a certain speed your brain runs at when it’s constantly consuming.
You don’t even notice it until you stop.
When you’re always listening to something, your mind stays in “input mode.”
It’s always taking something in.
And there’s nothing wrong with learning, but too much input makes it hard to process anything.
It’s like eating all day and never digesting.
Walking without headphones is one of the easiest ways I’ve found to let digestion happen.
Your thoughts start moving again, but slower.
They start organizing themselves.
You stop jumping from one thing to the next.
You start finishing thoughts you didn’t know were incomplete.
Sometimes you remember something important you forgot.
Sometimes you realize what’s been bothering you.
Sometimes you feel grateful for no reason.
Sometimes you get hit with a random sadness that’s been sitting under the surface.
And yeah — sometimes you just feel bored.
But boredom isn’t a problem.
It’s not “doing nothing.” It’s being present.
People hear “walking without headphones” and think it’s some self-improvement thing.
Like a challenge.
Like a discipline tactic.
But for me it’s not that.
It’s just a way of coming back to myself.
I’ve written before about the difference between rest and escaping — because there’s a huge difference. Rest actually fills you back up. Escaping just numbs you out for a while.
Headphones can be either.
Sometimes music is rest. Sometimes it’s joy. Sometimes it’s therapy.
But sometimes it’s also escape.
Sometimes it’s me avoiding my own thoughts.
Sometimes it’s me trying to outrun the day.
Sometimes it’s me refusing to be alone with myself for 20 minutes.
Walking without headphones is one of the few things that makes it impossible to pretend.
You’re just there.
You and the world.
No buffer.
And weirdly… it’s calming.
You start noticing your life again
There’s a lot of talk about “mindfulness” these days, but most of it feels like a product.
Like something you buy.
Like something you subscribe to.
But the simplest version of mindfulness is just paying attention.
That’s it.
And walking without headphones forces attention.
You notice your neighborhood.
You notice your mood.
You notice the weather.
You notice how your body feels.
You notice if you’re tense.
You notice if you’re exhausted.
You notice if you’re angry for no reason.
You notice if you’re carrying stress in your shoulders like a backpack you forgot to take off.
And once you notice, you can adjust.
You can breathe.
You can slow down.
You can stop pushing so hard.
Sometimes I think the reason modern life feels so heavy is because we never give ourselves the chance to actually feel it.
We just keep layering noise on top of noise.
Walking without headphones strips it down.
And what’s left is real.
It reminds you that you don’t have to be entertained constantly
This is the part that hits deeper.
A lot of us were trained to believe that every moment needs something added to it.
If you’re driving, you need audio.
If you’re cleaning, you need a podcast.
If you’re cooking, you need YouTube playing in the background.
If you’re walking, you need music.
If you’re alone, you need a screen.
And if you don’t have those things, it feels like something is missing.
But what if nothing is missing?
What if we’re just addicted to stimulation?
Walking without headphones is one small way to prove to yourself:
I can exist without constant input.
I can be alone with myself.
I can be bored and not die.
I can let my thoughts rise and fall without panicking.
That’s not dramatic.
That’s freedom.
And it builds slowly.
One quiet walk at a time.
It fits the kind of life I’m trying to build
A big reason I started this blog in the first place is because I’m trying to build a life that feels grounded.
Not perfect.
Not aesthetic.
Not “optimized.”
Just grounded.
A life where I can work hard, take care of my family, grow food, learn skills, and still have enough mental space left to feel like a human being.
A life that doesn’t require escape every night.
Walking without headphones fits into that.
It’s a small ritual.
A small return.
A reminder that I don’t need to run from my own life.
I just need to slow down inside it.
Final thoughts
I’m not saying everyone needs to throw their headphones away.
But I am saying this:
If you’ve been feeling restless, distracted, overwhelmed, or numb…
Try one walk without anything playing.
No music.
No podcast.
No background noise.
Just walk.
Let your mind wander.
Let your thoughts settle.
Let the world be the world again.
You might be surprised by what shows up when you finally stop filling every empty space.
– Just a note from the yard.