I never saw walking and journaling as just for fitness. It wasn’t about distractions either, because some people walk or run to escape their thoughts.

I walk to meet mine. In our noisy and busy lives, we rarely have space to notice what we are actually feeling or thinking. We never allow the space for thoughts to surface. Buried with activities and invitations that were never important, the thoughts remain buried. The truth is, the thoughts never went away; they just got accumulated, unattended, and buried deeper, hoping they never surface again. There’s an endless ammunition of distractions from social media, enough to sink our thoughts to the point we neglect the pain, the messages, the voice that’s trying to tell us. Walking removes these distractions, phones, screens, music, or unimportant tasks. By walking, you engage with your body without effort, and this creates a calming rhythm that mirrors deep thinking. Time felt like slowing down. And slowly you will begin to hear things you’ve been too busy or too afraid to notice.

Sometimes it’s something you wish you’d known earlier.

Sometimes you notice that you need to re-strategise your work input, thinking about what works and what doesn’t. Sometimes it’s a feeling you didn’t know you were carrying.

Sometimes it’s a memory you didn’t know still mattered.

Sometimes it’s a question you’ve been trying to avoid.

Sometimes it’s a hope you thought you had to let go.

Sometimes it’s a truth you were not ready to admit. Sometimes, just grief that never asked for attention. Sometimes it’s when you realise you had enough instead of not enough and complaining.

Walk and Write

Thoughts start to untangle and organise themselves as you walk. When you rest, sit down, reflect and write down to a journal afterwards, the writing just flows more naturally, without force.

Every time I start a new project, I struggle with overthinking or blank pages. Sometimes I tried to build a journaling habit but felt blocked. Sometimes I don’t feel like writing. It is so difficult to sit still and find the reflections. Until I realised when I was stuck, that is where I needed to move, to walk. Especially when my thoughts are loud and disorganised. Sometimes I think I have something to write but I just don’t seem to name it yet, can’t find the right words. But maybe I was not just looking for answers, not trying to solve a problem. I was looking for clarity or perspective. And in the end, to be able to write them down is not always about having something to write or say. It is more about creating the space to connect what’s already there. Just listen, not judging, no pressure. Just walk and write. Walking is part of the process and not something you do before writing. The writing is in motion when you walk. In Walk Your Way to Clarity, I shared how walking helps me make better decisions. But this practice added another layer: it helped me witness myself. Not just think clearly but feel more deeply. And that feeling carried directly into the way I write.

When I sit and write before walking, sometimes I think I am forcing the words, and the ideas to appear, trying to sound smart or make sense. I have more resistance sitting still. And when I walk, it is like the body is assisting the writing process, in the background. By the time I sit down to take notes or to reflect, the words are not locked up anymore; they are waiting. Not searching for what to say; it just felt already there. And I felt that at the end of the whole process, writing becomes less about creating; it is more about revealing. The feeling comes first, words later. I talked more about this gentle clarity in How Writing Clarifies Your Thoughts and Beliefs. It’s not always immediate, but it’s often waiting beneath the noise I didn’t know I had.

Walking Is How I Prepare to Listen

In the past, I often did a lot of preparation before sitting for exams. It’s like if I had to take second attempts, it meant I was a failure. And I guess this led to who I am now. As if everything has to be perfect on the first attempt where more than one attempt is a shame. We live in a world that values performance over presence, and output over awareness. When you allow yourself to try without setting high expectations, or a goal to achieve, you give yourself the calm, and the freedom to explore curiosity and create. Just like during our childhood, you are playful and curious. You are not trying to impress, to prove, to control, or to be someone else. You let yourself be present, to notice and reflect. And this happens through walking. Sometimes when we are bored, after walking, when we reflect, we are just telling the truth. That is where honesty lives, not in trying, not in perfection, but in the presence. The sentences may not be perfectly structured, and it is the moment of truth that surfaces when you are not trying to sound smart. It’s similar to what I explored in Simple Ways to Slow Down Your Mornings & Evenings. These aren’t huge life shifts, just small, repeatable rituals that reconnect me with myself.

