How Traveling Slowed Me Down—And Why That Was Exactly What I Needed

For years, my life ran on tight schedules and endless to-do lists. Wake up, rush to work, hustle through tasks, squeeze in social time, sleep, repeat. I didn’t realize how much I was missing until I left the rhythm of everyday life behind and hopped on a plane.

My most recent trip wasn't about bucket list landmarks or Instagrammable food. It was about slowing down—and it all started in a sleepy coastal town in southern Portugal.

I had no real itinerary, just a vague idea of places I wanted to see. I wandered cobblestone streets, stopped for espresso whenever I felt like it, and listened to the ocean more than I listened to my phone. Days blurred into each other in the best way possible. I let go of the urge to constantly "do" and instead leaned into just "being."

One morning, I watched an elderly couple share breakfast in silence, not awkwardly, but comfortably—like they’d done it a thousand times before. There was something beautiful in that moment: stillness without boredom, closeness without words. It made me think about how little space I’d left in my own life for moments like that.

Travel, I realized, wasn’t just about new places. It was about new pace.

I learned to enjoy slow mornings without guilt, to appreciate meals without multitasking, to walk without always knowing where I was going. I even started journaling again, something I hadn’t done since college. Without the pressure to perform or produce, I remembered what it felt like to breathe fully, to think clearly.

And here's the thing: coming back home, I didn’t want to lose that feeling.

So I started making small changes. I leave my phone in another room when I eat. I take long walks without podcasts in my ears. I schedule "nothing" into my calendar and protect that time fiercely.

Travel didn't just refresh me—it reset me.

If you’re feeling burnt out, creatively blocked, or just kind of numb to your daily routine, I can’t recommend slow travel enough. You don’t have to fly across the world or quit your job. Just pick a place that doesn’t demand much from you—somewhere you can wander, think, and remember what it feels like to be unhurried.

You might just find that what you were looking for isn’t a place—but a pace.