This Christmas, when my husband asked what I wanted, I surprised myself with my answer, and him too.

I didn’t want clothes, a spa day, or a weekend away. I wanted one simple thing: to be alone in a quiet, dark room. No talking. No background noise. No phones. No notifications. Just silence… enough of it to let my mind finally switch off.

The only other option I could think of was going to Killarney National Park, standing at the edge of Lough Leane, taking in the stillness and wild beauty, and dipping my toes into the freezing water.

That’s where I was at.

And judging by the conversations I’ve been having lately, I don’t think I’m alone.

The Constant Noise We’re Living In

We live in a world that’s loud in ways we often don’t notice, both physically and mentally.

Messages waiting to be answered. News we never asked for.  Social media showing what everyone else is doing with their lives. The quiet pressure to keep up, respond quickly, stay relevant.

I’m a mother to a four-year-old boy who talks constantly. I adore his curiosity, his stories, his endless questions, but by evening, my brain often feels completely overloaded. There’s no silence left for my own thoughts.

Add daily life, responsibilities, WhatsApp notifications, the low hum of social media, and even ordinary days can feel exhausting.

Sometimes it’s not that life is particularly hard. It’s just too loud.

Overstimulation Isn’t You Failing

For a long time, I thought feeling overwhelmed meant I wasn’t coping properly. That I should be more patient, more grateful, better at managing it all.

But overstimulation isn’t a personal failure, it’s a nervous system response. We weren’t designed to process this much information, this many voices, this constant sense of urgency.

No wonder so many of us feel anxious, restless, or stuck in a Groundhog Day loop. Every day feels the same, yet leaves us drained.

Why Being Outdoors Helps (Without Overthinking It)

This is why spending time outdoors, especially here in the wilds of County Kerry, feels so grounding.

Nature doesn’t demand anything from you. It doesn’t need entertaining. It doesn’t rush you.

When I take a walk in Killarney National Park, something shifts almost immediately. The lake doesn’t need commentary. The mountains don’t care how productive I’ve been. The trees don’t ask me to improve myself.

Even the cold water, shocking at first, pulls you straight back into your body. No spiraling thoughts. Just breath, sensation, and the simple, undeniable reminder that you’re here.

Present. Alive. Enough.

Quiet Isn’t Empty. It’s Necessary

We often mistake quiet for loneliness, but silence can be incredibly full.

Full of clarity. Full of relief. Full of space to return to yourself.

Five minutes of true quiet can do more for my mood than an hour of scrolling ever could. And no, I haven’t mastered this. I still worry. I still reach for my phone when I’m tired. I still feel overstimulated and snappy on a long day. The difference now is that I notice it sooner. Instead of pushing through, I try to breathe, relax, and guide my thoughts toward calm rather than chaos.

A Gentler Way to Live

This isn’t about escaping real life, moving off-grid, or pretending responsibilities don’t exist.

It’s about remembering:

Not everything deserves your attention. Not every moment needs documenting. Not every worry needs carrying all day. Life doesn’t need to be loud to be meaningful.

Sometimes the best thing you can do is lower the volume, step outside, and simply be.

And maybe, if you’re lucky, you can dip your toes into a freezing lake in Co. Kerry, and laugh at yourself for doing it.

A Small Pause (If You Need One)

If you’re feeling overwhelmed or overstimulated, ask yourself:

What noise can I turn down, even slightly? Where can I find a little more quiet today? What can I do to make me feel grounded?

Remember.

You don’t need to change your whole life. You just need to pause.