the pitfalls of podcasts

how constant noise can drown your inner voice

The Scream (Edvard Munch, 1893)

In January 2023, I was binging podcasts like a pre-teen who’d just discovered Grey’s Anatomy.

I’d just finished listening to every single David Perell interview on Spotify and was eager to dig into the Founders Podcast with its tantalizing 300-episode backlog. 

One afternoon, I left my house for a brisk walk. I took two steps down the sidewalk, padded my pockets, then panicked. I didn’t have my AirPods. I stopped mid-stride, pivoted like an NFL wide receiver and raced back inside to grab them. 

Like a splash of water on a smooth countertop, podcasts had crept outwards to fill the corners of my day. Anytime I couldn’t read, I’d put in my AirPods and listen. Eating lunch, walking outside, washing dishes, grocery shopping, even falling sleep. 

I thought I was learning, getting exposure to new ideas, being productive. 

But my mind began to resemble a hoarder’s living room: overcrowded, confused, and cluttered. Pulled in a million directions, by each guest on each podcast. 

I had accumulated all these ideas but hadn’t processed or integrated any of them. Advice and action items and journaling exercises; books to read and habits to start and beliefs to adopt. It all ricocheted around my brain like stray bullets. 

My addiction to learning had descended into an addiction to distraction.

My Problem with Podcasts

There is an epidemic of people who listen to podcasts instead of their own thoughts.

I don’t believe you should ignore podcasts. The ability to hear conversations between some of the most interesting people on the planet is mind-blowing. I do believe one thing strongly though: constantly filling every quiet moment of your day with noise severs your connection with yourself.

It’s impossible to hear your inner voice, witness your own thoughts float to the top of your awareness, without existing in quiet. At least sometimes. 

Julia Cameron: "By limiting the inflow of other people's words and ideas, it is possible to focus more clearly on your own… You are able to hear yourself think. What the self has to say is often very interesting." 

With my endless consumption of other people's ideas, podcasts had conditioned me to think the answers I was seeking were outside myself.

Without an inner compass, I was lost.

Clarity in Stillness

Silence is delicious because it gives you clarity in a noisy world. 

Every day at 3pm, I go for a walk on the winding lakeshore path near my house. 

No podcasts, no AirPods, no noise. Just the world in full resolution. 

The rhythmic cadence of my steps put my mind at ease. My breath slows. The sun warms my skin. The tense muscles in my neck relax. 

I feel the pressure of each footstep on the solid ground, the grip of my tread, the weight of my body. 

Undistracted and alone, my mind can breathe. 

I’m thrust into the aliveness of the sensory world. Overwhelmed by its simple beauty. I notice the cracks in that spiderweb through the pavement, the cacophony of whistles and shrieks from birds above, the vibrant greenness of Spring as the earth glows with new life.

Time feels like honey, slow and sweet.

I walk onto the beach and watch the waves lap onto the shore. Admire the ripples of the water in all their infinite detail as they glint and dance in the mid-afternoon sunlight. Watch the clouds move in slow motion across the sky. 

On these walks, I can hear myself think. I can move from the shallows of ideas and advice into the depths of intuition and emotion. I can reach beneath what I’m supposed to do and grasp what I actually want. Discern the signal, my signal, from all the noise.

I’m learning about myself. I’m learning I don’t do well with a lot of noise. I’m learning I love the quiet stillness found in isolation. 

I don’t have it all figured out. Life still feels confusing and overwhelming and scary at times.

But I’m trying to prioritize clarity over consumption.

Yesterday, as I looked out over the horizon, the blue of the lake stretching into the distance, time felt suspended in a quiet, intimate moment. 

I took a deep breath.

And I felt an overwhelming conviction that everything would be okay.

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If you enjoyed this essay, you might also enjoy my essay on reading slowly.

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Thanks for being here, and try to prioritize clarity today :)