Almost forgot that this is the whole point...

I know we often talk about the importance of hard work.
Discipline. Focus. Showing up when it’s hard.
But here’s something I don’t say often enough:

I know the exact recipe for a bad mood: Go an entire day without stepping outside.

No walk. No sun. No breeze.

Just a full loop inside four walls.

It doesn’t hit immediately, but by evening, everything feels heavier.

The brain fog. The low patience. The weird restlessness you can’t name.

That’s why, no matter how packed the day is —

I make sure I step out.

Even if it’s for 10 minutes.

Even if it’s just to stand in the sun, breathe, and come back.

There’ve been phases where I never missed a sunset.

Walking barefoot on grass feels like hitting reset on everything.

Stepping out isn’t a break. It’s part of the baseline.

When you’re building something — your body, your business, your self — it’s easy to think the point is to always be building.

But it’s not. The point is to live.

And for me, building is part of it — but so is stepping outside.

The gym makes me stronger.
The writing gives me clarity.
The runs give me structure.

But it’s nature — just being in it — that gives me breath.

That’s what I forgot.

This isn’t about self-optimization.
It’s not a reset or a trick for more clarity.
It’s just… real.

There’s nothing to prove when you’re out there, standing in the sun.
No inbox. No calendar. No noise.

Just the breeze.
Some birds.
Maybe even silence.

I’m not saying go hike a mountain.
Just step outside. Walk without AirPods.
Let the day happen without trying to control all of it.

Because this is the whole point.
The stillness. The presence. The reminder that you’re alive, even when you’re not doing anything extraordinary.

(One of my very close friends also suggested going out for walks without my phone, and it has been life-changing)

A couple of weeks ago, I paused.

I spent a few days up in the mountains — no notifications, no pings, no infinite scroll.

No internet was a gift.

It gave me space.
To breathe.
To slow down.
To listen.

And in the stillness, I remembered what it feels like to live—not for productivity, not for content, just for the moment itself.

Because this is the point.

To live while you build.

The days feel long. But the years? They’re flying.

So if there’s one thing I’d suggest you do this week, it’s this:

Touch some grass.

Literally. Figuratively. Emotionally.

Step away from the noise, even if just for an hour.
There’s a whole world waiting to remind you what it feels like to be human again.

See ya next week :)