
There’s something about being outside that resets me in a way nothing else does.
I don’t mean a vacation. I don’t mean a planned trip or some curated experience. I mean stepping out the door, feeling the air, and letting my body exist in a space that isn’t controlled, scheduled, or buzzing with noise.
When I spend too much time indoors, too much time around screens, I feel it. I get restless. Irritable. My thoughts speed up. Everything feels heavier than it should.
Outside, that all softens.
The World Feels More Honest Out There
Nature doesn’t rush you.
The trees don’t care what time it is. The wind doesn’t respond to notifications. The sky doesn’t demand productivity. Everything just exists, moving at the pace it’s meant to move.
When I’m outside — walking, biking, sitting, or just standing still — I feel more like myself. Thoughts slow down. Problems shrink. Not because they disappear, but because they’re put in the right perspective.
This is a big reason I choose a slower life in general. I wrote about that more in Why I Choose a Slower Life, but being outside is where that choice actually becomes real.
Movement Without Pressure
Some days being outside means moving hard.
Mountain biking until my legs are shot. Walking trails until I’m tired in a good way. Working in the yard until my hands are dirty and sore.
Other days it means doing almost nothing. Sitting in the backyard. Watching birds. Looking at the sky. Letting time pass without feeling like I need to justify it.
Both matter.
We’ve convinced ourselves that movement only counts if it’s tracked, measured, or optimized. But moving for the sake of feeling alive is enough. Being tired because you used your body is different than being exhausted from constant mental noise.
Silence Is Easier Outside
I’ve always been drawn to silence, and outside is where silence feels natural instead of awkward.
Inside, silence feels like something’s missing. Outside, it feels complete.
I’ve written before about the importance of sitting in silence and doing nothing, and being outdoors makes that kind of quiet easier to access. There’s always something happening — wind, birds, leaves — but none of it demands anything from you.
That kind of quiet settles the nervous system in a way I don’t think most people realize they’re missing.
Kids Understand This Instinctively
My kids don’t need to be convinced to go outside. They just do.
They dig. They wander. They sit. They ask questions. They get bored and then find something interesting five minutes later. Watching them reminds me that this pull toward nature isn’t something we learn — it’s something we forget.
Being outside together strengthens our connection without trying. No forced conversations. No schedules. Just shared space and time.
That’s a big part of how I think about parenting and everyday values — teaching by example, not instruction.
I Don’t Need Much
I don’t need perfect weather.
I don’t need a destination.
I don’t need a reason.
Sometimes all I need is to step outside and remember that life is bigger than my to-do list.
This pull toward nature is tied closely to how I think about homesteading too — not as an aesthetic or a goalpost, but as a way of staying grounded in real things. Dirt. Weather. Seasons. Effort. Presence.
It doesn’t require land ownership or some future version of life. It starts wherever you are.
Outside Is Where I Reset
When life feels overwhelming, confusing, or numb, being outside brings me back to center.
It doesn’t fix everything. It doesn’t magically solve problems. But it reminds me who I am when all the noise falls away.
And that’s usually enough to take the next step — slower, clearer, and more grounded.
– Just a note from the yard.