What Happens When We Turn Down the Volume?

Part of my healing journey began with a simple question.

Years ago, while I was working in downtown Nashville, I found myself standing on a busy sidewalk. For a moment, I stopped walking and simply listened.

Car horns. Conversations. Sirens. Construction. Music spilling out of storefronts. Notifications buzzing in my pocket.

The city wasn’t unusually loud. I had just never really noticed it before.

As I stood there, another question surfaced: If this is what I’m hearing in just one moment, how much stimulation is my mind collecting every single day?

That question stayed with me.

I started paying closer attention to all the “noise” I was allowing into my life. Television. My phone. Social media. News. Emails. Conversations. The endless stream of information that seemed to arrive without invitation.

None of those things were inherently bad. But together they created a level of mental clutter I hadn’t realized I was carrying.

So I began experimenting.

I didn’t try to eliminate noise. Instead, I became more intentional about choosing it.

I spent more time reading books that stretched my thinking instead of endlessly scrolling. I discovered forest bathing music that helped my mind settle. I spent more time outside. And, surprisingly, I learned to appreciate silence. What once felt empty gradually became restorative.

Over time, something remarkable happened. The constant chatter in my mind became quieter. I felt less overstimulated, more present, and more able to think clearly. It wasn’t an overnight change, but it was one of the most meaningful shifts I’ve experienced.

For years I could never understand when runners said, “I run because it clears my head.”

I would smile, try running myself, and think, My head is louder than ever.

Now I understand what they meant.

These days, after intentionally reducing so much of the mental clutter, I can imagine experiencing that same sense of spaciousness. I’m still not much of a runner—and that’s okay—but I finally understand what it feels like to have enough quiet inside that your mind isn’t competing with every step.

As I’ve continued exploring the Harmony of the Elements, I’ve come to think of this as caring for the Air element: creating space for clarity, perspective, and the simple gift of an unhurried mind.

Sometimes it’s about gently turning down the volume so you can finally hear yourself again.

There’s No Place Like Soul 🪴

🔗 Forest Bathing Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/37i9dQZF1DX2DjEOgyULQF?si=KI2TLx0oTsaSMk7EWWDmIw&utm_source=copy-link