What you notice on a path when you stop watching the clock.

Sometimes I go outside just to clear my head for a little while.
And then I somehow manage to turn even that into another task.
Twenty more minutes. Then I have to be back. How far have I walked? Which way should I go? Is there enough time for the longer route?
It is actually a little absurd.
I leave the desk because I do not want to work through another list – and simply carry the schedule outside with me.
Just step outside for a while
I think we have become very good at measuring our paths.
Minutes. Kilometres. Steps. Calories. Arrival times.
That is often useful. But sometimes it takes away exactly what I like about being on the move: something is allowed to happen that I did not plan beforehand.
So at some point I wondered: what happens if I simply walk?
Without trying to arrive somewhere quickly. Without already deciding after ten minutes when I need to turn around.
Not every path needs a destination. Some just need time.
der uNi
The urge to check the time is surprisingly stubborn
Of course I still want to look at the clock.
Or at the phone. Perhaps simply because it is already in my pocket. Read one message, check the time for a second – and suddenly I am back inside everything I wanted to leave behind for a while.
I do not want to turn this into a rule. Nobody has to bury their smartphone in the woods to have a good walk.
But it is interesting what happens when I simply leave it alone.
After a while, the path loses that constant feeling of “I still have to”.
Small things suddenly appear
Not spectacular things.
A front door I have passed many times. An old tree. Light on a window. A bench with someone actually sitting on it instead of hurrying past. The smell of damp leaves. A familiar street that looks different because, for once, I am not walking towards the next appointment.
All of it was probably there before.
Almost certainly.
My head was simply somewhere else.
The world does not suddenly become more interesting when we walk without time pressure. We just have a little more opportunity to notice it.
A walk does not have to achieve anything
That may be the most important part for me.
I do not have to return from a walk with a brilliant idea.
I do not have to solve a problem or make a decision. I do not even need to take a photo, and nobody has to know where I have been.
Sometimes I was simply outside.
Nothing more.
And surprisingly, that often feels pretty good.
And yet something may still happen
Sometimes it does.
One thought becomes quieter. Another becomes clearer. An idea appears because I was not trying to find one.
Perhaps that is one reason why I do not want “uNi unterwegs” to mean only big journeys.
Being on the move can be a walk through your own town. An afternoon somewhere green. A street you normally never take. Or simply a route where you have not already decided how long it is allowed to take.
It matters less how far we get.
What matters more is whether we still notice where we actually are.
When was the last time you simply went for a walk without constantly checking the time?
Marco, der uNi
