Concrete, Trees, and Temporary Peace...

Today was a holiday in my city. Which meant no schools, no offices open, and in return, a quieter and calmer atmosphere everywhere. The perfect excuse to walk around and simply exist outside the noise of routine. Even though temperatures can easily hit 40°C around midday, spring always brings something special with it. Flowers blooming everywhere, that fresh earthy smell from the trees and gardens, and a kind of sunlight that feels softer and more hopeful than during any other season of the year. There’s something about this time of year that makes the world feel less hostile, even if only for a couple of hours.

Most of my days are painfully ordinary. Gray, repetitive, overcrowded with responsibilities and the kind of routines that slowly drain color out of everything. From the moment I wake up until I collapse back into bed at night, it often feels like I’m moving mechanically through the same script over and over again. That’s why free days have started meaning more to me lately. Not only because I can sleep a little longer or avoid the cold indifference of the concrete jungle outside, but because solitude itself has become strangely comforting. There’s an underrated beauty in being alone that most people are too afraid to admit they actually enjoy.

And honestly, that fear is understandable. The moment someone says words like lonely, solitude, or alone, people immediately assume something is wrong. Like loneliness must automatically equal sadness, failure, or emotional emptiness. We’ve romanticized constant company so much that we forgot peace can exist in silence too. But this isn’t some philosophical lecture pretending to have all the answers. It’s simply the story of my Wednesday, from morning into the afternoon. Hours spent walking aimlessly while my thoughts slowly untangled themselves. A kind of inner calm I genuinely hadn’t felt in years. I like wandering without a destination and letting all my anxieties rise to the surface until they eventually disappear on their own.

Remember Nike’s old slogan, “Just Do It”? I have absolutely no proof of this, but I’m convinced a woman came up with it. Probably a mother too. Someone who understood what it feels like carrying responsibilities nonstop while still trying to survive emotionally. Because sometimes life really does return to its simplest form. Where the walk itself becomes the reward, not the destination. And I think that’s why I’m finally starting to understand people who love running or hiking so obsessively. It feels good in a way that’s hard to explain without sounding dramatic. Your body moves, your mind quiets down, and suddenly the world stops feeling so unbearably loud.

A local park in some random city probably sounds insignificant to most people. But I think the important part isn’t the place itself. It’s how disconnected we’ve become from our own minds and emotions. We spend years trapped inside exhausting routines, sacrificing everything in pursuit of some “better life” that often leaves us empty anyway. And in the end, regret usually arrives before fulfillment does. I’m not saying effort and ambition are meaningless, of course not. But constantly living in survival mode without understanding what actually matters to you feels deeply sad to me. Meanwhile, a simple walk through a quiet park can make me feel inspired, peaceful, and emotionally alive again. Happy in my solitude, but never truly alone.