by Skye
Every day, around the same time, I go to the patio.
No one tells me to.
No one schedules it.
I just know.
The door opens, the light feels different, and my body says, now. So I walk outside and settle in. Sometimes I sit. Sometimes I stretch out. Sometimes I watch absolutely nothing happen for a very long time.
It takes about an hour.
My humans think this is adorable. They say things like, “She just loves her patio time.” They are not wrong, but they are missing the point.
I don’t go outside to do anything.
I go outside to feel better.
Fresh air changes things. It slows my breathing. It quiets my thoughts. It resets whatever has been buzzing in my body from inside noises, screens, or human urgency.
I don’t need a reason beyond that.
Humans, I’ve noticed, are very suspicious of activities that don’t come with goals. If you’re outside for an hour, you feel like you should be exercising, talking on the phone, listening to something important, or at least tracking your steps.
I do none of those things.
I let the air move around me. I let the light shift. I notice smells that weren’t there yesterday. I listen to birds argue about nothing. I feel my body settle into itself instead of bracing for the next thing.
After a while, everything works better.
My digestion works better.
My mood works better.
My nap later works much better.
This is not a coincidence.
Fresh air isn’t a luxury. It’s information. It tells your nervous system that you’re safe enough to relax. It reminds your body that it belongs to the world, not just to rooms and schedules.
Dogs know this. That’s why we insist on going outside even when you think we don’t need to. We’re not bored. We’re regulating.
I’ve watched my humans struggle with things that I solve by stepping outside for a while. They get tired, wired, cranky, unfocused. They look at screens longer. They talk faster. They forget to breathe all the way down.
Sometimes I catch them watching me from inside while I’m on the patio, stretched out and completely unbothered. They say things like, “She’s got it figured out.”
I do. And so do they. They just forget.
Fresh air doesn’t require special clothing. It doesn’t require a gym membership or a plan. It doesn’t care how old you are or how motivated you feel.
You just have to show up.
Sit. Stand. Lean on a railing. Put your feet on the ground. Let the air touch your face without rushing it away. Let your body remember that it knows how to calm itself when you give it the chance.
An hour might sound like a lot. Humans like to negotiate that part. “I’ll just go out for five minutes.” That’s fine. Five minutes is better than zero.
But I’ve noticed something important.
The real magic happens after you stop checking the time.
That’s when your shoulders drop. That’s when your breathing changes. That’s when your body stops asking questions and starts answering them.
By the time my hour is up, I’m not trying to fix anything. I’m just… ready. Ready to nap. Ready to eat. Ready to be inside again without carrying the outside world’s tension with me.
So if things feel off today, you don’t need a reset. You don’t need a new routine or a big plan.
You might just need a patio.
I’ll be out there if you need a reminder.
— Skye 🐾