Up here in New England, the sun sets too early for me. A blanket of dark and cold seems to settle over the campus by four-thirty or five. With classes in the morning and until three, it’s difficult to truly enjoy the sunshine—if there is any. On gray, nebulous days, when the sunlight filters through a wreath of clouds in the sky, I sometimes feel like I never truly woke up.
But for every week of bone-cold, dull February days, there also seems to come a lucky day of relief, when the sun shines proud and the temperature soars into the sixties. I live for these breakthrough days. It’s warm enough to take a run outside, instead of on the dreaded treadmill. It’s lovely to see swaths of students rushing onto the Main Green. They lounge and mull over homework and smash a spikeball into the net, reveling in the glimpse of spring.
Of course, even on these warmer days, the long march of course assignments and the constant thrum of academic life don’t dissipate. I’ll carry my frisbee in one hand and my laptop in the other, just in case. Many of us at Brown, especially nervous first-years like me, seem to have an underlying fear of not being productive enough. We camp out in the library, entering when the sun is high and not dragging ourselves back into reality until all-natural light has faded. We worry over our essays and problem sets and midterms and justify to ourselves why we need to spend all day inside studying.
Here’s the thing, though. None of us can study for hours on end without some kind of break. And when we’re locked away inside, this break often becomes taking ten, or thirty, minutes to scroll through Instagram or TikTok, while still sitting in front of our computers open to assignments. We squander our precious moments of recovery on social media, a diversion proven to make users more anxious and insecure. I know I’ve never looked up from my phone after half an hour of scrolling and felt calmer or refreshed. The fear of not being productive often prevents us from allowing ourselves true rest.
I don’t claim to have the end-all solution to the pervasive pressures of academic performance, but I do have an idea. Instead of only catching wisps of sunshine between classes, or walking to the dining hall, maybe try staying outside. Some people enjoy skimming their class readings while settled on a picnic blanket in the grass. But I get restless, and so far during spring semester, my remedy has been going on walks outside.
Let me explain. Usually, we walk to get somewhere—to class, to grab a quick meal, to the library, to a club meeting, to a friend’s dorm. Walking is a mode of transit, an in-between state to be minimized, especially if we walk the same path every day. But beyond the strict class-dorm-dining hall-class-class-dorm route, there are so many more paths to follow. At Brown, for example, we’re situated in beautiful, historical Providence. Just a few streets off campus, you can wander through rows of quaint colonial houses, small shops, and the occasional soaring government edifice.
Going on walks is an opportunity to walk without a destination. Instead of a rushed method of transportation, walking becomes the main attraction. If you can allow yourself to stop worrying about impending deadlines for a moment—a difficult task, I know—then a walk is an opportunity to be present in your physical surroundings, to check in with yourself and the world. It’s also an opportunity to dissociate from troubles at school or otherwise. Strolling down the sidewalk, you’ll catch the sights and sounds of real people, who aren’t college students, traipsing through their lives. It’s a reality check: there is a world beyond college, and actually, it’s right beyond the campus borders.
If you want, it’s nice to listen to music or a podcast while out for a walk in the sunshine. (One podcast I’ve enjoyed recently is Ologies with Alie Ward.) I would also recommend trying a walk sans auditory entertainment. If you’re feeling brave, listen to your thoughts. What do you think about, when you let go of the immediate tasks at hand? I’ve found that walking encourages me to think freely, gathering my thoughts but also allowing them to run loose, unbound by to-do list concerns.
One note: when walking outside by yourself, always be cautious and aware. Start your walk well before the sun sets, preferably at a time when many others are also out and about. Bring your phone and water. Immerse yourself in your surroundings, yes, but make sure that you know the area where you’ve wandered and feel safe there.
Take care, but while that fleeting sunshine’s still around, I recommend giving it a try. Walk not to get somewhere, but to be outside, and be with yourself. Walk to appreciate what your body and mind can do. Walk as a long moment of relief. There’s always more to be done, of course. But that can wait until after you’ve had your sunshine.