Movement Makes Emotions Safe

Some emotions are too quiet or too uncomfortable to surface when you are still. But walking invites them forward. And writing afterwards lets you hold them before they slip away. Here is a reason why some thoughts only come while I walk.

You recognise that movement creates a safer space for emotions. Stillness can feel intimidating, like staring directly at something painful. When it comes to walking, it gives you motion without confrontation. It gives your feelings a way to surface without pressure. Your body is relaxed and calm. You give yourself space and freedom. There is no urgency, no performance, no goal. These create a non-threatening environment where things can rise naturally. You have more awareness because you feel, not analyse. You allow your body to sense before the brain can name, tension, lightness, or restlessness. Walking gives your body a chance to communicate with you.

In How Chess Mirrors the Pace of Slow Living, I wrote about taking time to think before each move. Walking and journaling are part of that same philosophy, deliberate, curious, not rushed.

Journaling Without Force

This is not a test; there is no trophy, no ranking. There is no word count. No goal. You write what you reflect, and you stop when it’s all written and done! This is you, don’t compare yourself. You have done well! You are not here to achieve something; you are here to meet yourself. When you do that, you free yourself from expectations, the pressure to perform, and self-comparison. It is more about expression over output. Some days I write six lines, and I don’t feel guilty about it. Other days, seven pages. It’s okay, and there is no target for the day. Because even if you wrote less than you think you had or you should, you still did a good job because you are honest. Not everything needs to be consistent and impressive. There are ups and downs; it’s normal. Just saying what’s real even if it’s simple. Trusting the voice and being present is enough.

In What If We Treated Time Like Money, I challenged the idea of time as something to “use efficiently.” Walking and journaling have taught me that time is more like a currency of awareness. The more present I am, the richer I feel even without doing much at all.

The Cycle: Walk → Reflect → Write → Repeat

Here’s what it looks like for me now:

1. I walk without distraction.
2. I listen without trying to solve.
3. I come home and write what stayed with me.
4. I stop when I’ve said enough.

Sometimes I write about something that happened years ago. Sometimes I write about what I noticed on the sidewalk five minutes ago. Sometimes I don’t write at all. I just sit and feel still.

This practice reminds me of something I said in How to Align Your Money with a Slow Living Mindset: that slow living isn’t about doing less for the sake of it. It’s about creating space for what matters most.

If You Want to Try This

You don’t need a fancy journal. You don’t need to be a writer. You just need a little time, a quiet walk, and the courage to write down what lingers.

Start small:

• Walk without your phone, even for 10 minutes.
• Don’t look for answers—just observe.
• When you get home, write one sentence.
• Let that sentence be enough.

And if you’re someone who often struggles with perfectionism or productivity, check out What if Your Life Is Already a Masterpiece, Just Unedited. That post pairs beautifully with this practice.

Walk The Thoughts

Walking inspires my journaling not because it gives me something brilliant to say but because it brings me back to myself.

It’s not about writing perfectly. It’s about making space for truth. It’s about letting the noise fade until something quieter can speak.

Some of my most meaningful journal entries didn’t start with an idea. They started with a walk I didn’t plan, a feeling I didn’t expect, and a sentence I didn’t know I needed.

And maybe that’s the real beauty of this practice: It teaches you to listen long before you write.

So if you’ve ever felt stuck, like you had nothing “worth writing,” maybe start with a walk. Not to find the right words but to find your way back to yourself.

That’s where the real writing begins.

🖋️ If this resonated, I share reflections like this in my newsletter, quiet notes on walking, writing, slow living, and creativity.

And if you’d like to join me on YouTube soon, I’m slowly building a space there too, one video at a time. You can subscribe here if you’d like to be part of it from the start.

We don’t have to rush. We just have to keep moving gently and honestly.

Related Post

That link between movement and self-awareness plays a big role in how we handle reactivity—something I unpacked here: Why You React Faster Than You Reflect.