It's been a week since I returned from walking the Camino de Santiago along the Portuguese coastal route, and I've already found myself back in the fast-paced rhythm of everyday life.
One of the things I appreciated most while walking was the slower, more deliberate pace at which life seemed to unfold.
Covering 25-30 km a day has a way of stretching time; a single week can feel like an entire month. Each day is filled with new experiences, and the constantly changing scenery invites you to slow down, observe, and take in more deeply, further decelerating the perception of time.
The more time I spend living at this slower pace, the more I question why we are content to rush through life when we return home. What do we gain by moving so quickly, and what are we missing out on?
Life back here feels like it's moving at 200 miles per hour. We're always chasing the next thing, rarely stopping to fully observe and appreciate what's already around us.
How different would our lives be if we consciously worked on slowing down, finding a pace that allows us to fully live, rather than just exist?
Each year seems to pass faster than the last, and I don’t want to look back on the next decade feeling as though it slipped away without truly experiencing its beauty.
Having just turned 30, I’ve been asked multiple times, “Does it feel any different?” My answer has consistently been that my vision for the next decade feels vastly different from when I turned 20.
In my 20s, there was an almost urgent excitement. I wanted it all immediately—building a company, making money, traveling the world, and soaking in every experience.
Now, as I look ahead to my 30s, there’s a noticeable shift in that mindset. I no longer feel the need to rush. I’m content to take my time, to be patient and intentional, and to enjoy these years with a clearer understanding of who I am and what I truly want from life.
Maybe this approach comes with maturity, but I believe it’s also driven by a deeper fear—the fear that life will move too quickly, leaving me feeling trapped in a fast-forwarded version of my own existence.
I dislike how my days blur into weeks whenever I’m back in London. The familiar routines of daily life seem to accelerate time, making it harder to fully absorb the present, as I slip into a state of flow and repetition.
I thought I might write down a feel things I learnt from walking the camino again that I realised helped contribute towards me enjoying a slower pace of life.
1 - Presence:
I have a weakness for daydreaming, but it’s one of the easiest ways to let time slip away unnoticed. Ironically, while walking the Camino, I found myself so immersed in conversations with different people that there was far less time for daydreaming than I expected.
Being present is key to slowing down time. When you’re fully aware and conscious of your surroundings, it naturally creates a sense of mindfulness that makes each moment feel richer, inevitably slowing down the perception of time.
2 - Spontaneity:
Each day we’d start our walks on an empty stomach. We’d plan to walk for an hour or two and let our hunger build. We didn’t know exactly where or when we’d stop and we just went with the flow.
Not having to have a strict plan meant that we were responsive to opportunities and always looking out for good opportunities. This spontaneous approach meant that we weren’t fixed to a consistent routine of stopping exactly at a certain time or certain distance covered.
Some days we’d stop after an hour and 4km and others we’d walk over 10km before stopping. Each day was different and each opportunity was equally considered.
Each day, we’d set off on our walks with an empty stomach, allowing our hunger to build as we moved. We never knew exactly when or where we’d stop, simply letting the journey unfold naturally.
Without a strict plan, we stayed open to opportunities, constantly on the lookout for a good place to pause. This spontaneous approach freed us from the rigid structure of stopping at the same time or after a set distance.
Some days, we’d stop after just an hour and 4 km, while on others, we might walk over 10 km before taking a break. Each day was unique, and every opportunity was equally considered.
3 - No Music:
The first time I walked the Camino de Santiago across Spain, I often listened to music, letting my mind drift along with my favourite songs.
This time, I didn’t even bother with music. I wanted to hear the sounds of my surroundings—mostly the ocean.
When you listen to the sounds of everyday life, you become much more present. The unpredictability of what you hear forces you to stay aware, observing and reacting to each moment as it unfolds. This attentiveness to your environment helps you stay grounded and slows down your perception of time.
4 - Screen Time:
One thing we can all agree on is that phones have become far too dominant in our lives. It’s unsettling to rely so heavily on something that has the power to waste so much of our time.
While walking the Camino, I took videos and photos, but I barely used any apps. My screen time dropped dramatically, allowing me to be much more present and fully observe the world around me.
It’s a habit I plan to carry with me back in London.
Now, I find myself yearning for a way to slow things down. I want to truly appreciate and experience the incredible, fleeting opportunity we have with this crazy thing called life.
During the walk, I was reminded of how simple life can be to truly enjoy it. I’m now determined to pursue that simplicity and happiness, with the goal of growing and fully savouring every moment.
Comments