As you’re reading this, I’m out on what I call my “yearly walk.” For me, that means I’m somewhere in the mountains or on a beach, pushing myself on a long, strenuous hike. I’m in unfamiliar territory, soaking in new sights, and leaning into a different rhythm.

In our busy lives, where the to-do list seems endless and the pace rarely lets up, it’s easy to feel like we’re constantly reacting. We carry the weight of each day’s events, and that burden can diminish our capacity to lead, leaving us feeling stirred up and reactive.

I’ve discovered a powerful path to grounding and direction, both in my own life and in the lives of the leaders I coach: taking a walk, alone, without a cell phone. Just me and nature.

While a walk might be my go-to, the core idea is about creating a regular rhythm of reflection. It’s about getting some healthy distance from the daily grind and continually shaping who you’re becoming.

The Daily Walk: Settling the Swirl

Every day, I try to take a walk in my neighborhood. It’s usually the same route, about 30 to 40 minutes, and sometimes my dog joins me. This familiar rhythm helps me feel grounded and connected to a specific moment in time. It’s incredible how I notice the subtle changes from one day to the next – how a flower goes from a bud to full bloom, then wilts, and finally goes to seed.

This daily practice is where I process what has happened, review what I’m learning, and reflect on how I’m growing. It’s a space to replay conversations or events that I suspect could have gone better. My goal on this walk is to settle current events, to return to my baseline. Without this daily touchstone, I find that each day’s events tend to spill over into the next, building up until I feel stirred up and reactive. When that happens, my capacity to lead diminishes.

The Monthly Walk: Noticing the Trends

Once a month, I take a longer walk, often around a lake. This journey gives me more space from the day-to-day and makes room for new ideas. It’s a way for me to track the progression of the seasons, from summer to fall, winter, and then spring.

This walk takes more time, often several hours, and it really slows me down. My intention here isn’t to force some grand insight, but to let my mind rest. It starts off buzzing, much like my daily walk, but given enough time, that buzzing begins to quiet, and I can reach a more profound sense of stillness. I often come home from these walks with a sense of peace and calm, more sensitive to my deep inner knowing, what I believe is the voice of God, might be saying to me.

My goal on this walk is to notice the bigger trends. Where are events repeating themselves? What thoughts or invitations have I heard several times over the month? Without this monthly pause, I might miss these larger trends and suddenly find myself unprepared when the world feels different.

The Yearly Walk: Steering the Ship

Then, there’s the annual walk. When I’m on vacation, whether it’s in the mountains or on the beach, I take a walk that might last all day. This one is usually strenuous; I’m pushing myself, often sweating, and I’m in unfamiliar territory. The newness of the surroundings really triggers my curiosity and observation.

On this walk, I find myself reflecting on what I need to let go of, what no longer serves me. This is where the seeds are often planted for the “new me,” significant changes in my career direction, how I’m using my time, or even how my relationship with my kids is evolving as they grow older. Without this deeper, yearly reflection, I risk being blown by the winds of change, rather than truly steering the ship of my life.

We all have a deep inner knowing. When we’re out of alignment with that knowing, it can grate on our soul, wearing us down. Creating these regular rhythms of reflection helps us get out of our everyday context, giving us the space to listen to that inner wisdom.

What habits do you engage in that encourage this kind of reflection? How might you vary those habits by the season of the year, or even the season of life you find yourself in?