Need Clarity? Take a Walk.

Flaneuse-ing: The art of wandering and witnessing, refined to perfection by those who dare to traverse cityscapes with an unapologetic curiosity. The flaneuse is a figure who navigates the bustling streets, not as a means to an end but as an end unto herself. Her purpose, if it can be said that she has one, lies in the simple act of presence—to see the extraordinary within the ordinary, to wanderer both physical and metaphysical realms.

My initiation into the church of walking occurred when I was a 17-year-old college freshman. The University of Michigan campus was a revelation, a world apart from what I had seen growing up in Detroit. From the mix of Greek and Neo-Renaissance Revival structures on Central Campus to the quaint charm of downtown Ann Arbor, to the tranquil paths in The Arb, I discovered how the simple heel to toe motion repeated in tandem can shake loose the stubborn thoughts that cling to the corners of our minds.

On those solitary walks, I unearthed the profound connection between mind and feet. They became my path to clarity. For in moments of feeling stuck, there's often a voice within, calling for change, for movement, for evolution. Walking is the answer to that call. With every physical step, you set in motion the mind, the soul and the entirety of one's existence. It becomes a journey of processing, reflection, and giving ourselves space to expand. Scottish poet Thomas Clark makes this connection beautifully in In Praise of Walking:

“A journey implies a destination, so many miles to be consumed, while a walk is its own measure, complete at every point along the way. There are things we will never see, unless we walk to them. Walking is a mobile form of waiting. What I take with me, what I leave behind, are of less importance than what I discover along the way.”

For the better part of the past 25 years, I have made my home in cities that embrace walking as a way of life. And even when I haven't, I've carved out my own paths to walk. Not merely as a commuter or as a commitment to 'hitting 10,000 steps' sort of practice. But as a ceremony of reconnection, a profound meditation. Joan Didion once said that we walk “to give us back to ourselves.” A deliberate pilgrimage, if you will, to a sacred space within myself. Each step is an affirmation: "keep moving, there's more to discover." Walking isn’t just a physical journey; it's a cognitive one, a path of unpacking and sometimes, letting go. I walk to find out what I’m thinking and what it means.

I do a lot of my best writing far away from my computer. It is often during the course of an extended walk that the concepts for this newsletter materialize or the knots in a troublesome chapter of the book untangle themselves. It is not surprising, then, that neuroscience confirms that when we move our bodies, particularly in the act of walking, the brain surges with activity. A 2014 study from Stanford University revealed that a person's creative output increased by an average of 60% when walking, giving credence to the age-old wisdom of many thinkers and artists who championed walking. This wasn’t bound to the wilderness or picturesque parks, either; walking anywhere—whether on a treadmill or meandering an urban sidewalk—yielded the same benefits.

One compelling argument is the relationship between walking and the default mode network (DMN) of the brain. The DMN is a major system of the brain that becomes active when our attention isn't occupied by tasks. It’s associated with daydreaming, self-reflection, and contemplating about our past and our future. Walking supercharges the brain’s capacity to create connections between seemingly unrelated concepts, providing a fertile ground for introspection and new ideas. The very act of propelling oneself forward without much conscious effort ignites a parallel journey in the mind. For centuries, artists, writers, and thinkers have sworn by the power of walking to unlock their creative potential.

Research has also shown that walking on a regular basis also promotes new neural connections and stimulates the growth of new neurons. Other cognitive benefits include increased memory and attention, and reduction in the decline of brain tissue that comes with age. Walking also triggers the release of endorphins, which are natural mood lifters, and reduces symptoms of depression and anxiety.

So, step outside. Wander. Clear your thoughts. Find your muse. Heal your heart. Walk not to escape, but to reclaim a part of yourself. May each step lead you closer to something wonderful.

In stride,

Daria