Hello dear 
This morning, I went for a walk that felt different from my usual days. I did it on purpose for the Wednesday Walk community, and I wanted to share it in a calm and honest way. It was not a walk for fitness goals, not a walk to count steps, and not a walk to “be productive.” It was simply a walk to feel better. My mind was a little messy when I woke up. I had many thoughts at the same time, and I needed space. I needed quiet. I needed air. So I chose to go outside and let my thoughts slow down by themselves.
The weather was very cold and very foggy. It was one of those mornings where the sky looks gray and soft, like a light blanket over the city. The cold was sharp. The fog made everything look far away, even the buildings that are normally easy to see. At first, I wondered if I should stay at home. But then I thought: “This is exactly the kind of morning that can clear my head.” Sometimes, the best time to walk is not the sunny time. Sometimes, it is the time when the air feels heavy, because your mind feels heavy too. And when you walk, both things start to change.
I went to Sular Vadisi, a very large walking area in Başakşehir. People in this district know it well. In summer, it becomes busy and full of life. Many people come for events, sports, and meeting friends. There are cafés, open areas, and long paths where you can walk for a long time without getting bored. It is not a small park. It is a big space that lets you breathe.
Because it was a weekday morning, it was not crowded at all. There were very few people. I saw only a small number of adults walking quietly. There were no children in the park. That surprised me a little, because in many parks you always hear children, even early in the day. But today, it was different. It was silent. The silence made the place feel wider. When there are fewer people, you notice more details: the shape of the trees, the sound of your own steps, the way the grass looks in winter, and the way fog changes the distance.
I started walking slowly. I did not rush. I wanted my body to move, but I also wanted my mind to move gently, not fast. I followed the long walking track. The red path looked strong against the green and brown colors around it. The trees were mostly without leaves. Their branches looked thin and honest, like they were not trying to hide anything. The fog made the far end of the path disappear, so it felt like the road was going into a quiet unknown place. That feeling was strange, but also comforting. It reminded me that we do not need to see everything clearly to take the next step. We only need to see enough.
As I walked, my thoughts began to slow down. At the beginning, my mind was loud. It was full of questions and small worries. But the longer I walked, the more those thoughts lost their power. They were still there, but they were softer. It is hard to explain, but walking does something simple and real: it gives your mind a rhythm. Step after step, your breathing finds a pace. And when your breathing finds a pace, your thoughts also become less sharp. You stop fighting your mind, and you start listening to it.
A Walk for My Mind, Not for Numbers
I want to say this clearly: I did this walk mainly for my psychology. I did it because I needed relief. I needed to feel fresh again. Sometimes we say “I am fine,” but inside we feel heavy. Sometimes we smile, but our mind is tired. For me, walking is one of the best ways to return to myself. Not in a dramatic way, not in a magical way, but in a quiet and practical way.
The best part was that the park gave me space. There were no loud voices, no busy groups, no fast energy. Everything was calm. Even the cars outside the park felt far away because of the fog. I could focus on my own steps. I could look at the path and just keep going. I walked the whole track from beginning to end, then I turned back and did it again. I finished it as a full “go and return.” It was long, but it did not feel difficult. It felt natural.
During the walk, I noticed how the cold made me more awake. The air touched my face and reminded me that I am here, in this moment. Sometimes our minds live in the past or in the future. We think about yesterday, or we worry about tomorrow. Cold weather brings you back to “now.” It forces you to be present. In the fog, you also cannot plan too much, because you cannot see far. You only see the next part of the path. That is enough.
I also enjoyed seeing the cafés from a distance. In summer, those cafés are full. People sit outside, talk, laugh, eat, and drink. Today, they looked quiet and closed or half-open. The chairs were not full. The place was resting. And maybe I was also resting, in a different way. I liked this winter version of Sular Vadisi. It felt more personal, like it belonged to the morning.
After around two hours, I felt the change in my mind. It was not like all problems disappeared. Life does not work like that. But my head felt lighter. My thoughts felt more organized. I felt like I could breathe better, and not only because of the fresh air. I felt calmer inside. I also felt proud of myself, not in a big way, but in a simple way. I gave myself what I needed today. I did not ignore my feelings. I listened to them and took action in a kind way. After walking I decided to sit a coffee and eat a cake and drink my hot water and read my book :)
When I finished the walk, I realized something important: sometimes self-care is not a big plan. Sometimes it is just a long walk on a cold morning. Sometimes it is choosing a quiet path instead of staying in a noisy mind. That is all.
And yes, after the walk, I wanted something warm. The cold made me want a hot drink. There is something beautiful about warmth after fog. It feels like a reward, but also like comfort. The walk cleared my mind, and the warm feeling helped my body relax too. I went home feeling better, lighter, and more peaceful.
This Wednesday Walk was not about showing a perfect view or a perfect moment. It was about a real morning. A cold, foggy morning that helped me breathe again. And honestly, I am very grateful for it.
