I Go Out Because… I Know I Need To.
It’s 2024. I live in a quiet village, in a house that keeps us warm, with a wonderful wife who will definitely read this. We have heat, food, and all the comforts of modern society that anyone could ask for. On any given weekend, I can start the day with a hot coffee and a five-star McDonald’s breakfast before getting lost in pre-game football coverage.
There’s a version of me that would love to live like that—comfortably, and predictably. But I know myself better than to think that’s how I should spend the day.
So, I go out. Because deep down, I know I need to.
I Go Out Because… It’s Worth It.
I’d be lying if I said I always want to go. Some mornings, a warm bed is tough to leave behind.
What if this is just a waste of a weekend day?
What if nothing happens?
It’s easy to talk yourself out of the day that might be by convincing yourself there are better ways to spend your time. But even on the days when the woods are silent, the trout don’t bite, or the deer don’t show, I never regret going.
There’s always something. Maybe it’s the way the light filters through the trees or the calm that comes from watching a sunrise from start to finish. Something always happens. Maybe not what I expected, but something nonetheless.
Even in uncertainty, there is value in just being there to serve as your own witness.
I Go Out Because… It Has A Purpose.
When I go deer hunting, it’s to work through my thoughts—the things I can’t seem to sort out in front of a screen.
Duck hunting is for being with friends, cracking jokes in a blind, and remembering that life isn’t meant to be lived alone.
I go fly fishing to kill time and kill beers, and I don’t mind if the trout aren’t even there.
Turkey hunting is punishment for all of my wrongdoings, plain and simple. Crawling through the woods on hands and knees, chasing birds I’m not convinced even exist. To be honest, I don’t know why I do it, but I keep coming back—because sometimes you need a challenge that makes no sense at all.
Each pursuit has it’s own purpose. Some days I need solitude, other days I need company, and sometimes I just need to lose a few hours in the wild.
The Honest Truth
Don’t get me wrong. By no means do the outdoors promise enlightenment.
There are still plenty of days I sit out there for hours, with those same questions I had laying in bed before I left.
The days where cold creeps in to your toes, you miss an easy shot, and the weight of opportunity cost comes crushing down on your psyche.
On those days there are no grand revelations, and no magical moments of clarity. The sun will still set just as it does on the days you spent inside.
But like coming home empty-handed, there’s nothing wrong coming home with an empty-mind. Not every hunt has to change you, nor should it.
Some days, I don’t find answers. I just find a few hours without emails, tasks, or the pressure to have ‘it’ all figured out.
I Go Out Because… It Provides Perspective.
The outdoor world is often slow, deliberate, and quiet—a sharp contrast to my day job as a corporate brand strategist, where every minute is measured, and everything needs to be done yesterday.
The outdoors teach you that patience isn’t a virtue—it’s the only option. There’s no rushing a deer into range or hurrying a duck out of the sky. The waiting teaches you how to sit with discomfort, how to stay flexible when things go sideways, and how to keep going when success isn’t guaranteed.
The corporate marketing grind can warp your sense of value and accomplishment when you spend your days chasing metrics, running reports, and pitching strategies that are already buried under tomorrow’s to-do list before you even finish.
Without perspective, you start mistaking busyness for progress, and you might be tempted to measure your worth by how fast you respond to emails.
But when you’ve spent a night sleeping in a public land marsh, cold and exhausted, just to hold onto a spot, or tracked a blood trail at 1AM by the light of a headlamp to find a deer before the coyotes do, it changes how you see everything else.
Giving a presentation or running a report might feel important when those are your only challenges during the week. But compared to sitting in a tree stand for hours, hoping the wind doesn’t shift, or coming up with a new decoy spread when the first three failed, those tasks at work suddenly seem a lot easier.
Out there, you can’t fake it. You can’t delegate the tough parts to someone else. You have to be fully present, ready to adapt when things go wrong. And more often than not, they will go wrong.
The patience, the flexibility, and the ability to keep going when things don’t work out—those are the things that help me stay grounded when everything else feels like a sprint to the cliff’s edge.
I Go Out Because… It’s Good For Me.
I go out because it’s good for my health and more importantly, my mind.
It reminds me that I’m not the center of everything. The world is bigger than my inbox, bigger than my deadlines, and certainly bigger than my own expectations for my future.
The deer will still run whether or not you’re in the stand. The ducks will still fly and the trout will still jump. The turkeys probably won’t show up either way, but that’s a problem for a different day.
Out there, the notifications are gone, and what’s left are the things that actually matter.
So, if you find yourself stuck, overwhelmed by distractions, or chasing things that don’t seem to fit—maybe you need to go out too. Not because it’s easy. But because, like me, you might just need it more than you think.
From My Desk:
What I’m Thinking About: We’re in the middle of remodeling our living room for winter. Adding some wainscoting, some paint and some new fixtures. Fun times until it’s not so fun anymore. This one of those things that I can’t escape (even though it was half my idea) no matter how many hours I spend in the deer woods.
What I’m Reading: Two books on the shelf this week:
Alignment 2.0: Strategic Research & Marketing Insights for the Thriving Orthopaedist by Bill Champion. This one is a fun one for work gifted to me by my dad, a ‘thriving orthopaedist’ in his own right.
More on my pace is THE BELIEVER: A Year In The Fly Fishing Life by David Coggins. A fantastic sequel to THE OPTIMIST.
On Deck for Monday: More of the same. Strategy shareouts, brainstorm sessions, Meetings, Meetings, ‘Meeting Regroups’, and more Meetings. Thankful for football and hunting to keep me sane. Best of luck to all of the other corporate warriors out there closing out the year.
From The Field Review Archives:
The Field Review is a space for exploring the intersection of work, life, and the great outdoors. It’s about figuring ‘it’ out—whatever your ‘it’ might be.
Every Sunday at 10AM EST, I share ideas, insights, and conversations that help break through the noise, offering a real look at how we can all keep moving forward.
If you have any thoughts, questions, or topics you'd like me to explore in future newsletters, feel free to reach out!
Venture Onward,
Jack
I love the perspective that nature continues on whether we are there or not, trout eating, deer running, etc. I'd say that confirms the notion that even if no one is there to hear it, trees certainly make a sound when they fall haha.
Hey Jack, really enjoyed this post. I know some people might be turned off by the hunting vibe, but I think the larger issue here is about the value of hobbies or side passions. Finding something that you are passionate about that's disconnected from the activities you engage in as part of the survival process. I think we all need that time to ourselves, spent in activities where we lose and find ourselves. Being in the outdoors is that place for you, and you're lucky to have found it. Appreciate you sharing more of your story.