Which activities make you lose track of time?
Some things just pull me into a rhythm so deep that I don’t notice the hours passing. I’ll forget to eat. I’ll forget to check my phone. When I finally look up, and it’s dark outside or way later than I thought it was. That timeless focus doesn’t happen with most things, but it happens to me in very specific moments.
Hiking is one of the first thing I found. There’s something about being on a trail where I don’t know exactly where it ends or what I’ll find. When the sounds of the world disappear, I only hear the crunch of my steps. I also hear the rush of water, wind, or leaves. Then I settle into my body in a way that makes everything else fade out. Whether it’s a steep climb or a gentle creek side path, I lose track of time. I become one with the woods.
Rock hounding is something I love. I will spend hours hunched over riverbanks, dry creeks, or piles of rock debris. I’m always searching for a glimmer of something hidden. The longer I stay, the more I see, and the more I see, the more I want to keep going. It’s never really about the end result. It’s about the process of looking. Honestly, it really is about the small discoveries. It’s about that quiet rush when I find something beautiful that the earth tucked away for me to notice.
Exploring towns pulls me in. Forgotten roadside stops capture my interest. Waterfalls are equally compelling. Just wandering through places with history or color captivates me in the same way. I like stumbling into things I didn’t plan on. Murals, statues, old buildings, chalk art, or just a view I didn’t expect. When I’m on foot in an unfamiliar place, I usually don’t check the time. I only do so if it’s necessary.
Then there’s the creative side of me that gets lost too. Writing poetry, making zines, laying out pages or trying to pull together themes for a collection. This takes me out of everything. I blink, and four hours have passed. I’ll go back and read something I don’t even remember writing. That space of creating is one of the few places I feel like I can just exist without pressure. It’s just me and the page. Me and the words. And that feels safe.
When I lose track of time, it typically means I’m doing something I actually care about. Something that connects me to myself or the world in a way that feels grounding or real. I don’t think losing track of time is a bad thing. I think it’s one of the few times I’m fully here.
And I need that.
Say it. Don’t spray it.