There’s a line in a song I wrote recently that stayed with me longer than the music:
“I know it’s my own doing… bein’ where I be… but that don’t make it easier… livin’ inside of me.”
I didn’t write that line as advice. It wasn’t meant to fix anything. It just showed up one day, the way honest things tend to do. And the more I sat with it, the more I realized how much of life can feel like that – being aware of where we are, how we got there, and still not finding any relief in that understanding.
There’s a quiet weight that comes from living inside your own thoughts too long. Not always loud or dramatic. Sometimes it’s just a steady presence – going over the same ground, revisiting the same moments, asking questions that don’t seem to lead anywhere new.
And every now and then, it raises a simple possibility.
What would it feel like to step outside of that, even briefly?
Not in a dramatic, life-changing way. Not by fixing anything. Just… stepping away for a while.
Maybe it’s getting in the car and driving somewhere with no particular destination. Maybe it’s sitting in a place you don’t usually go. Maybe it’s doing something small and unfamiliar, something that doesn’t carry the usual weight of expectation.
I’ve felt it in small moments like that. Even something as simple as going to a movie in the middle of the day. There’s something about it that feels a little off at first – like you’re stepping outside the normal rhythm of things.
And then the movie ends, and you walk back out into the daylight… and for a second, it doesn’t quite line up. The world is still moving along like it always does, but you’ve been somewhere else for a while.
It’s a strange feeling. Not bad. Just different.
Like you stepped outside of yourself… and then quietly stepped back in.
There’s something quietly powerful in that. Not because it changes who you are, but because it reminds you that you’re not limited to one way of being in the world. Even if it’s only for a short time.
And maybe the most surprising part isn’t the change itself – it’s the moment afterward. That small recognition that you did something different. That you gave yourself a break from the familiar rhythm of your own thinking.
There’s a kind of dignity in that. Not pride in the usual sense, but a quieter acknowledgment:
I stepped outside of it for a while.
No judgment. No fixing. Just a shift.
And then something else occurred to me – something I’ve noticed over the years, especially when I’m writing.
Sometimes a line will come to me that feels like it didn’t come from effort at all. It just arrives. And every now and then, I’ll stop and read it back and think, Where did that come from?
That line I shared above – “I know it’s my own doing… bein’ where I be… but that don’t make it easier… livin’ inside of me” – was one of those moments.
It made me pause.
Not to fix anything. Not to judge anything. Just to take a quiet inventory.
Because it didn’t feel like I was saying something about myself. It felt more like something in me was speaking to me.
And what it was saying wasn’t harsh. It wasn’t critical.
It was almost the opposite.
It was a kind of quiet reminder.
Be a little easier on yourself.
Writing has a way of doing that. So does any honest form of expression. It has a way of showing us not just what we’ve done, but how we’ve been treating ourselves along the way.
And sometimes, what it reveals isn’t that we’ve made mistake – that part we usually already know.
It’s how hard we’ve been on ourselves for making them.
There’s a difference between recognizing where we are… and punishing ourselves for it.
And maybe, every now and then, what we really need isn’t correction.
Maybe it’s just a small shift.
A softer voice.
A moment where we step outside of that constant inner conversation… and give ourselves a little room to breathe.
Not forever.
Just for a while.
Because the truth is, we all carry things. We all have places inside ourselves that feel heavier than we’d like. Knowing that doesn’t make it disappear. It doesn’t make it easier.
But it does make it human.
And maybe, every now and then, it’s enough to take a day off from living inside all of it… and just be somewhere else, even for a little while.
If you’re curious about my song, please listen here:
What thoughts constantly occupy your mind? Have you tried stepping out of yourself for a little bit? What does that feel like? Does it bring clarity or something else?
Tags Finding Happiness
Loved your story and your music, thank you for sharing.
Very true-the hardest thing is realizing that the voice inside of us is not always right or helpful. Mine seems to push me to do too much too fast and not allow time to relax. I finally started realizing I can question myself and say” who is telling me I need to do all these things”. Allowing ourselves the freedom to step away from our usual routine and see something new is a great way to achieve this!
“but that don’t make it easier….livin’ inside of me”. That resonates. How do we get away from our own thoughts? I’m a deep thinker and am haunted by my own thoughts, often. It’s easy to reach for alcohol or food to try to silence it, even if for only a short time, but I always regret doing that. I paint, take walks with my dog, and sometimes do something for no reason. It helps. But I wish there was a magic wand to just shut it all up for a while. Thanks for this article. It actually made total sense to me.
Cruise ships are enormous polluters. They hardly fit into the mindset of ‘do not harm.’ The cruise industry along with many governments aid and abet them; that is, they allow them to continue spewing toxic chemicals into the air, many with PM2.5 and above. Some use so-called ‘green’ scrubber washes which mix with stuff from the kitchen, toilet and the rest of the sewage. This is dumped into the ocean. Europe tends to be way ahead of the rest of the world. Seattle, Bar Harbor, Maine have banned cruise ships because of this and because they are destroying marine environments. These thoughts occupy my mind and they should occupy everyone’s. If you aren’t engaged in democracy and planet earth, you aren’t being a good steward.
Meditating, walking in the woods and writing calm me.
I appreciate you sharing that — those are important concerns, and I understand why they weigh on your mind.
For me, the piece I wrote came from a different place — the need, at times, to step away from everything that’s pulling at us, even the important things, just to get quiet again and reconnect with ourselves.
It sounds like you’ve found that in your own way through walking, writing, and time alone — and that’s really what I was trying to get at. We all need something that brings us back to center.