I used to let anxiety stop me from leaving the house.
In—at the time—the best city I had ever lived in. San Francisco.
What a shame.
Because, for as much as I saw and experienced a lot of San Francisco, I missed out on a lot. It wasn’t agoraphobia that kept me inside. It was anxiety triggered by the toxic culture of work ethic I grew up around and subscribed to until I started slowly shedding it a few years prior to the pandemic.
I rarely left the house to kill an hour or more in a cafe or bar. And, when I did, it was often preceded by an hour of indecisiveness. Cafes were grab and go adventures—the way Starbucks (last time I checked) likes it. Bars were places you visited only when scheduled as part of plans with other people or “to drink.” To my credit, I went to local cafes and bars, but I never fully absorbed their flavor or felt their life.
I hope you don’t let this sort of thing happen to you—(I say that gently while realizing the element of control we all have).
When it happened to me, I thought it was only me. That sense always made it something I have been reluctant to share. However, as I reflect on those days, I realize that more people than care to acknowledge it to themselves or admit it to others have likely experienced what I experienced or something similar.
I could leave the house just fine—if I had a concrete reason. Something official. A plan that fit neatly into the day’s prescribed flow. But giving myself the freedom to leave the house for no reason? That felt uncomfortable. Unjustified. Like it didn't “count.”
So, of course, most people leave the house every day.
To go to work. Drop off kids. Run errands. To conduct business. To satisfy obligations.
But that’s not what I mean when I say leave the house. I mean doing it on purpose, without a purpose. Even if you have to run an errand or do something routine, package it with something that lacks purpose in the traditional sense. Because that’s most likely where your actual purpose—and progress—in life lies.
I leave the house most every single day. With a purpose and no purpose all at the same time. It’s not a goal, hack, or habit. It’s not life coach bullshit.
It’s a rhythm. A baseline. A lifestyle. It says so much about what it means to Never Retire.
I don’t sit around trying to will myself to write. I ride to yoga. I grab a coffee. I walk without headphones. And when I get back, I work. Or not. But I keep moving either way.
This Isn’t All About Exercise
It’s not get your steps in or touch grass.
Every day, I leave the house not because I have to, but because my life is set up so that I can. And doing this keeps me steady and makes the work easier.
This is part of the system. Movement is built into the day, not a break from work. In fact, it has to be there for my work to work.
The Real Win Is What Happens After
I come back to the house recharged. I sit down and get things done. Not because I’m motivated but because my head is clear.
Sometimes I knock out a whole article. Often, I started writing that article—in 5-to-10 minute bursts here and there—while sitting at a cafe or on a bench. There’s something about being out in an inspiring environment that makes ideas flow in a way that simply can’t happen behind a desk—or dining room table.
Bottom line—I’m rarely stuck. Movement knocks things loose in my body and brain. Writer’s block is for rookies and people who waste precious time in chatrooms griping about having nothing to say. Yet, they have ample time to complain about who they’re writing for as they lament staring at a blank screen, unable to figure out what to write.
They have it all wrong. To the point where they wallow in the mire of self-inflicted stagnation.
You Can Build This Anywhere (But Not Everywhere)
In Valencia, the city helps. Density and walkability breed lively environments with places to go, things to do, and people to see (watch). The combination fosters creativity.
It’s easy to do this without a car.
In other places, this is harder—but not impossible. You have to create your version of a movement rhythm. Find your own walkable loops. Do your morning routine somewhere that takes effort to reach. I did this in Los Angeles, where even when we say it’s walkable, it sucks as an urban environment in its fullest expression.
This isn’t about Spain. It’s about structuring your life so that movement is part of the workday, not something you earn after it.
Motion Becomes Mental Flow
This is why I rarely feel blocked. Or if I do, it doesn’t last long. I don’t try to push through. I walk through. Or ride. Or stop and sit somewhere new.
Movement and environment give your brain what a to-do list can’t (though I do like to-do lists). They keep things circulating.
If this clicked for you, the next one's for paid subscribers.
I’ll break down exactly how I track time—without time blocking—so I can work less, make more, and avoid burning out.
Upgrade to get it.
In my next Never Retire newsletter story—How I actually track time.
People always ask—how do you actually know how much you work?
That’s what I’ll share next time:
Not time blocking, but time estimating
How I know what takes 30 minutes vs 2 hours
Why I leave early to go places—and what that adds to my work rhythm
And how I track time loosely to make better use of it
And here’s my latest YouTube video, building Friki de Bici—slowly but surely.
Getting out and about. That matters
Setting yourself up so that you can "hang about" that matters just as much.
Right now I do the former, but not enough of the latter. I am very purpose driven when out and and about.
Reading these newsletters over the last many months, I had realised that, and had marked it as something I will do more of when we semi-retire and have more time.
Reading this post was a revelation; it made me identify what I am not doing yet.