The Park Where I Learned to Slow Down

Wissahickon Valley Park isn’t the kind of place you brag about visiting. It’s just a tangle of trails, a creek that smells like moss, and a few too many joggers. I went there because I thought I needed fresh air. What I actually needed was to stop pretending I was okay. I sat on a rock, phone dead, watching a dog chase shadows. I realized I’d spent so much time running from city to city, I’d forgotten how to just sit still. No grand view, no bucket-list thrill—just the quiet ache of being alone with my own thoughts. Sometimes, the hardest part of travel is admitting you’re tired of moving. #TravelConfession #UrbanSolitude #SlowTravel #Travel