Lots of people have something to say about walking
Andrew McCarthy published a lovely article on the New York Times yesterday called “Whatever the problem, it’s probably solved by walking.” The article races through a horde of quotes about the physical, mental, and social help of going for a walk. My favorite walking quote, because it was framed in Elmer’s Sunnybank Inn and is thus associated with my wonderful memories there, was not quoted by McCarthy but fits the theme. From Thomas Jefferson: “habituate yourself to walk very far… There is no habit you will value as much as walking far.” A few others McCarthy shared: “If you are in a bad mood, go for a walk. If you are still in a bad mood, go for another walk.” – Hippocrates. “Thoughts come clearly when one walks.” – Thomas Mann.
After 36 days of walking, the substance of these quotes feels obvious to me. Of course walking is a conduit to thinking thoughts, to sharing a conversation, to listening, to emotional and mental health. I discovered this firsthand. Not many things can be called a panacea, but walking (or running) may be the nearest I know. It is preventative treatment for physical ailments. It soothes raw emotions, as Hippocrates indicated. It facilitates rich social interactions. The issue is that it is hard to fit a walk into everyday life. No time, we say.
Silence in a world of noise
The benefit of walking I will focus on here is a specific response to this: walking is a redress for the explosion of attention-grabbing stimuli in modern society. Noise creeps into every crevice in a way it truly did not two decades ago. Newsfeeds, autoplay, targeted advertizing, screen proliferation, email, social media, clickbait. Where can escape be found? A walk is rare respite.
Today, I hiked with no one else. I listened to a few podcasts and songs, had nice interactions with several people on the trail, but enjoyed a lot of silence. Walked. It’s not just a lack of noise, but a lack of anything that wants to take my attention. This feels the exact opposite of the society we’ve built – normally, everything demands attention. Thus, for years, even though I love being around people, I make opportunities to get outside and try and find a slice of silence. I hate my attention being taken, bought, sought, sold.
I will raise two questions you potentially ask at this point. One, if I loved today’s silence so much, why was I reading articles about hiking on the New York Times? Two, since so many things demand our attention already, why do I write articles and add to an oversaturated ecosystem of online noise? Convicting questions, but my answer is that noise need not be eliminated but rather regularly escaped for a time. The benefits of connectivity fade when technology robs us of all silence. I only check the New York Times occasionally during the rare times of day that my phone is not on airplane mode. I only like to read one or two articles about topics I want to learn about. Even mainstream news outlets feel more and more like a clickbait social media newsfeed. Google shows a newsfeed when I open Chrome. The internet is noise. On my quiet walk, I sometimes open it to hear the roar. And add to the noise. Then turn it off.
