Casting Away the Noise: Why I Unplug to Reconnect

How do you know when it’s time to unplug? What do you do to make it happen?

There’s a quiet signal that tells me it’s time to step away. It’s not always loud or dramatic—it might be a slow build of stress, creeping doubt, or that stretched-thin feeling that makes even simple things feel heavy.

“When stress shows up uninvited and focus begins to drift, I know it’s time to unplug and reset.”

Sometimes it’s my mind racing in circles. Other times, it’s just a subtle weight on my chest or that uneasy feeling that I’m no longer fully present. That’s when I listen.

What Do I Do to Make It Happen?

I stop—literally—and breathe. I’ll take several long, intentional breaths, letting the tension fall away with each exhale. Whether I’m standing by the shoreline or stepping out into a pine-lined trail, I breathe in the fresh air and let it remind me of what stillness feels like.

“Before anything else, I pause and breathe deeply—filling my lungs with clean air and my mind with calm.”

Then, I turn to what grounds me most: fishing and photography.

A fly rod in hand or a paddle in the water, I drift back into the rhythm of nature. The act of casting into a quiet bay or stalking redfish along a grass flat becomes more than a hobby—it’s a kind of meditation. It realigns my thoughts.

“Fly fishing isn’t just about the fish—it’s about focus, patience, and reconnecting to something deeper.”

Other days, it’s photography that helps me reset. I’ll grab my Canon and hit the trail, chasing light and framing moments that the busy world tends to overlook. It’s a slower pace, a deeper look. Whether I’m capturing a coastal bird mid-flight or the still reflection of a riverbend, I’m reminded that beauty exists in the quiet details.

“Photography makes me slow down, breathe deeper, and see clearer—it’s the still frame that restores the bigger picture.”

In those moments—standing in saltwater up to my knees or hiking a mountain ridge with my camera slung over my shoulder—I’m fully present. The noise fades. The pressure lifts. I remember who I am when the world isn’t shouting.

“Unplugging isn’t running away—it’s returning to yourself.”

That’s how I reset. That’s how I breathe again.